Chapter 181: Changing Views

Toren Daen

I ran a hand along the midnight-black pelt laid out in front of me, surprised by its softness. It was so dark it seemed to reject any sort of light whatsoever, creating a spot of black within the small bit of firelight I'd conjured.

The Echo Vespertion's pelt–Aurora had put a name on the beast–was utterly contrasted by the snow-white fur of the time-stop yeti directly beside it. Both were won through hard-fought battles, and I felt a strange sort of reverence for these 'trophies.'

I need to make some sort of cloak out of these eventually, I thought. But it needs to be undertaken by a master craftsman. I have no doubt these materials can maintain magical effects better than most.

Aurora looked over my shoulder at the pelts, still occupying her large bronze relic. She tilted her head as she ran an inquisitive look over them both.

I was hoping that whatever effect was negating my sound spells was somehow tied to the fur, though, I thought sourly. That would be a useful ability to have.

Sensing my thoughts, the large metal phoenix behind me whirred slightly, orange-purple mist puffing from each crevice along its form. "The beast that I battled engaged a similar ability. Whenever my plasma sought to burn out its throat, the sound mana was disrupted by its oscillation. But the explanation of this ability is quite simple, as is the method to counter its implementation."

I turned to my bond, absorbing both furs back into my dimension ring. What do you mean? I thought, interested.

"It is an aspect of resonant frequency," Aurora explained. "The monster had a natural ability to detect the frequency of your vibrating spells, then matched that accordingly. Once the two resonances met, they naturally unraveled each other."

Like a singer raising her voice so high that it reached the natural pitch that glass vibrated at, causing the glass to shatter in resonance. This mana beast had managed something similar.

I blinked, surprised I hadn't thought of such an explanation myself. And I'm guessing you countered it by changing the frequency of your own mana? Make it difficult, if not impossible, to maintain resonance?

Aurora's avian head nudged my back comfortingly. "You are quick to understand, Toren. It required a bare bit more effort on my end, but nothing substantial. Once this was realized, the vespertion was simple prey."

I chuckled as I brushed my bond's metal neck, her asuran pride radiating over our bond. "Simple prey, huh?" I said aloud, allowing myself a moment to relax.

It had been a few hours since my battle within the cavern. Not far away, Borzen and Gruhnd sat around a fire, cooking a bit of bat meat on sticks. They'd both helped me strip each monster, retrieving pelts, beast cores, and what other useful reagents they could scavenge from the bodies. Unfortunately, neither I nor Aurora had been exceptionally gentle with our kills. There wasn't as much scavengeable as I would have liked.

I slowly loped back to the fire, quietly noting how Jotilda had been propped against a looming stalagmite. She was sleeping fitfully, a blanket thrown over her aged body. Borzen had done the woman a favor and peeled off her shattered leg armor, but that also meant she was more exposed to the cold.

It was quite chilly this deep in the caves. The sweltering heat I'd associated with the tunnels was only a result of dwarven mining and industry, but naturally? They were freezing.

I sat myself down around the fire, holding a hand out toward Gruhnd. He grunted, handing me over one of the long skewers he'd been roasting.

"Thanks," I said, sitting myself on top of a short rock. I took a testing bite from the meat, my eyes widening in surprise at the savory taste. "Did you put some sort of seasoning on this? It's pretty damn good," I complimented.

Gruhnd's chest puffed out with pride as he said something that sounded close to affirmation. I still couldn't make out what the hell he was saying, even after hearing him talk for a couple of days. I'd long decided to just pretend this was normal, considering the other dwarves did, too.

"I'll admit, Toren," Borzen said, taking a bite of his skewer, "Jotilda told me you said you'd be enough to handle any S-class beasts we ran into. I didn't believe you. Don't think she did, either, but the chances of running into an S-class were low enough that it wasn't worth makin' a fuss about. Lots of adventurers tell tall tales about encounters with S-class beasts and their strength, but it's all empty bluster. Seen it meself a million times." Borzen paused, taking a giant bite from his skewer. "But, well… Ya got two. Pretty damn impressive," he said through a mouthful of meat.

I smirked slightly. "I've fought worse," I said, thinking of the dark undead serpent and Mardeth in particular. "The Relictombs are particularly awful. They always adapt to match your level of strength."

Borzen slowly lowered his skewer, a strange cast to his face. "Hey, ya said earlier that Agrona is keepin' his best fighters back. Those ascenders and whatnot. I just wanted to know… Are they all as strong as you are?"

There was a hesitance in Borzen's words and intent that gave me pause. He truly cared about his fellow dwarves, even the dwarven loyalists that wished to suppress his rebellion.

"I'm among the strongest Alacrya can offer," I said honestly, heaving a sigh. "But I'm still no match for the Scythes. One day, though," I said wistfully.

As Aurora's relic slowly moved over to me, a clank in each step as she sensed my melancholy. Borzen and Gruhnd reared back as the firelight danced across my bond's massive bronze form.

Thinking of the dwarven rebellion conjured a complicated mixture of emotions in my gut. Only a few hours had passed since I'd healed Jotilda Shintstone's wounds, but her words still resounded around in my skull.

I would admit to myself that my perspective of the dwarven rebellion was heavily influenced by that otherworld novel. There, I saw mostly everything from the Dicathian perspective. From the point of view of Arthur and Virion, who internally decried these dwarves as traitors to the continent.

And everything that displayed Darv after that? It didn't give them the best view. But now… now I saw that perhaps my perspective was too rigid.

As if on queue, I heard a stir in Jotilda's heartfire. I turned to look at the shifting dwarf, slowly lowering my skewer as she blinked uncertainly. When she saw the looming figure of Aurora's bronze bulk, she pulled herself backward, a primal sort of fear radiating from her.

Gruhnd and Borzen leapt into action as she cursed, her hand darting to her belt in a vain attempt to reach for an axe that wasn't there. As her fellow dwarves laid hands on her shoulders, however, she looked to the side, seeming to realize they were there for the first time.

"I'm… I'm alive?" she muttered uncertainly, a confused note in her voice. "But I thought… My leg…"

Would you mind leaving the relic for now? I asked my bond. I'm not sure your looming would do this conversation any good.

"Very well, Toren," she said quietly. "I shall be here if you need me."

Of course, I thought back, grasping the tether of heartfire that sprouted from my chest. With a simple tug, I allowed the relic to shift back into a single bronze brooch, folding inward on itself a dozen times in a display of impossible geometry. The dwarves watched, stupefied, as I caught the falling feather, then pinned it to my vest.

"I healed you before you passed the brink," I said, looking Jotilda in the eyes. "You might be sore for a few days, but you'll be good as new soon."

The dwarven elder looked at me warily, then her eyes darted to the skinned corpses of the echo vespertions not far behind us. When her gaze returned, her intent was laced with quiet fear.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. Then I let it out slowly, calming my nerves. I opened my eyes once more, looking at the dwarven elder. "And I apologize for the actions I took that invalidated your autonomy," I said, referencing how I'd stepped in to speak for the dwarves when they'd nearly fought with the Alacryan soldiers. "It wasn't my intention to do so."

I'd been thinking for a while, but I wasn't certain what else I could have done differently in that confrontation. I wasn't sure if that made the situation worse or not: that the only way to avoid conflict in that instance was to place myself in a position that took power away from those I sought to help.

And I had felt the effects of my actions within Jotilda's intent as she believed herself to be dying. The emotions she felt were real and powerful, not something I could outright dismiss.

I tapped my fingers along my leg nervously as Jotilda watched, seeming just as uncertain as I. "And I am sorry for perceiving you as traitors, too. I see that your position is… More complicated than I first thought. Not so black and white."

I didn't think that anything I learned in the future–any discrimination or wrongdoing–that the dwarves had experienced would justify their support of the Alacryan invasion. But I also had to remember that I had a near-omniscient view of the war and its eventual aftermath. How many dwarves, humans, or elves truly understood Agrona's goals? How many of the dwarven rebels truly saw what Alacrya was like; knew what they welcomed onto their shores?

Most of the rebels likely only saw an outer force pushing in and capitalized on the political upheaval to try and enforce their own rule. They didn't see an apathetic, conniving Vritra overlord that sought their total dominion. The dwarves thought they were welcoming the French to their American revolution.

Unfortunately, the troops they brought to their shores were of more… German persuasion in this analogy.

Gruhnd and Borzen stared at me, both seeming unable to form a coherent response. Elder Shintstone, however, spoke up with iron in her voice.

"Your words are nice, Alacryan, but you've yet to show action," she said sternly. "Time will tell if you do more than say pretty words."

I exhaled, allowing her words to glance off my skin. Borzen, however, seemed more amenable to my honest attempts. "Elder Jotilda, I think you should give him more of a chance. I mean… he healed you, didn't he? And he saved us from those S-class mana beasts."

The dwarven elder averted her eyes from me at the reminder of my power. "My old bones have faced too much in their lifetime to trust someone on words alone," she said sourly, a deep cynicism coating every word. "Actions make people, not words."

I put my hands on my knees, then pushed myself to my feet. "Then I'll have to prove my words with my actions," I said, injecting confidence into my voice. I walked over to where Jotilda still lay on the ground, holding out my hand to her. "Sound fair to you?"

The dwarven elder looked at my hand, a crease to her aged brows, before she finally took it, using my strength to haul herself to her feet. She looked down at her leg with raised brows, seeming surprised she could put her weight on it. "I s'ppose we do have to work together," she sighed. "Coulda been that arrogant noble instead."

I smirked slightly. "It could've been. I've had my own tussle with Kiel Patamoor's father, and I can say it's a family trait."

I had plenty of work to do when I got back to the main cavern. If I wanted to be an honest emissary for Seris and facilitate cooperation, I needed to show it with my actions and not just my words.

—

The return trip proceeded at a far faster pace than before. Considering the tunnels had been cleared of the most dangerous mana beasts, I was able to keep a steady torchlight hovering around my shoulders, making it easier for us all to progress. Furthermore, though we all kept our guards up, we didn't have to watch every single step in fear.

Several hours later, we reached the main cavern once more. The change in temperature was surprising, but I was quickly left to my own devices as Jotilda went about organizing tunnel cleaners and for workers to do more thorough lighting and excavation of the unearthed caves. The news that we'd encountered and slain a couple of S-class mana beasts caused a stir amongst the dwarves, and even more when I revealed the spoils from my dimension ring.

I needed to get the pelt I'd taken from the echo vespertion cured, after all.

But it was only after another hour or so that I was finally able to separate myself from the crowds.

I loped toward my squat tower abode within the caverns, the twisting path feeling somewhat lonely as I gradually ascended. Aurora's relic sat primly on my shoulder as I finally stepped into the room I called my own, closing the metal door behind me.

I felt my shoulders slump slightly as a tension that I always carried relaxed slightly. I ran my hands over my face, then through my hair, centering myself with the action.

"So, what will you do now?" Aurora asked, her melodic voice echoing from the relic on my shoulder.

I walked over to a nearby desk, setting myself into the surprisingly ornate chair. "Well, I tried asking if there was a library I could use to research dwarven history and culture, but that didn't work out."

When faced with a problem, my first instinct was to read about the topic first. I'd done so with the Clarwood Forest, the Joans, the Relictombs, and even the Blooded families of Alacrya.

"But to your surprise, the underground base of rebels and intercontinentals does not have a dedicated library," Aurora teased lightly, her steampunk sparrow hopping from my shoulder. She landed on the desk, looking around at the sparsely decorated room, which was closer in proximity to a bunker. "Truly shocking, Toren."

"Hey," I responded, feigning affrontation. "Every city–base, hideout, whatever–should have a library somewhere. You can't get anywhere in life without a dozen good books available. I think I'll have to make a library here first before I get anything done."

A melodic laugh bubbled from Aurora's relic, causing me to smile in turn. "You and bibliophilic ways, Toren. I don't know what I shall do with you."

I snorted. "Nothing at all. I'm clearly right about this. My future knowledge kind of proves it. But to answer your question," I continued, withdrawing a certain notebook from my dimension ring, "I'm going to set a few goals for myself."

I flipped open my notebook, the item held closest to my soul. My ciphered notes on The Beginning After the End stared back. Further along the pages, I'd begun to use them as a sort of journal to try and monitor my thoughts, especially after the events that preluded my First Sculpting.

If I wanted to help this world, I needed to not have a mental breakdown. And to avoid the near-total collapse I experienced in the Relictombs, I needed to tend to my mental health as well.

"First," I said aloud as I scribbled down on the pages, "I'm going to talk more with Borzen, Gruhnd, and Jotilda. They'll be good avenues to learning things like folktales, history, and general cultural perspectives. What do the dwarves think about life? Death? The journey between the two?"

"And second?" Aurora intoned, her eyes watching my hand write the swooping letters.

"I need to know what it's like to be a dwarf," I said, finishing a looping letter, "So I'm going to ask Jotilda to assign me work. Maybe something that can make use of my fire affinity. But…" I tapped my pen against my chin, remembering how rigid my view of the dwarves' rebellion had been before. "Understanding comes from experience. And considering I need both of those, I need to do what I can to gain them."

Aurora hummed as I wrote, allowing the familiar action to settle my nerves. I was just about to say something else when a knock came at my door. I blinked in surprise, then immediately revved my mana as my hand shifted to where Inversion was strapped to my belt.

I couldn't sense whoever was on the other side of the door, either through mana or heartfire. My first guess was that Seris was here, but she had no reason to visit me personally. Or to knock.

I exchanged a serious look with my bond as she fluttered up to my shoulder. I carefully strode over toward the door. "Who is it?" I asked, my body ready for combat.

"This is the first time I have been made to wait in nearly a decade," a coolly familiar voice said from outside my door. "I do not appreciate it, Lord Daen."

I blinked in surprise. Seris?

I pulled open the door, feeling a genuine bit of shock seeing the dark-robed Scythe of Sehz-Clar waiting demurely on the other side. "Oh, Seris," I said, feeling slightly foolish. "I, uh, didn't think it was you. You don't exactly have a reason to be here. Knocking at my door," I said stupidly.

Way to go, Toren, I thought, cringing internally. You really are eloquent with your words, aren't you?

"Do I need a reason to speak with you?" Seris asked with a raised brow.

"I mean, normally, you have a reason to," I said awkwardly. "You don't call for social visits. It's a little strange."

Then my mind caught up with my tongue. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

I squeezed my eyes shut, switching from cringing to outright cursing in my head. "Forget I said anything, please. I'm more than happy to talk with you whenever you wish. It's just…."

"Just…?" Seris asked, tilting her head and letting her skepticism wash over me.

I sighed. "Would you like to come in?" Before I put my foot in my mouth anymore. "As you said, you haven't been made to wait for a decade."

Seris smiled slightly, walking past me and into the room. If anything, she at least appeared amused by my blatant fumble. She observed the place with a slight twitch of her lips, scanning over it slowly.

"It's nothing impressive right now," I said a bit quickly, walking past her and swiping my notebook off the desk before stashing it in my dimension ring. "But if I really wanted to make this place homey, I'd probably put some sort of painting on the walls, or get more decorations. Spice the place up a bit more."

Inside my head, I heard Aurora's chortle. I snapped a glare at the relic on my shoulder, but my irritation was cut through by the Scythe's silken voice. "I am certain you will find the time to… Spice the place up eventually," she said in a bemused tone. "But, unfortunately, I do have a few reasons for sweeping in unannounced."

I focused back on Seris, feeling a mote of confusion. "And what might those be?"

"Well," Seris said diplomatically, "Word reached me rather quickly of your expedition with the dwarven elder, and I would like to know the results of such an endeavor. But word reached me even swifter of your demotion of Kiel Patamoor and subsequent promotion of Lusul Hercross in his place."

I had planned to inform Seris of my decision there, but hadn't yet gotten the time. I should have expected her grasp of information to be faster, though. Aurora's relic hopped off my shoulder, fluttering to the windowsill.

I sat down in my desk chair, massaging the bridge of my nose with my thumb and pointer finger, something I knew I did when I felt annoyed. "I'm sure you can confirm with the necessary people, but Kiel was goading a fight with the dwarves in the cavern. I stepped in and put someone I believed to be more reliable in charge, considering we can't have such open hostility between our leaders if we want cooperation," I said honestly. "I thought you'd approve."

"So you aren't making a political play for power the moment we leave Alacrya?" Seris asked, tilting her head. "I did not think you the type. I'll have to factor this in with everything else now, Toren. You seem to enjoy making my life complicated."

"No," I said adamantly, shaking my head. "That was never my intention, I…" I paused, then looked more carefully at the Scythe across from me. Though she showed little on her face, there was an almost devious twinkle in her eye. Her demure pink lips seemed to curve just a bit at the edges as she pretended to inspect the dark paint on her nails.

Had she been teasing me?

I sighed, shaking my head. "I think I'll leave the political plotting to you, Seris," I said, feeling amused as a slight smile stretched across my lips. "I think I'm a bit too green to manage a spanning network of information. That seems like something you're better at than me."

Seris chuckled lightly. "Don't you think you could learn? You have a brilliant mind. I have no doubt that I could… mold you to be what you want. If you ask, I might even consider it. With the right concessions, of course."

"Concessions?" I asked, skeptical.

"Concessions," the Scythe echoed primly.

I narrowed my eyes at the glimmer in Seris' pupils, and this time I knew for certain that she was teasing me in some way. As I focused on her more directly, she kept her expression carefully placid, as if the surface of her face were the reflective planes of a clear lake or some sort of dark stone. No shift or change at all.

In contrast, I fought down the lopsided smirk that threatened to rise on my face.

"My poker face isn't good enough to be a spy," I replied, very aware that I was trying to put on a neutral front and failing drastically. A poor contrast to the actual spymaster across from me.

Seris' eyes flashed slightly, and I saw her lip twitch. "Poker face, Lord Daen?"

I paused, belatedly realizing that this world didn't have poker at all. She wouldn't know what I was talking about. "I can't keep a straight expression," I amended. "I can't mask my gambling hand to save my life. One look at my face and you know exactly what I'm trying to hide. It's worse with you especially."

My attention was drawn back to Seris as the Scythe walked closer, gracefully setting herself down in a leather, full-backed chair that diagonally faced my hearth, leaving us more or less across from one another. I watched as she crossed one leg over the other, her conservative midnight dress shifting as she did so.

How did she do that with such poise? Every movement seemed somehow scripted, as if they fitted perfectly into the Scythe's desires. Even how she crossed her slender hands over her lap seemed to be done as if a thousand times before–but it wasn't mechanical. In the same way a river charted the same path for centuries, yet remained constantly graceful.

"You have many strange sayings," Seris mused. I snapped myself from my introspection, forcing my eyes to remain on the Scythe's face and not on her legs. "I highly doubt the common mage in Sehz-Clar knows what this poker is either. Where do you get them from?"

My mind flashed back to the half-dozen times I had used Earthen expressions around Seris. I tended to do that more when I felt relaxed, but there wasn't exactly a way to explain… all that.

"I've been on many adventures and seen many things that even a Scythe wouldn't be able to comprehend," I decided to say instead. "You won't be learning where I get my wise little quips from no matter how hard you try," I finished with a lightly challenging tone.

I had a lot of sayings from Earth that I could pawn off as my own just to baffle the woman in front of me. I wondered: how many quotes from Shakespeare could I steal before people caught on?

My mood dipped a bit as I recognized the truth about that. Only Arthur Leywin could catch me on that, I thought. The real temptation of reincarnation isn't ultimate power. It's plagiarism.

Seris was inspecting me in a very, very strange way at my last sentence. One that almost made goosebumps run along the back of my spine and the hairs on my arms stand on end. There was something about the way her eyelids narrowed ever-so-slightly, her lashes casting shadows across her cheeks.

I shivered slightly, feeling that I'd said somethinf wrong somrhow. Naereni had told me once that my gaze in my Acquire Phase made her feel exposed. And for a brief heartbeat, I wondered if this was what she meant.

"Perhaps I shall take you up on that offer, Lord Daen," Seris finally replied. "But I still wish to know the results of your trek with the dwarven elder."

Thankfully, that strange prickling along my skin and itch in the back of my mind subsided as Seris shifted our conversation back on track.

"The trip into the tunnels was… enlightening," I said, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms as the moment shifted. "I was made aware that my perspectives on what I think is true are not as foolproof as I initially thought." I paused, feeling my brow furrow. "Right before you came here, I was making plans on how to address that limited perspective. I don't know much about the dwarves, and the assumptions I made limited my ability to understand further."

Seris leaned forward slightly as I spoke, her pearlescent hair spilling over her shoulders. After my words, she was silent for a long time, seeming lost in thought. "I've said such before to you, but it is worth saying again," she said slowly, her brow creasing as if to mirror my own, "To recognize the faulty nature of our own perception, Lord Daen, is something most never do. And rarely is it so simple."

I looked up at the Scythe, sensing something in her words. She held my gaze as if in a vice, my thoughts on the nature of her rebellion against Agrona.

There was certainly a time when Seris was no better than the other Scythes, wasn't there? When her loyalty to Agrona was solid and true?

And I found myself wondering what experience shifted her perspective. What had changed her perception so deeply that she would risk rebellion against one of the most powerful people in the world?

As she held my gaze, Seris Vritra's pink lips parted. "There is another reason I am here, Lord Daen," she said, her voice somewhere between serious and something else. The Scythe slowly stood, that movement just as graceful as anything else, before she flourished her hand.

I blinked, feeling the moment shift slightly as I saw a strange object appear in her palm. A dodecahedron a little larger than my fist settled into her dainty fingers. It appeared to be crafted of burnished steel with intricate designs woven along the metal plates. I narrowed my eyes as I sensed the fire mana within.

I slowly stood, walking closer uncertainly. Seris seemed to genuinely hesitate, which made me even more curious. "What is this?" I asked, looking down at the object she held in her hand.

"It is a puzzle of dwarven make," Seris said, "Designed to challenge the minds of their greatest fire-attribute mages. I do believe one must imbue the device with fire mana, aiming to eventually alight this symbol at the center," she continued, her dark eyes glinting slightly as she gestured toward a glyph shaped like fire at the center of one of the sides.

She held out the puzzle, and I felt a bit confused. I gently took the item from her hand, inspecting the craftsmanship. It was surprisingly heavy, feeling entirely solid. I could sense a bit of fire mana within, and I felt the urge to imbue the little dodecahedron myself.

"Is this the next step in my training?" I asked. "I think I've got a good handle on using the Dicathian style of magic casting, but if there are places I could improve…" I trailed off as I looked at the Scythe's face, a bemused expression there. "What?"

"Do you know what day it is, Lord Daen?" Seris asked.

I furrowed my brow, internally counting the days. "It's Wednesday," I said, "Right? Or was I in that cavern longer than I thought?"

Seris chuckled slightly, a sound like tinkling bells. I felt my ears heat slightly as that sound caressed them, feeling foolish for a reason I couldn't pinpoint. "What is the date, Lord Daen?"

"It's June 12, isn't it? Is that some sort of holiday, or something?" I asked, feeling dreadfully confused. What was on June– "Oh," I said stupidly, realization hitting me like a truck.

After all, June 12th was my birthday. Toren's birthday, to be exact. This body turned eighteen today, a critical age in both Alacrya and Earth. Considering everything else I had balanced on my mind, birthdays felt too inconsequential to remember.

I hadn't even thought about it, but I'd past my Earthen birthday too, hadn't I?

I felt my face flush with embarrassment at the blunder. I coughed into my fist, forcing my eyes to remain on the dwarven sculpture in my hands. "Thank you, Seris," I said quietly, bowing slightly in respect. "It's a wonderful gift. I'll admit it slipped my mind that today was my birthday at all."

Seris stepped away from me, taking the floral scent of her perfume with her. "So formal," she said, sounding amused. "I will be inquiring on how you solve this puzzle, Lord Daen. I wish to know its secrets myself, but I do not bear the necessary skills to do so."

My fingers wrapped possessively around the little dodecahedron in my hand. "You'll be the first to know when I've completed it."

Seris moved back to the seat, lowering herself down with the poise of a queen. "That is well. But from what the craftsman told me, it is one of their most challenging puzzles. Do not expect an easy victory in this."

I felt the fire mana churning slightly within the puzzle, like the kindling of a true flame. In turn, I felt a bit of fire building in my chest too at the challenge. I was damn good at these kinds of things. "What do I get if I complete it?" I said, raising a brow as I smirked at the Scythe. "Maybe you could train me to be a spy after all."

The Scythe slowly shook her head. "I'm afraid there are some things that not even my expertise can fix." Her eyes traced over my facial features imperiously. "You changed my mind. That arrogant smirk on your face would give you away no matter what I tried."

"But there's got to be something after. If you want to lead me on, you've got to make it enticing enough." I quirked up a brow. "Another puzzle, perhaps? Maybe you'll eventually find one that can actually stump me. Do you think you could make me try?"

Seris opened her mouth, closed it, and then raised a hand to her chin as she studied me with a tilt of her head. "Such arrogant words, Lord Daen," she said. "You should know what you are stepping into."

I huffed. "I know precisely what I'm getting myself into," I retorted, allowing my emblem to spin the puzzle about me in a theatrical display. I sat back into my seat with a leisurely drop, crossing one leg over the other in an exaggerated fashion as my lopsided grin grew even wider.

Seris shook her head slowly, sighing lightly. "Such bravado. I'll await your inevitable requests for assistance while–"

The Scythe's words petered off before she suddenly frowned, her posture shifting slightly. "Wait a moment," she said, flourishing her hand. A small communication artifact settled there, glinting in the low light. It was flashing bright red and vibrating in her palm, simultaneously emitting pulses into the ambient mana.

A sign of an urgent message. The Scythe funneled mana into the device, seeming to forget for a moment that I was here.

"Report, Cylrit." Seris commanded, "Why have you used the urgent line?"

"Important news, my Scythe," Cylrit's voice echoed out from the other end. "Retainer Uto has departed to prepare an ambush for Lance Godspell in coordination with Elder Rahdeas near our refuges along the northern border of Sapin. Your presence has been requested to ensure the battle proceeds as necessary."

Seris did not wait long to reply. "Very well," she said evenly. "I shall be there swiftly."

The red flashing lights dimmed, and the mana pulses petered out. The Scythe looked up from the artifact, meeting my eyes. "Well, Lord Daen," she said simply. "I believe we have your next assignment."