Discordant Note | TBATE

Chapter 85: To Track

Toren Daen

Sevren set me down near the top of a nearby building. The searing pain in my core had only intensified the longer time went on, the sensation like the ramping increase of a blowtorch along my nerves. I fought off tears as I groaned, biting my tongue hard to avoid screaming. If I screamed now, I knew I'd attract all the undead in the area.

It was a constant battle to restrain myself. I was feeling slightly delirious from the pain, each movement coming in choppy spurts. Compared to what I felt from my core, the cut across my thigh was closer to a bee sting.

But I was still vaguely aware of my surroundings, even if my consciousness was iffy. The moment Sevren sat me down, I reluctantly forced my attention inward.

What I saw made my panic rise even higher. The runes scrawled across the outer layer of my core, which usually glowed the color of simmering coals, were so bright it hurt to even look at them. It felt like my core was being branded by these glyphs, each taking their time to scar the surface.

I sluggishly began to pull mana from my core. I still had a little over half my reserves available, and considering my core was solid yellow, I had a significant maximum capacity. The mana complied haltingly, slowly dispersing into my body as I'd done for months now.

But it wasn't enough. That was in the nature of assimilation: you could not do it alone, no matter your skill. Just as a mage must learn to act in tandem with their Will, they must learn to accept the assistance of others.

"Do... do what I'm," I tried to say, before groaning. Each inhale sent more ratcheting agony through my body. I tried to say 'doing,' but all that came out was a strangled moan.

Sevren seemed to understand what I was trying to say regardless. I felt his hands on my back, his mana streaming from his palms.

He recoiled almost instantly once his mana came in contact with my own.

"Merciful Vritra," he cursed. "That... my mana felt like it burned. What-"

The mage seemed to realize I was slipping. He put his hands on my back again, and then restarted the process. His own mana hovered around my own, acting as a stabilizing force. My mana wanted to disperse; vanish into the atmosphere and break down into smaller particles.

It took all of my willpower to fight through the agony. It was as if I was trying to move a muscle that had been sent through a woodchipper. Every twitch and pull tugged on my consciousness deeper into the abyss. Every sharp rise in heat made my willpower falter, chipping away at it slowly like a chisel.

But as the hours wore on and the familiar process continued, the pain began to decrease. In turn, I was able to increase my output of mana. I slowly, agonizingly, pulled myself away from the brink. One day, I might succumb to such pain. But it was not today.

I recognize vaguely that my body was almost fully assimilated. Between the regular use of my Will speeding up the necessary processes and the utter mastery of Lady Dawn's mana control, what had taken Arthur a couple of years was almost done in a matter of months.

When I finally opened my eyes, I was soaked through with sweat. My breathing was ragged, and despite the constant regeneration of mana from the feather floating in my core, I was nearing backlash so soon after suppressing the rising of the Phoenix Will.

I could still feel my Vritra blood. Like the will, it felt like its own semi-conscious... thing pulsing in my mind. Yet this one was dark. It was a shadow as much as my Will was light. It was hungry, but not for anything in particular. It just sought to break things down. Break anything down.