Discordant Note | TBATE

Chapter 132: A Ball

Toren Daen

I took Oath back from the bulky Taegan as I reached the edge of the estate walls. He seemed reluctant to hand me my weapon, more from general wariness than any sort of greed.

"I have been ordered to tell you that the Matron Denoir wishes you the best in your future endeavors," he said brusquely, "And that she hopes you will accede to her offer."

It took me a moment to recognize what the crimson-haired man referenced by 'offer.' My hand subconsciously patted the sealed envelope in my vest pocket where I'd hastily stashed it. "I will," I said courteously, before finally extricating myself from the walls.

I looked up at the empty sky, sighing in a mixture of relief and agitation.

How well did I handle myself in that meeting? I asked internally. I'm certain I misstepped somehow, but your input is what made it possible for me to face these kinds of things at all.

The Unseen World washed over me, coating the vibrant light of the sunless Relictombs sky in a murky mist. "When meeting with Highlady Denoir, you conducted yourself well for one so inexperienced," she said. "You maintained a respectful and even air throughout, never saying too much or too little, all the while staying focused on your ultimate goal instead of letting her pull you along. Though it would have been more advantageous to smother your anxiety and tension to her eyes. We both know she felt a level of wariness speaking with you. It emanated in wisps over her intent, yet that was the only outward display you could decipher of her true thoughts. It gave her leverage over you. Power."

I sighed as I plodded down the well-maintained streets of the upper-class highblood estate area of the Relictombs. It's hard for me to smother my emotions, I admitted. Especially as I've grown into my intent-based music and grown more adept at empathizing with others to heal. Putting up a mask becomes difficult.

The irony of the situation was not lost on me. My personality drifted toward genuine honesty, but my entire presence in Alacrya and the secrets I held constituted a larger lie than any others could comprehend.

Aurora's shade hummed. "Ultimately, there was no simple way to avoid the glaring question of the Denoir heir's absence. And Lenora Denoir treated you, if not as an outright adversary, then certainly as an opponent in a contest of wills. That you responded in turn is not innately wrong." The ghostly phoenix looked at me intently. "Though I question if it was a wise decision to heal the wrist of the second-born son."

I haven't been sparing in displaying my aetheric healing abilities, I responded, turning down a mostly empty street. Here and there, guards patrolled the walkways and mages walked in pairs. I seemed to be the only one out and about alone. I wasn't heading in any particular direction. Eventually, I'd need to work my way through the Relictombs to reach the Town Zone again to deliver Sevren's toolkit, but I needed time to process this most recent encounter. Some spellforms can enable someone to heal others, though they're exceedingly rare. More rare than emitters are on Dicathen, I suspect. Those who witnessed my abilities will likely suspect that to be the cause.

I wondered about the lack of powerful healing magic in Alacrya. Many spellforms granted mildly enhanced regeneration, but the healing of others was a rare, rare gift.

Is the djinnic blood in the people of Alacrya more diluted than it is on Dicathen? I wondered, recalling what allowed healing mages to operate on the other continent. Or is the Vritra lineage in most humans somehow clashing with the peaceful nature of the djinn's blood?

My Phoenix Will and former basilisk blood had been less 'water and oil' and more 'water and alkali metals.' I wondered if a similar reaction occurred that denied Alacrya the development of emitters.