Discordant Note | TBATE

Chapter 109: Of Another Land

Toren Daen

I leaned against a wall on the second floor of the Relictombs, tapping my fingers against my arm. The rhythmic pulses of heartbeats and flows of mana all around me brushed against my perception, teasing me with subtle knowledge of all those nearby.

Ever since my Sculpting, my sense of intent increased proportionally to my feel for mana. I'd been slowly getting a hold of the impressions people subconsciously left in the ambient mana ever since I started using my violin to project my emotions, but that was like grasping at smoke. I got flashes of insight into how people were feeling; or glimpses into their hidden desires. But that was faint and fleeting like the mist Karsien was so good at using.

In this zone, so populated with people and industry, that bare perception became a notable sensation that interweaved with my normal mana sense. But I wasn't skilled enough to trace individual emotions to whoever was feeling them. There were too many signatures; too much interfering noise. It was as if hundreds of different colors of paint were poured into a single tub, and then swirled around lightly. It was hard to tell where one shade started and another ended.

And good luck following that color to its source.

Aurora was resting, something she didn't have to do before the Sculpting. In my opinion, she had earned every bit of rest she could get.

The Shimmerken's Hoard bustled with laughter and singing in the distance, audible only due to my enhanced hearing. Light streamed from the windows, giving it a cheery glow.

I felt someone approach from the side, their suppressed presence unable to hide from my empowered senses. They walked up to my side, but I didn't turn to look at them.

"Any reason why you didn't want to meet inside that tavern?" Sevren Denoir asked.

I exhaled from my nose slightly as I turned to the highblood heir, scrutinizing him briefly. He was wearing his usual dark colors, with his teal cloak to top it off. With his pale skin and brilliant white hair, he created a stark contrast with the rest of his ensemble.

"That was where I met Darrin Ordin," I replied. "And the rest of the Unblooded party. It has good memories, but I don't think it's for me anymore."

Sevren nodded slowly. I didn't know if he truly understood my hesitances, but that didn't ultimately matter.

I myself was wearing loose, gray pants that gave my legs plenty of room to breathe. The material they were made of was soft and durable: a notable step up from my usual attire. A long-sleeved maroon tunic clung close to my chest, accentuating my toned physique. Out of habit and acquired taste, I was wearing a set of dark fingerless gloves that covered the rest of my tattoo. Over it all, I wore a dark overcoat that opened at the front. Oath was strapped snuggly at my waist.

The money I'd made from my accolades had been enough for a substantial wardrobe upgrade. The vendor who had sold me these garments had claimed they were rated for surviving ascents, and considering the price tag and other customers I saw milling about, I was inclined to believe him.

I pushed off the brick wall I'd been leaning against. "Well, I have a promise to keep," I said with a bit of a sigh. "You'll want to follow me," I added as I began to walk down the street.

Sevren easily kept pace with me. "And where exactly are we going?" he queried.

I felt my lips draw into a thin line. "You wanted to know of the Relictombs," I said solemnly. "So you're going to follow me on an ascent, from start to finish."

Sevren narrowed his eyes, but he didn't say any more as we began our trek toward the ascension platform.

My eyes flicked to the nearby rooftops as we walked. Among the mishmash of mana and lifeforce signatures, I could just pick out a few along several different points on the rooftops above.