Discordant Note | TBATE

Chapter 122: Pieces

Afterward, we'd settled into a strange sort of playful dance. A back and forth that crested when we met in her headquarters in Aedelgard. But her willingness to still shift me like a striker on the Sovereign's Quarrel board...

"I don't think I should be justifying my taste in women to either of you," I said with a note of irritation. "It's perfectly understandable from my perspective."

Sevren huffed out, but Aurora's puppet form shivered in agitation.

"If you're so content with your taste in women," Sevren said, "What's got you so ruffled?"

I tapped a finger on my arm, staring at that mirror image of myself in the recording artifact. My eyes were glazed over, looking to the sky with an expression of near-emptiness. The renewed sigil of Named Blood Daen stood out prominently on my chest.

"After we parted in the Relictombs, there was a lead I needed to track down." I looked at Sevren from the side of my eyes. "You know my ongoing quarrel with the Vicar of Plague? He's gone now. But he won't be forever. So I've been tracing his path of experimentation and destruction." I tilted my head, attuning myself to the surrounding heartfires. "But I'm not going to say anything where I'll be heard."

I looked up to the nearby rooftops. There weren't many people out in the aftermath of the storm, but I could certainly feel the mages spying on me. There were far more than ever before. I looked toward where I sensed them one by one, covertly flaring my killing intent. I'd grown skilled enough to direct it in sparse, segmented sections. And that made the terror every spy felt far more personal.

They scattered like locusts fleeing a field; little blurs jumping through the muggy air. I still felt tired.

You defaulted on killing intent again, a part of myself chastised. How long until that's all you do to get what you want?

It was just so easy to use that tool at my disposal. I found myself yearning for Renea's experience in speaking. She'd been able to force Mardeth out of his powerbase with only words. No mana involved.

Sevren watched all of this with the same tiredness I felt. He was no stranger to being followed himself, I knew.

"Lady Shorn set up my next show in Aensgar," I said. "In a mid-sized theater in their middle-class district. The owner just finished its construction and owes her a favor. So I'm going to be the opening act."

It didn't take long for Sevren to put two and two together. "And that's where you need to go to reach Mardeth," he said quietly.

"Not exactly," I said truthfully. "But it's where I need to start. And I had no good reason to refuse."

"And Renea Shorn hates Mardeth as well, doesn't she?" Sevren asked, his face darkening.

"She does."

Sevren turned around, then kicked a rock with enough force to send it flying into the sky. His mana churned under the surface.

"That's what it's always like, Toren," he said bitterly. "That's all they'll do. Manipulate and move you around the board. That's all they know. And all they'll ever know."

I felt surprised by Sevren's outburst. I was unnerved by the subtle manipulation Renea had performed, but the Denoir heir... he was angry.

"And now you're going to be at the center. They're all going to try and move you around like a pawn. Like one of their little toys. I've already drawn too much attention to you by being seen with you constantly."

I exhaled through my nose. "I've been expecting that," I said quietly. "With my plans for the future, clashes with the uppermost echelons of this continent are inevitable. And I have some people by my side who see me as more than just a piece."