Page 20 of Daemon Master

twenty

Adrian awoke the day after Ghosttear’s partial meltdown with a tight knot of anxiety squeezing his throat. Sure, Elana had given them the benefit of the doubt. But how would the rest of the Enclave react to news of Freya’s bond? Would they respond with curiosity, or with fear and loathing as Leda had? Had Seymour and he lost whatever fledgling progress they’d made?

Groaning, he forced himself to rise and go about his usual morning routine. Hiding in their hut wouldn’t solve anything. He found Seymour already outside, overseeing a training exercise between Tremorfist and Shadowlash. No direct combat, thank the spirits—the last thing people needed to see after yesterday was daemon-on-daemon violence.

Seymour eyed him as he approached. “You all right?”

“Fine,” Adrian muttered, running a hand through his tangled hair.

“Really?” Seymour turned back to his daemons. “Because you seem as nervous as a watcher recruit on their first assignment.”

Adrian took a moment to answer, scanning the ring of stones and logs that had become the impromptu meeting spot for their morning discussions. “Where’s Freya?”

Seymour shrugged. “Not here.”

That seemed an ominous sign. Usually, she was the first to arrive, badgering Seymour until he begrudgingly agreed to demonstrate a strike or block. But today, all the seats stood empty.

“I thought you’d be thrilled by Elana’s endorsement,” Seymour said eventually, still watching his daemons. “Instead, you’re acting like we’ve already lost.”

“Maybe we have,” Adrian replied, his voice rigid. He knew he wasn’t being entirely rational, but he couldn’t help his creeping dread. “We need to be ready in case we have to leave quickly.”

Seymour turned toward him, raising his brow. “Adrian, Elana sided with us against her own sister. I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

As if the watcher’s words had broken a dam within him, Adrian’s fears came spilling out. “There’s plenty to worry about! What if Elana changed her mind or was putting on a front for her daughter’s sake? What if the rest of the Enclave sides with Leda? What if Freya never speaks to us again? Spirits below, they could be meeting right now to decide our fate!”

Striding forward in two quick steps, Seymour grabbed him roughly by the shoulders. Despite his agitation, Adrian found the watcher’s firm grip comforting, helping to ground him.

“Spirits above, snap out of it!” Seymour said. “You can’t allow what-ifs to consume you. No matter what happens, we’ll face it together. Right?”

Deep breath in, deep breath out.“Right.”

Seymour gave his shoulders a brief squeeze before letting go to clap him on the back. “That’s more like it.” He looked past Adrian and smirked. “Besides, if you have any lingering doubts about where we stand, you can just ask her yourself.”

“What do you—” He followed the watcher’s gaze, his eyes widening.

Elana shuffled down the street toward them, her colorful shawls shimmering in the morning sun. Her expressionless face gave away nothing of her emotions, and Adrian’s heartbeat quickened. Had she come to confront them before anyone else arrived?

If anyone else arrived…

He tried to marshal some of Seymour’s confidence as he bowed to the Enclave’s leader. “Elana. A pleasure to see you this, um, fine morning. What can I, uh, do for you?”

“Good morning, Adrian. Seymour.” She nodded politely to each of them. Her tone was pleasant enough, though Adrian caught a tightness to it that might indicate tiredness. Or suppressed disdain. “I hope I’m not intruding. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Seymour had already turned away after a muttered greeting, leaving it up to Adrian to answer. He cleared his throat. “We’re good. Why…why wouldn’t we be?”

Elana raised an eyebrow at his breathless response. “Well, you did expend much of your aether yesterday resolving a daemon attack. I’d assumed that’s why you made yourselves scarce.”

“Er, um, yeah. My rest was…restful.”

He winced inwardly. Spirits below, could he sound any more incompetent? He needed to get a grip. He’d been calmer confronting Elana weeks ago. Of course, back then, he hadn’t felt like they had so much to lose.

Thankfully, Elana chose to ignore his awkwardness. “Glad to hear it. I’m sure you’ll also be relieved to hear that Ghosttear is adapting well.”

He blinked. “Adapting to what?”

“To his new living arrangements, of course.” Elana moved to the nearest sitting stone and sank down with a soft sigh. “Apologies, but I’ve spent too much time on my feet as of late.”

“Not at all.” He hurriedly took a seat across from her, still puzzling over what she’d said. “I’m afraid I missed something. What’s happening with Ghosttear? I assumed…”

Well, truth be told, he wasn’t sure what he’d assumed. Guilt wound its way through him. He’d been so distracted agonizing over Elana, Leda, and the Enclave’s reaction, he hadn’t given much thought to how Ghosttear had fared following its ordeal.

“After what happened, I decided it best to isolate him from the rest of our daemons,” Elana explained. “For both his safety and theirs.” She must’ve misconstrued his expression because she added, “Not to worry—he will still be well cared for. Though I’d recommend against Seymour or you spending too much time with him given your…sensitivity to his technique.”

Adrian shook his head. “That’s not—I mean, we will. I’m just…surprised. I’d have expected everyone to be skittish around Ghosttear after what happened.”

A faint grin thawed Elana’s serene features. “Oh, I suspect many will be. But most of us have spent the better part of two decades among wild daemons. Ghosttear’s outburst is far from the worst crisis we’ve faced, nor do I expect it will be the last. What sort of daemon sympathizers would we be if we turned on them the instant they became inconvenient?”

Adrian supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. As Elana said, coexistence was a core part of the Enclave’s philosophy. Still, it reinforced his determination to earn their trust.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” he said, adopting the pronoun she’d used for Ghosttear. “And…thank you for standing up for us. It couldn’t have been an easy choice.”

“Easier than you might expect.” Elana’s jaw tensed, her eyes hardening. “I’d hoped Leda would come around, but she can be as stubborn as a stump when she’s convinced she’s right. Three weeks have done nothing to temper her animosity toward you, and yesterday’s incident…well, she and eight of the others have made themselves scarce.”

He bowed his head, shame heating his skin. “I didn’t mean to drive a wedge between you.”

“This isn’t your fault, Adrian. My conflict with Leda has been brewing for years.” She sighed, some of the anger bleeding out of her. “Maybe time away will help clear her head. Despite our differences, she is still my sister. I trust her to eventually do the right thing.”

Remembering the hate in Leda’s eyes before she’d stormed off, he wasn’t so sure, but he kept his doubts to himself. “Then, you really don’t agree with her? About us or the true bond?”

Elana fixed him with a stern look. “I meant every word I said yesterday. Bondstones might be tantamount to slavery, but any fool can see how your daemons adore you. I would’ve supported you, even had…” Her throat caught, and she took a deep breath. “Even had my daughter not decided to become one of you.”

He nodded, relief loosening the knot in his chest. He might’ve asked more about Freya, but the girl chose that moment to appear around a bend. Her steps faltered when she saw her mother.

Elana’s face turned stony. “I believe I’ve taken up enough of your time,” she said, standing. “Enjoy the rest of your morning.”

With one last stiff nod, the Enclave’s leader hobbled off. Adrian didn’t miss the pointed way she avoided looking at her daughter, nor how Freya stiffened as she passed. For all Elana’s talk of acceptance, tension obviously lingered between them.

“Glad you could make it today,” he called to Freya.

She mumbled something that might’ve been a greeting and slumped onto a log without any of her usual exuberance. Her eyes, he noticed, appeared red and puffy, as if she’d been crying.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said dully, staring at the ground.

“Are you sure? Because if you need to talk, I—”

“Just let it go!” she snapped, her back tensing. “My mother and I had a little disagreement about my future, that’s all. It doesn’t matter.”

No sign of Metamire, Adrian realized. Perhaps she had the daemon melded with her to attract less attention around the village. Sympathy fluttered through him. He knew what it was like to feel everyone else’s judging eyes upon you.

Footsteps crunched in the dirt as Seymour joined them. “Good. Then, I assume you won’t object to some training.”

“Training?” She glanced up, her forehead wrinkling.

“Yes, training. Or do you intend to let your newfound power go to waste? Now that you’ve properly bonded a daemon, you have a lot to learn if you wish to master your link.”

For a moment, Freya simply stared at the watcher, her mouth hanging slightly agape. Then, tears filled her eyes. Her lips stretched into the widest grin Adrian had ever seen as she threw herself to her feet, wrapping Seymour in a tight embrace.

“Yes, well.” Seymour cleared his throat, and Adrian bit back a laugh at the watcher’s obvious discomfort. Shaking Freya off, he strode toward the woods. “Hurry up. Daylight’s burning.”

Freya gave Adrian an apologetic look. “Do you mind? If you need me here, I can—”

“Go,” he chuckled, waving her off. “I can handle the morning discussion on my own today.”

Nodding, she ran after Seymour. As Adrian watched her go, he made a mental note to check in on her later. He knew from firsthand experience how rough the watcher’s ‘lessons’ could be.

Part of him had doubted anyone else would show up no matter what Elana said, but to his relief, it didn’t take long for other villagers to begin trickling in. By his usual start time, attendees filled every seat, and more stood in a loose crowd at the back. A few glared with open hostility, but most appeared simply curious, and he got his fair share of smiles or respectful nods.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said, raising his voice to ensure it carried to the people in back. “Thank you all for coming. As always, I’m happy to discuss anything you’d like about my experiences in the outside world. Does anyone have any questions for me?”

Silence, save the rustling of so many bodies in close proximity. Near half the village must be there that morning—far more than had ever attended his morning discussions before. He waited for someone to speak up and wasn’t surprised when Xander stood from his seat near the front.

The kid appeared even more nervous than usual, shifting from foot to foot. When he spoke, his voice came out a barely audible croak. “C-c-can you t-tell us more a-about the t-t-true bond?”

Adrian sucked in a breath. He’d expected the topic to come up at some point, but not so soon, nor so directly. While he figured out how best to respond, he gauged the crowd’s reaction and found them listening with rapt attention. Xander must not be the only one intrigued by the topic.

Suppressing a grin, Adrian launched into an explanation of what they knew about the true bond and soon found himself fielding questions on everything from what it felt like having a bonded daemon to how—hypothetically, of course—one could form a bond of their own.

Freya might be an anomaly for now, but once people had time to adjust, he suspected the true bond would spread like wildfire. Pride swelled within him at the thought. Though the Enclave was only a single tiny village, cut off from the rest of the League, convincing anyone of the truth felt like a grand victory against Serenity Corp. With any luck, it would be but the first of many.

Two more days passed before Adrian finally made a breakthrough in understanding Kali’s aetherforged relics. At first, he prayed he’d made a mistake. But no matter how many times he checked and rechecked the deteriorating enchantments, the results remained the same.

“How could they?” he whispered as he sat back, staring at the spirit-cursed objects while a creeping numbness pervaded him. “How could they?”

But of course, he could imagine all too well how Serenity Corp might’ve justified the atrocities to themselves. Anything for the greater good.

He found Seymour and Freya at their usual spot along the village outskirts. From the state of Seymour’s aura, Adrian guessed he was working on his melds. For an instant, Seymour’s aether aligned with Tremorfist’s, the two resonating in unison, and Adrian held his breath. He puffed it out when the tenuous reverse Surge splintered before it could fully form. Still, he’d have to congratulate Seymour later—even coming that close to the difficult meld was worth celebrating.

Freya, meanwhile, appeared to be practicing with Metamire’s technique. Adrian had rarely seen it in action, and he took a moment now to watch as the undulating daemon fired off Volatile Bolts at crude targets erected around the clearing. Each blast of energy manifested as a random element with the same shifting inconsistency as Metamire’s form.

Most of the bolts found their mark, but occasionally, Freya would have to rush over to stamp out a patch of burning brush from a missed shot. Shadowlash sat off to the side by herself, keeping an eye on both daemon masters but mostly taking the chance to rest. Her Cloak of Shadows flickered around her, the darkness rendering her partially incorporeal.

Eventually, Freya noticed Adrian and waved, starting over. “Adrian! What are you doing here? I thought you were planning to spend today aetherforging.”

“You better not have given up already,” Seymour said as he broke off his own exercises to join them. He squinted at Adrian. “Please tell me you’ve got something to report.”

Adrian’s earlier distress came flooding back, and he blurted, “It’s daemons!”

Freya glanced at Seymour, who shrugged. “What’s daemons?” she asked.

“Kali’s relics!” Needing an outlet for the frantic energy churning within him, Adrian began to pace, gesticulating wildly as he spoke. Fallen leaves crunched underfoot. “Watching Ghosttear the other day, I realized Kali’s relics possess the same inherent instability he does—like the aether doesn’t quite align. So, I started thinking that perhaps they came from the same source.”

“Project Paragon,” Seymour said with a grimace. “Makes sense. But what does that have to do with imbuing daemonic techniques?”

Adrian’s stomach churned as he reluctantly forced out the words. “Crastley’s notes made it sound like Project Paragon was about searching for alternative ways to harness a daemon’s aether without the need for bondstones. Well, what if they succeeded?”

Freya understood first, gasping as she clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh. Oh, no.”

Adrian nodded wearily. My thoughts exactly.

Seymour scowled as his gaze flicked between them. “Will someone tell me what I’m missing?” Both his daemons let out low growls, echoing their daemon master’s frustration.

“Kali’s relics don’t just mimic daemonic techniques,” Adrian explained dully. “They embody them. Unlike regular aetherforging where a daemon master invests their aether along an object’s natural aether currents to strengthen them, this new method utilizes a daemon’s very essence instead, effectively imprisoning them so that their technique can be activated on command. But based on the degradation in Kali’s relics, this process appears to be unstable. Over time, the artificial aetherforgings crack and allow the stored energy to leak away.”

“And when the vessel breaks and the power fades…” Seymour whispered as he caught on.

Adrian closed his eyes and nodded. “Hopefully, the daemon would already be dead by then. Otherwise, it would be like…” He swallowed. “Like they’re slowly being ripped apart as their essence is used up bit by bit.”

There was a furious rustling of leaves, and he snapped his eyes open to find Freya had taken up pacing in his stead. Metamire’s gelatinous bulk quivered in her wake, his shifting form bristling in a way that mirrored his daemon master’s distress.

“There must be something we can do,” Freya said, her voice tinged with desperation. “If they’ve been imprisoned within the relics, maybe we can figure out how to set them free.”

Adrian bowed his head, fixing his gaze on a broken branch. “Whatever Serenity Corp did to meld them with the relics is no ordinary reverse Fusion. It’s as if every speck of their aether has been seared into the device. There’s no way to untangle it back into a corporeal body.”

Freya whirled, balling her hands into fists. “Serenity Corp can’t get away with this! If the League knew the truth, they’d be horrified!”

“Maybe.” Seymour flexed his jaw. “Maybe not. People can turn a blind eye to a lot of injustices for the illusion of peace. They might accept this as a necessary evil.”

Freya’s eyes blazed. “Then we’ll show them how wrong they are!”

“We?” Seymour raised an eyebrow. “Last I checked, this was our crusade, not yours.”

Freya squared her shoulders and raised her chin in a defiant glare. “This should be everyone’s crusade.” A hint of uncertainty flickered across her face. “Ever since you got here, you’ve spoken about your plans as though it’s the two of you against the world. But I…I want to help, however I can. And I’m sure there are others in the Enclave who would feel the same.”

Suddenly, Freya’s hesitation when they’d discussed the tournament and their other plans made a lot more sense. It wasn’t mere curiosity that drove her, but something deeper. Perhaps that was why she’d been so quick to adopt the true bond when the rest of her people balked, as well as the source of her underlying tension with her mother. Adrian doubted Elana would be pleased at the prospect of her daughter leaving the sanctuary she’d sought to build.

Seymour considered Freya for a long moment before slowly nodding, a newfound respect softening his expression. He turned back to Adrian. “I assume this means those illusion charms of yours are a no go?”

“Actually, I’m not sure we need to give up on that plan quite yet,” Adrian said, a bit of the weight lifting from him. “Understanding how Kali’s relics work offered some insight into possible alternatives. After all, they’re not the only examples of advanced aetherforging we have.”

“The journal!” Freya said.

Adrian nodded. That had been the one bright spot in his studies over the past couple days. “It operates on a similar principle, channeling a daemon’s imbued power to mimic a technique—in this case, Heartrender’s Mirror Image to transform the pages into nonsense if you don’t possess a true bond. But unlike Kali’s relics, the enchantment appears far more stable.”

Seymour rolled his eyes, relieving some of the lingering tension. “And I suppose you’re going to tell us why.”

Adrian grinned faintly. “Of course. You see, it doesn’t try to cram a daemon’s entire essence into a vessel and then forcibly extract its technique. Instead, it uses aether granted willingly by a daemon. Heartrender doesn’t recall much of the process Crastley used, but she agrees with my general assessment. Since the daemon’s aether isn’t trying to break free, it takes much longer for the enchantment to deteriorate.”

“That sounds a lot more complicated than Kali’s relics,” Freya noted. “Those simply activate a technique when you give them aether while the journal’s enchantment is always active. Not to mention how it’s bound to a specific characteristic of the reader, only affecting them if they don’t have a true bond.”

“True,” Adrian conceded. “It must have taken Crastley years to tweak the pattern just right.”

Seymour snorted. “And you intend to replicate his hard work in a matter of weeks? No offense, Adrian, but this sounds even more impossible than it did before.”

“Thankfully, what we need should be much simpler than the journal—closer to Kali’s relics in intent if not execution. Plus, I have the advantage of the reverse Surge on Crastley. That should make it easier to direct Heartrender’s aether and shape the aetherforging.” If I can figure out how to hold the state for longer than a few seconds, he didn’t say aloud.

Freya tapped a finger against her chin. “There’s one other thing that confuses me.”

“Only one?” Seymour muttered.

“If Crastley discovered a new aetherforging method, why didn’t he mention it in his notes?”

Adrian hesitated. The same question had occurred to him. “Maybe…maybe he ran out of time to record it.” Adrian didn’t really believe that, though. More likely, Crastley had intentionally concealed the information.

“Perhaps he didn’t want anyone else to find out,” Seymour suggested, echoing Adrian’s thoughts. “If Kali’s relics came from Project Paragon, Crastley must have known about them.”

“That would explain how he came up with the idea in the first place,” Freya said, nodding. “He already had a model to use.” She grimaced. “And I can certainly understand why he’d want to keep knowledge like that hidden from prying eyes. I’d probably do the same in his position.”

While Freya and Seymour continued their discussion, Adrian’s mind turned to the future. Tomorrow, Elana would pass judgment on their position in the Enclave, and the tournament qualifiers in Haven began only a few short weeks later. Adrian remained a far cry from a real aetherforger. Nevertheless, he prayed this breakthrough would help him craft the relics they needed to enact their plan. Because one way or another, he intended to make Serenity Corp pay.