[Severed Divinity] 98. Ongoing Integration

Isen had been unable to see the destruction of the upper level until they’d climbed onto Emerai and flown above the city. Even then, his eyes had barely been able to make out details. It almost looked like someone had taken an enormous plow and carved it across the sect plateau.

What had really shaken Isen were the deaths of all the civilians when Sumana Laius surfaced, and both it and Yvonne's utter lack of remorse. He’d been unable to ignore the screams and the sounds of their bodies collapsing when facing the extreme cold of the Dray Anarch’s uncontrolled aura.

He’d almost liked Sumana Laius before that point. The beast had helped him to sense Ros, and had served as a grindstone upon which to practice his own burgeoning aura control. And while it had been angered by them sending the prototypes away, out of the city, Isen found such a reaction reasonable.

But he’d forgotten that Sumana Laius wasn’t one of them. It was a monster. Its kind loved to eat humans, elves, and whatever else crossed their path.

A part of him wondered if Ros would be the same on the surface: Utterly inured to the suffering of others.

On that note, Welco surprised him. He wondered if the Femera patriarch even registered the tears drying across his own cheeks, instantly evaporating in the harsh wind. Isen had seen relatively little, but Welco had shadows all over the city, cataloging destruction, fear, and panic. His shadows must have watched as Aran tore through the upper level, killing whoever was in his way.

Welco loved to plaster a conniving smile on his face and feign impassivity, acting dismissive or inane, but he definitely cared. More than most—maybe more than anyone, given the great lengths, and risks, he’d shouldered to thwart Devon Aran’s actions in Eldrassin City. Having his plans come crashing down near the end—first with the revelation of Lumina’s survival, then with the alliance between Sumana Laius and Yvonne Lehal—must have been demoralizing.

While Welco discussed their first stop—where Allezin had apparently hidden one of the prototypes—Isen focused on his latest message from the voice of Legacy.

Aura detected. Characterizing aura...

Calculating impact...

Warning: Novice Bearer system currently limited due to ongoing integration.

Time to integration completion: Unavailable.

Isen recalled the pain of what must have been his aura’s first manifestation with a shudder. Under Yvonne’s void aura, it had felt like something was struggling to break free. And when it finally did so with a rip, it had torn straight down his spine, provoking a sense of release and protection, like someone had draped a thick blanket on him to stave off the cold of the Anarch’s aura and blunt the cutting edges of Yvonne’s.

Its development should have been the extent of the messages, but there was also a notice about an ongoing integration. He hadn’t had the chance to ponder it in the moment, and did so now.

This was the first he was hearing about that from the Legacy system. There was only one thing he could think of that would provoke such a message—Lumina Eldrassin’s prototype, which he’d absorbed only minutes before falling unconscious after encountering the violet-eyed tier four. He would have expected to get some kind of notification about this earlier, but if it came while he’d been unconscious, he might have missed it.

If he was right, what did it mean for him to be integrating the queen’s prototype? Did that mean the Novice Bearer system would be partially broken until he upgraded it or reached tier four, when the prototype was supposed to be helpful, and presumably integrated naturally?

That seemed unreasonable, but the system didn’t seem to be designed for tier twos like himself.

Rather than wasting precious time speculating, he focused instead on feeling his new aura. He let his mind go blank as he looked down at the world below, the planes of the Elven Lands stretching out, rolling fields of grass and temperate forest.

He could sense something beyond himself, oozing from his back, like someone had cut a slit along his spine, allowing something immaterial to escape. It just sort of enveloped him.

That was when he noticed Welco. The Femera patriarch was staring at him. They were only about a foot apart, Isen’s body secured next to Welco’s, so it wasn’t too surprising the elf had noticed.

“Can you also sense it?” Isen asked.

“Anyone with aura sense will be able to,” Welco said.

“I certainly can,” Emerai interjected. “A tier two with aura—that’s a first.”

“How do I control it?”

“Before we start with that, can you describe how your aura feels to you? Yours is so weak as to be almost indistinct. I can’t discern its nature.”

“It feels clingy,” Isen replied.

“They all tend to stick close to the body in the beginning,” the shadow mage explained. “Part of growing your aura is stretching it out, expanding it beyond yourself. Increasing its area of effect while growing its strength, so it doesn’t lose potency.” He paused. “Is that the only thing you feel from it?”

Isen frowned. “I’m not sure.”

Welco waved a hand. “That’s fine, I was just curious.”

“... So, what should I do now?”

“There are several exercises I perform personally to improve the power and control of my aura,” Welco said. “Given the infantile state of yours, I can recommend only one of them.”

Isen peered at him expectantly.

“Aura kneading. It’s simple, easy to grasp. Let me demonstrate.” Welco came in close, and Isen felt the touch of the man’s shadowed aura on his body. His nascent aura prickled at the contact.

“Is this really the time for an aura lesson?” Emerai interjected. “We’re arriving soon.”

“He’s tier two, completely untrained at using his aura,” Welco argued. “Now that he’s able to manifest it, a bit of training will go a long way toward protecting him against hostile tier threes and fours.”

Emerai’s wings beat in steady rhythm, her strength monstrous to carry them all without strain so far. “I suppose that’s true.”

Welco cleared his throat. “You’re the first I’ve ever instructed in aura control.” His fimbrillate aura grasped Isen’s, pulling a piece of it away from the teen’s skin. It was rubbery, elastic, and there was an odd tension to it, like it would snap back if released. Isen resisted the urge to squirm in discomfort as Welco strung it out.

Then, rather than releasing the piece of Isen’s aura, Welco pushed it back in. The sensation was bizarre, like Welco was trying to cram Isen’s aura beneath the skin. Isen yelped as his own aura sent off a wave of pain.

“Like kneading dough,” Welco added. “Pull the aura out, then push it back in, taking care to compress it against yourself until you feel resistance.” He cocked his head. “In your case, you’ll be learning an aspect of control, as well—how not to hurt yourself. Not that your aura can injure you, not at your current level, but the pain is real.”

Isen tried to do it unassisted, but his aura wasn’t cooperative. He could feel it, but it was like an unresponsive limb. It didn’t listen.

He supposed it made sense—if his aura was infantile and weak, it wouldn’t be strong enough to move as he desired.

“Us drayavin have another way,” Emerai suddenly said. Welco frowned, but didn’t interrupt the woman. “By nature, we are unsuited for finesse. Our auras are almost universally offensive and violent. Often lacking control but making up for it in power.”

Suddenly, Isen could feel Emerai’s aura. It was like how he remembered it, at the gate, when she’d faced down Allezin. Back then, he’d been overwhelmed by their conflicting auras, unable to tell where Emerai’s ended and Allezin’s began. Now he had a much greater sense of what hers specifically felt like.

Emerai’s aura felt bloody and primal, like talons rending a foe and coming away drenched in crimson. Isen didn’t know how an immaterial aura could exude such intense imagery, but it did.

“We learn to focus on what the aura is—taming it rather than controlling it. A common metaphor is, rather than seizing control over a river, we carve new channels into the earth and redirect it. If your aura currently wants to cling to you, focus on reframing what it wants to do, on your terms.”

Isen blinked. He hadn’t expected Emerai to actually give unsolicited advice. “Thank you,” he said.

“The Anarch favors you,” she said. “Think nothing of it.”

Isen considered both tier threes’ guidance. His aura was clingy, as in, it clung to his body, and was difficult to force more than a bit off his skin’s surface, which had seemed necessary for Welco’s exercise.

What if I don’t have to move it away from my skin at all? Isen focused on how his aura unfurled from a metaphysical slit along his spine and wrapped around him. Cling tighter, he thought, closing his eyes. He imagined the aura stretching around him like a pair of leathery wings.

His aura did stretch a bit, but very little. That’s only the first part of the exercise, he reminded himself. He not only needed to expand out his aura, but contract it. His aura stretched out, reaching to its meager fullest, and Isen commanded it to come back. To retract.

Its retreat back into his back was slow, and Isen didn’t feel anything from it. When he expanded his aura out again, nothing seemed any different, not that he’d expected the exercises to produce results on the first time.

Still, he knew something wasn’t right. The sixth sense wasn’t satisfied.

“We’re here,” Welco announced.

Emerai began her descent, plummeting in a way that made Isen’s stomach drop. Vertigo assailed him as she swooped up before hitting the ground, alighting with a twist on the ground.

Welco released his shadow tendrils. Isen stretched his arms out and looked around. They stood before a monolith, a great stone with sigils painted all over it. The paint looked distressed, and very old, but remained clear and unmarred.

“What is this?” Isen asked.

“An old crop guard,” Welco replied, “from back when we still farmed on the surface.” He strode forward, shadowy tendrils shifting around the hem of his dark robes. Emerai followed behind him as he entered an overgrown field. Thin trees and shrubs were the largest plant life present—most of the area was filled with wild vines and flowers.

“Tingly,” Emerai murmured as she passed the invisible threshold.

Welco smiled. “I wondered if it would affect you.”

Her wings stretched out behind her. “I doubt it would even affect tier one monsters in its current state.”

Welco stopped at the center of the field and bent down. When he came back up, a sphere was in hand. Sure enough, one of the prototypes.

It was anticlimactic as Welco tossed it to Emerai, the drayavin catching it effortlessly. She held it in her clawed hands, rotating it slowly. “Like the night sky, trapped in a ball,” she said. Then, she stuffed it into a hidden pocket in her brown shift.

Just then, a dull explosion sounded in the distance. The vines swayed, and several birds shot up from the foliage, startled. Turning back toward the way they’d come, Isen saw dark clouds.

They all watched for a moment. Then, Emerai flapped her wings. “Next.”