Discordant Note | TBATE

Chapter 81: Bandaging Wounds

Toren Daen

Reports from Darrin and Jared regarding their meeting were similarly depressing. The group they'd approached, nicknamed the Aensgar Exiles, had gone from a team of five to three after being overwhelmed by undead. They'd taken refuge in an array of cubicles, walling themselves off from the outside zone. When Darrin had mentioned that others on his team were going to speak with the Twinfrosts, he'd run into an unexpected complication.

According to their leader, they'd been attacked by one of the Twinfrost's members. It had taken significant promises and reassurances to even convince the Exiles to come to the bargaining table.

But in the end, they didn't have a choice. From what Darrin had said, they seemed even worse off than the Twinfrosts. Sleep deprived, starving, and wallowing in their own filth. If they wanted a way out, they didn't have a choice but to accept our offer.

"Do you think it was one of the twins who attacked them?" I asked Sevren, who was walking with me toward the rooftop entrance to the Twinfrost team's hideout. As promised, we returned later in the day to deliver a few bags of rice and bandages.

Sevren was quiet for a moment. "Why do you think they were attacked at all?" he asked in reply. "Considering the story they told, of their mad escape from the hordes of undead, they could have easily misunderstood assisting fire. And the Exiles were reluctant to talk about the attack at all. Only making the claim."

I looked at the steel rooftop access door. That was true: according to Darrin, the Exiles had been deeply rattled by the assault of the undead. When Darrin tried to push them on why they thought they'd been attacked, they gave vague allusions to the hordes, and a flash in the dark...

"Fair enough," I said with a sigh.

"Though," Sevren said, narrowing his eyes, "If they do tell the truth, it would not surprise me if the twins were responsible. Highblood upbringing tends to leave coddled, entitled brats instead of men."

I looked at the Denoir heir, surprised by the venom in his voice. When he noticed my interest, he quickly smoothed out the irritation on his features.

"It wouldn't surprise me either," I said quietly, turning back to the door. I thought of Lawris Joan and his entitled attitude and willingness to subject me to his father's drugs. It was easy to connect the dots of attitude from father to son. "I've had my fair share of experiences with people like them."

Sevren regarded me silently. After a moment, we both flared our mana signatures, mirroring what we had done earlier that day.

Alun opened the door a second later. I watched him visibly shudder as the sky greeted him, the strong-willed ascender retreating beneath the surface in the face of the world. When he spotted us, though, his eyes seemed to gain a bit of their former glow.

He gave the outside another cursory inspection. "You have food?" he said quietly.

Sevren nodded. "We do."

"Come on, then," he said, leaving the door open. We followed slowly.

The office hadn't changed much in the few hours we'd been gone. The same atmosphere of doom pervaded everything. The only light was from the dim, overhead bulb.

This time, however, the twins were pacing about on the far edge of the room. Their mirrored short cuts made them easy to see, their silver-streaked black hair standing out in the dark room. When one noticed us, the other swiftly turned. They had thinly veiled contempt written on their faces.

I didn't know which was Bered and which was Numar. And if I was lucky, I wouldn't have to learn.

"Finally!" one of them said, moving forward. "We've waited for hours!"