Crimson Ascension

The Catalyst District 99 had once been Draven's home, a place that held good memories of the time spent with his family—memories he no longer remembered. The Severer's price had been steep, robbing him of his past, of the people who made it worth remembering. Thinking about it brought him no joy or sadness, only a feeling of deep emptiness.

"Are you ready?" Finn's voice, outside, seeped through the cracks of the house that had once been Draven's home. Now it was merely a house like many others.

"I was waiting for you three," Draven said, exiting the small brick house. Finn stood outside, hands crossed on his chest, Nerovian by his side.

The last Orenn lord looked at the place with wide eyes. "That's our… his… home?" he said slowly as if trying to find the right words.

"It was." Draven nodded. "Now it's just a pile of bricks." Without the people to give it meaning, the Greystone residence was just that.

Nerovian fell silent but continued to inspect the place. My brother's memory… he remembers more than I do. Draven thought about asking the young lord about his brother's name, but that felt too much like unburying the dead. He had paid the price willingly, choosing to abandon his past so the people of the Haven would have a future.

"Where's El? I thought he was coming." Draven frowned. "He asked to come and now he's not here?"

"Trouble in the Districts, apparently. Elevalein is busy being the Lord Commander of the Silver Flame Inquisition." Finn glanced at the distance, then shook his head. "It's not like your stunt made his life any easier."

Draven followed his gaze, finding what the residents of the District had taken to calling the Tunnel. It laid opposite to the Gate, a circular hole in the wall that burrowed into stone, diving deeply into the fabric of the Haven and connecting District 99 to 98, and the ones that followed. Places that had once been estranged, their residents never knowing the existence of their neighbors, now were connected by a tunnel of Draven's own making.

"It bought us time, true. But I wonder how long exactly." Concern mingled in Nerovian's confident voice. "A few months? What can we do once the food runs out? I understand Ascendances do not require nourishment besides hexion, but everyone else will starve."

"I don't know," Draven confessed. "But we need to find out soon. Whatever advantages we can find, we need to use."

Draven walked past Nerovian and Finn, making way through the Catalyst District. It bustled with people, miners and Sovrans alike, both reluctantly working together after what happened to the District's previous Overseer.

Rumors of Draven holding the ceiling over Elysium, staving off its collapse for minutes, had spread like fire on rotten wood. A few were incredulous about the claims, but the voices of those who had seen the Crimson Aegis forming over their heads were difficult to ignore. Miners claimed he was one of their own, while the Sovrans were too wary of provoking his wrath—predictable outcomes. What Draven hadn't anticipated was the emergence of a cult that worshipped him like he was the second coming of the Maker.

"Lord Archon." A Sovran woman, barely in her twenties, fell to one knee as he passed by. Others soon followed.

Draven mustered a nod and suppressed the flow of blood that almost betrayed his embarrassment. What do I do about this? Hatred he could handle, contempt was easy, but adoration? A deep sort of respect that made their eyes shine with hope? That was a challenge he had never faced before.

"Lord Archon," Finn whispered to the side, eyes gleaming with mock adoration. "Please, Lord Archon, can you bless me with your words? Archon protect us!"

"Stop it, Finn!" Draven blurted out, thoroughly embarrassed.

"You must take this seriously, Draven. A lord must inspire confidence in their subjects." Nerovian walked by his side. "It took me the fall of House Orenn to learn that lesson, but you must not make the same mistake."

"That's easier said than done. They aren't my subjects…"

"Yes, they are." Nerovian stopped him with a firm hand on the shoulder. "You have made it that way the moment you passed sentence on a District Overseer. Rumor has it you proclaimed yourself the 'Protector of the Haven.'"

Finn sucked in a breath. "Got carried away a bit, eh? But the lordling is right, Draven. Forget about all this stuff about subject and whatever, you are what's keeping everything from falling apart. Don't forget that."

The Miners he passed didn't bow or kneel; they merely gave strong nods—Draven was one of them, after all. A few overzealous Sovrans had taken offense at the lack of respect shown, but they dared not act or punish. Not after what happened to Overseer Eradorn.

Sovrans in dark steel armor, members of the Magisterium, patrolled the streets. Draven thought about his place in the world that remained as he walked past a few Sovrans and Miners who were demolishing a housing area. Thomen was amongst them, pickaxe in hand, sweat drenching his clothes.

"Ho, Aiden!" He waved as he saw Draven passing by.

"Thom." Draven found he didn't mind being called that name anymore. The people who knew him when he had been Aiden were mostly gone, so it felt right to allow the few that remained to remind him of his origins. "What's all this? I thought we needed more places for people to live, no?"

"What's a house gonna do if people starve to death?" Thomen shook his head. "I spoke with Big Red, and he got me in contact with these Sovrans. Transmuters, or so they say. Apparently, they can change stuff."

"Oh," Nerovian whistled. "Transmuting stone into soil? A clever idea."

Thomen nodded.

"It is not going to work, sadly." Nerovian shook his head. "A transmuter can change the nature of elements. Say, make stone malleable, maybe even break it down enough to allow crops to take root. But stone will still be just stone."

One of the Sovrans looked up, a smile on his face. "That's exactly what I told him. It's not like we have access to dead organic matter to supplement what transmuted stone lacks."

"Why waste the time then?" Nerovian frowned, puzzled.

"The kid is quite smart for a… erm, Miner." The Sovran looked at Draven hesitantly, almost uttering the derogatory term most dared no longer say. "Human feces."

Thomen puffed up his chest proudly. "That's right. Guess what it's made of? Stuff we eat! Some Sovrans didn't like the idea, but it's better than starving to death."

Nerovian's face contorted with disgust for a second, his nose picking up the smell from a few sacks that had been unassumingly laid next to where the three Transmuters focused on breaking down the stone.

"Disgusting and brilliant." Nerovian nodded. "What of the crops?"

It was Finn who replied. "What else but potatoes? It's the only thing you cheap Sovran sent for us to eat."

"Us…" Thomen's eyes widened as he looked at Finn from head to toe. "You were a Miner? I guess that shouldn't surprise me."

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Something else shone in his eyes, the beginning of an idea. He looked at Finn, then shook his head. Draven knew what Thomen was thinking; the idea was all but written all over his face. He wants to become a Sovran, but his parents were both Miners. He's not half-blood.

Draven departed shortly, eager to avoid a conversation about turning Miner into Sovrans. He had more important things to do than crush the hope in Thomen's eyes. Soon, he made way to an unassuming side of the District, a place where Miners no longer went.

The Gloom Caves.

It was the place where Miners had once spent most of their days in meaningless labour to meet elusive quotas for the collection of coal—a draining depth that sapped the strength from those who entered it. Draven had never done so, for only those of age were required to do so. He had once yearned to mine the Gloom Caves and help his mother meet her quota, but now he entered it for a different purpose entirely.

To find the answers no other could.

He looked at Finn and Nerovian and said, "Ready?"

Finn held a lightsphere in his hand, jaw clenched. He produced a barely noticeable nod. Nerovian seemed excited and scared at the same time. Draven wondered how much of his brother's feelings and memories had changed the lord.

The entrance to the Gloom Caves was like a fissure in stone, a crack in the boundaries of the district that stretched into the unknown bowels of the Catalyst Districts. The air quivered slightly as if the wind avoided the place, and the shadows fell the wrong way.

Draven's hair stood on end the moment he stepped inside. It's cold. Colder than normal. The temperature difference was abnormal, the change abrupt. It was no wonder they said the Gloom was a mysterious place—its atmosphere certainly didn't disabuse others of that notion.

"Might be best if you hold a lightsphere, since you are leading…" Nerovian chimed in, hesitant. He, too, had noticed something was off about the Gloom Caves.

"Don't worry about it." Finn shrugged, voice as jovial as always. "He'll be fine."

Darkness didn't hamper his vision, even if the shadows seemed to be denser than normal in the caves. The passage to its depths was square and carved as if someone had taken the time to mold or transmute it. The stone was gray, like the material that enveloped the Catalyst District, yet there were darker spots in it—coal.

The tunnels spread deeper, sloping down. Draven walked on, transfixed. The cold and the shadows were concerning, but he also felt weaker. Every step took more energy than it should, and as he walked, Draven could feel a cold wind slowly draining him.

"Are you two feeling it?" He asked Finn and Nerovian with a look over his shoulder.

"Creepy place." Finn nodded.

"Feeling what?" Nerovian said.

Draven shook his head. "Nothing."

He was not mistaken. The Gloom was draining him—them—but maybe the others were not sensitive enough to its stealthy touch. Deeper into the Caves, past where there were any signs of mining activities, he could feel the effects becoming stronger. His head ached while his body felt sluggish.

"I'm… wait…" Nerovian dropped to his knees. "What's… going on?"

"What's the matter with you?" Finn frowned, helping the Sovran up on his feet. "You don't look…" Finn pointed the lightsphere. "Abyss take me, you look like shit. Why are you so damn pale?"

Nerovian only blinked at him. He looked confused, unaware of where he was, who they were.

"It's this place, Finn. Look at yourself, why are you sweating this much?" Draven extended his Presence to them, probing for any damages to mend, but there wasn't any. "You aren't hurt, not physically, but you look as if you've been running for days."

"You're not wrong. I thought I'd just toughen up, but there's something wrong here, Draves." Finn's face became somber. "I've felt this before once or twice."

"Whenever you face an Evoker," Draven said.

Finn nodded. "That's right. When I fought my father… my limbs felt heavy, and it tired me like this. There's no mistaking it, the Gloom is attacking our souls." He looked at Nerovian. "Poor bastard is only a Median Reverence, that's probably why he's been wrung like a dirty rag."

"I'm going deeper. Take him outside and wait for me." Draven turned and left, diving deeper into the Gloom. Finn didn't argue, for he too understood how serious the situation was without an Evoker to escort them.

I'm sure you felt it too, Aiden. Morph, who had been silent until now, spoke. It's been stronger here, so strong we don't even need Amplification to feel it.

The foreign Presence he could feel whenever he amplified himself now pulsed freely to his senses. Stronger. Closer. Waiting. He could feel the eyes of someone on the back of his neck, watching. Draven gritted his teeth as he walked, pushing through the tiredness, ignoring the sweat that drenched his clothes.

Hours passed in silence, diving into the depths of the Gloom Caves. Draven took a step forward and stumbled, falling to one knee. The Archon of Blood, the strongest remaining Empyrean in all of Haven, fell to his knees, drained. Tenfold Amplification! Draven roared, pushing past the effect of the Gloom, mending his soul while Morph kept a tight hold on the Crimson Aegis protecting it.

Deeper he went. He walked until the Tenfold Amplification was no longer enough to keep him from succumbing to the effects. He walked until not even Twentyfold could keep him from the pulsing headache that made it hard to think.

I don't like this. We should head back. Morph urged him to turn back.

No! I can feel it, Morph. It's close. So… close. Draven gritted his teeth, trying to rise, but his body felt weaker than when he had been a miner. It's… right…

Morph wrestled the control away from his body, congealing strings of blood that pulled Draven back and away from whatever hid behind the next turn. We will never know what's there if we die here.

Let go, Morph! It's right there, you can feel it—

Without Elevalein, we could only push further with the sword. Are you sure you want to use it for this? Morph let the control over his body dissipate.

I…

Draven didn't prevent the string from pulling him back. Morph was right. Without Elevalein, he'd be forced to pay too steep a price, so he let himself be dragged back, focusing on recovering the strength he had lost to the Gloom.

Hours later, he emerged from the caves. Red armour covering the sweat-soaked clothes beneath, blood forced to flow on his face so his pallor didn't show. He was the last pillar between the Haven and complete collapse; he couldn't afford to look weak.

"Lord Archon." Lord Commander Navron, his hair grey at the temples, welcomed him. "It's been a while since we last met, but the tales of your deeds have only grown wilder."

Finn and Nerovian were nowhere to be seen.

"Navron? Please drop the 'Lord Archon', it gets tiring." Draven stood, Hemomorph's Mantle over his body, though he'd kill to lie down and rest. "You were looking for me?"

Navron von Valestria raised an eyebrow at the armour, but chose to say nothing. "Indeed, I have. Your previous request has been fulfilled, Draven. I had never thought there would come a day we would actually do it, but times are dire. The Maker has abandoned us as you said; there is no need to hold loyalty for those who left us to die."

Request? Draven's confusion must have been evident, for Navron barked a laugh and added. "The remnants. Last we met, you asked for those, claiming they could somehow help you prevent what was to come." Navron fell to his knees, face bitter with regret. "I beg your forgiveness, Draven. I was a blind, hard-headed fool, and Elysium suffered from the choice I made. But I will not allow what remains of the Haven to suffer from my mistakes."

"Rise, Navron." Draven shook his head. "You only did your duty; no one can fault you for that. You continue to do so, maintaining peace in the Districts even when some would rather light a fire to burn us all."

"Those who are foolish enough to try, I'll personally execute," Navron said, voice grim. "But my power and authority alone are insufficient. Lord Inquisitor and I have been stretched thin, even with the help of The Blade of Eons."

"Apologies if I don't follow, but what could I possibly do that you can't?" He was not well-versed in politics or the laws of Sovrans, unlike Elevalein and Navron.

Navron rose to his feet, standing proud. "I have power and authority, and I might know the Blooded Decree by heart, but I am not the Archon of Blood. I am not the Protector of the Haven; you are. My words have limited reach while yours spread throughout the entire Haven."

Draven suppressed a groan. He'd much rather get his hands on those remnants, study them to enhance his knowledge and prowess over the runes, but Nerovian's words echoed inside his head like a warning. He could not ignore his duties. He had named himself Protector of the Haven; now he had to show others he meant it.

"Very well, spread the word. Tomorrow at noon, let every Miner, Sovran, and Empyrean come to the Ascension Dais of Catalyst District 99." Draven looked at Torch's general direction. Underneath it was the place where Draven von Astrais had been born. "Tonight, gather all influential people in the Haven, Miner and Sovran alike, so we can discuss what in the Abyss I will be saying to that many people."

Navron barked a laugh at the remark, but saluted. "It shall be done. The Overseer Tower is where the remnants are gathered, so we can have the assembly there."

Draven nodded, then left. Abyss take him; he was tired.