The Fractured Tower

Morlin wasn’t exactly surprised to see his son come through the door, but he would have appreciated a bit of manners from the boy. A simple knock to announce his presence and waiting for Morlin to let him in would have gone a long way.

Instead, Yoru found him sitting on a cushioned footstool being worked on by one of the family healers, the woman with the rich, auburn hair that reminded Morlin of his late wife. He thought she might be a cousin from her family of some sort; it wasn’t important enough to follow up on. The only thing that mattered was that she was competent and trustworthy.

“I see climbing has knocked loose all sense of decorum,” he said roughly, mostly in an attempt to hide how much pain he was still in.

“Oh yes, let’s talk about my decorum while you’re sitting in your suite half-naked with a girl a third your age tending to you,” Yoru replied.

“She’s a healer. She’s doing her job, unlike some worthless members of this family.”

“Speaking of jobs, I can’t help but notice some property of mine came up missing recently.”

“Well, son, here’s the thing. When you stop working with me and go solo, your problems end up being just that: yours. I don’t really much care if you got robbed.”

There was no doubt in Morlin’s mind that Yoru was talking about the cabinet. If not for the theft today, he might have gotten away with denying knowing anything about it. Just about anyone would have been willing to kill to get control of such a unique object, after all. There was a city full of powerful climbers to serve as suspects.

“You’re such a creature of habit, Father. I’m sure the second your boys recovered that cabinet, you were gleefully ordering it replaced right back where it once stood and sending for the same enchanter to get to work immediately.”

Never let it be said that I produce stupid offspring, Morlin thought wryly. Out loud, he told the healer, “Leave us. We’ll finish up later.”

Neither man spoke until the door closed behind the woman. Morlin stood up and shrugged his robe back on. It was enchanted to be stronger than steel, but, as the day’s events had reminded him, that was a woefully insufficient defense against a powerful climber.

“Now, you have some accusations to make,” Morlin said, turning to face his son squarely.

“Is my enchanter still alive?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I found the blood they missed cleaning up at the scene. Your operators are getting careless.”

Rather than answer, Morlin took a moment to truly look at Yoru. In many ways, he liked what he saw. Yoru was powerful now; very few people could claim to have reached rank 23, and certainly none of them at such a young age. Pride welled up in Morlin’s chest.

It was tainted with the slightest tinge of anxiety. Morlin had already survived a fight today. The burglars had been terrifyingly competent. He was not in any way recovered and ready for another round, and he was surprised to find that, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t actually sure he could defeat his son. Even if he’d been fresh and fully equipped for battle, he still might lose.

No. He might be a Telpike, but he was basically carried up through the ranks. He can’t actually be as strong as me. Hell, he probably doesn’t have any more anima built up than a rank 15, not as fast as he’s been going.

Filled with renewed confidence, Morlin strode across his parlor to stand squarely in front of Yoru. “Boy, I can see that you’ve grown, and no one can deny that you’ve put in a tremendous amount of work. But until you’re ready to come home properly, you’ve got no right to come into my house and act this way.”

Yoru didn’t say anything to that. He just stared, one eyebrow raised in a smug, cocksure manner that was strangely infuriating. The silence stretched on, each second stacking on top of the previous, until the tension between them started to build.

“If that’s it, you may leave,” Morlin said.

The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, blearily looking up at the ceiling as Yoru’s shadow fell over him. His son squatted down and pressed a knee onto his chest. “Wha—” Morlin started to say.

“It’s embarrassing that this seems to be the only way to get through to you,” Yoru said. “I understood why Sorin had to do it. He was an outsider and a lower rank than you. You didn’t understand how strong he was, and you didn’t respect him. I thought you’d have more respect for me.”

Morlin’s ribs creaked from the pressure, something that should have been impossible. His physical augmentations were strong enough to take a swing from a minotaur without flinching, and he knew Yoru had specialized in magical offense. That pack of F and E-rank soulprints he’d taken from the armory barely put him on the level of the average rank 5.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

This is impossible. It’s got to be some sort of trick.

“I know you stole the Enchanter’s Cabinet. I even know who stole it from you. Don’t worry, Father. I’ll go retrieve it. You won’t be seeing it again, though. Consider that a courtesy as the man who sired me.”

Anima welled up in Morlin and surged out in a burst of fire that rose to scorch the ceiling. It was instinctive, a response to danger that came so quickly Morlin didn’t even consciously consider it. Only after a second had passed did he realize that he’d just tried to kill his own son. He panicked and cut off the flow of anima to end the spell, praying that he wasn’t too late. The healer wouldn’t be far. He could get help.

It’s not too late. Hold on, Yoru. God, just hold on.

That was about the time a fist connected with the side of his head and knocked him right back onto his back. Yoru stood over him, not even so much as singed. There wasn’t a hair out of place. His coat was pristine. Somehow, he’d dodged the inferno.

Morlin blinked up at him, his ears ringing and his brain unable to put it all together. The only part he latched onto was the sad, pitying expression on Yoru’s face, and then it was gone, replaced by a neutral mask that gave away nothing of his thoughts.

The flames dimmed and then vanished, revealing a spiraling pattern of soot and softly glowing embers where Morlin had burnt through the wood paneling. I didn’t do that. Did...?

But when he raised his head to ask, Yoru was gone. Morlin let his head fall back down and stared up at the destruction he had wrought in silence. A few minutes later, a knock at the door brought him back out of his own head.

“Master Telpike?” the auburn-haired healer called out. “Master Yoru said to come finish attending to you. May I come in?”

Morlin choked down the sob that threatened to force its way up from his chest and slowly climbed to his feet. No one could see him in this state. It would ruin him. He cleared his throat once, then said, “One moment.”

Only once he was ready did he call the healer back in. She noticed the fire damage immediately, but she was a smart girl. She said nothing about it. If she looked up a few more times during the healing session, neither of them mentioned it, and she left the moment she was finished.

* * *

Yoru was surprised to find the house full of a few extra people when he got back. He’d gone over his estimated hour by a bit, but it certainly hadn’t been long enough to organize a party. Yet Azlo and his not-quite-twin brother Heldigar were both there, the latter all the way up to rank 9 now. An older couple was sitting beside Odric’s bed while Rue hovered over them—obviously their parents. And Nemari sat at the table with a woman twice her age, quietly discussing some manner of family business.

Only Sorin was by himself, which wasn’t terribly surprising. If the man had any family, he’d never mentioned them. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. He could have the biggest family in the tower, and they’d all be in a different one. God, different towers. I still almost can’t believe it.

Instead of socializing, he was sitting off by himself in a corner, eyes closed and with a small, black rock cupped in his hand. Whatever he was doing wasn’t immediately obvious to Yoru, but he assumed it had something to do with anima because Rue kept shooting looks at him. The fact that the rock was obviously a soulprint helped sell the theory in Yoru’s mind.

“Holy crap, you weren’t kidding!” Heldigar shouted, slapping Azlo on the shoulder and gesturing to Yoru. “We were rank 1 together! How’d you get so far ahead of me?”

“Hard work and unfortunate circumstances,” Yoru said dryly. “What’s going on?”

“Sorin said we might as well take care of any business we had, since we’d likely be here the rest of the day,” Azlo explained. “Nemari had some family stuff to do, and it kind of turned into everyone’s family. Almost everyone’s, I mean.”

I’m glad they’re all having a better reunion than I did. At least none of them appear to have tried to murder one another.

“It’s good to see you again. You’re making impressive progress,” Yoru said.

“Hah! Not compared to you guys. It’s insane.”

“I wouldn’t compare yourself to me if I were you. You know I had access to advantages you don’t.”

Heldigar shrugged. “Sure, I get that. Even then, it’s still insanely impressive. Can’t lie and pretend I’m not in awe of you all.”

Azlo threw an arm around Heldigar and dragged him back a step. “Come on now. Enough of that. I don’t need you giving these guys big egos when I’ve still got to work with them.”

The two brothers immediately fell into friendly sibling bickering, which Yoru took as his opportunity to exit the conversation. He approached Sorin, who acknowledged him with a grunt. Yoru waited as patiently as he could, and a few seconds later, Sorin opened his eyes.

“Still trying to duplicate Samael’s experiments in soulprint modification,” he explained. “Did you get what you needed from your visit home?”

“Something like that,” Yoru said. “Let’s step outside for a moment. I’ve got a few things to tell you that I suspect you’ll want to act on immediately.”

That was all it took. Those few sentences were somehow enough for Sorin to put all the pieces together. He’d probably already figured it out and had just been waiting for confirmation. Or maybe he watched the whole thing happen through Observer. That is a seriously scary and invasive sensory soulprint.

“Ah. Is our enchanter alright?”

“Father wasn’t cooperative. I couldn’t find out much.”

“I could pay him a visit,” Sorin suggested, his voice like ice.

“I’d prefer you didn’t. I’m not ready to take over the family quite yet.” But even as he said that, he couldn’t help but think of that wild vortex of flames that his father had tried to tag him with. That would have easily killed the Yoru of six months ago.

Did he really try to murder me? Is that why he looked so scared after? Your regret wouldn’t have brought me back, Father.

“If we need to deal with him again, promise you’ll let me handle things.”

“If that’s what you want,” Sorin replied. The rock vanished, sucked into dimensional storage, and Sorin stood from the chair. “Shall we go pay the Black Hellions another visit and reclaim our missing property?”

“I’ve got another stop in mind first,” Yoru said.

“Something more important?”

“I’ve got an idea who did the smash and grab on the cabinet. I’d like to discuss the matter with them.”

A feral grin split Sorin’s lips. Even though it wasn’t directed at him, Yoru still had to fight back a shudder. I can’t believe I thought he was a machine just an hour ago.