Teirn: a person without occupation whose rank is only circumstantial. Unless you are absolutely certain this is the individual’s true position, in nearly all situations it is best to simply use Eirn, even if that may impart more respect than is due. It is unconscionably rude to address anyone of higher position as such.

-Etiquette for Children, third edition

After Metako ended on such a high note, I was optimistic heading into Raysh. Sure, I had the imminent threat of Pelys showing up in two days for another training session, but on the other hand I still had two days until then. Two days of not even worrying about trying to find Desten Metako, two days of not being the center of attention, two days of just sitting in Desten 3’s latest apartment talking about the fate of the world.

All in all, a relaxing and enjoyable prospect.

There would be a reverse game the second day, which I decided to attend. I hadn’t particularly cared for sporting events in my past life, but after seeing Metako’s power artists and their incredible creation, I was eager to see what other constructive uses this power could be put to.

For too long, my impression of power had been coloured by the violence and fear of my initial exposure. Sure, it could also be used to fly and protect one from insects and cold, but such mundane uses didn’t have the same impact as talk of war and death and incursions and potential destruction of houses over city disputes. And Pel’s idea of training didn’t help anything.

Maybe a nice relaxing day spent in observing a popular pastime would help further diversify my mental associations away from violence.

Desten declined to join me, opting to stay home and focus on his research project instead. I made my way to the arena without difficulty. Raysh seemed to be quite proud of their ryshglide arena, and it was clearly labeled and brightly lit with a full spectral rainbow. Though naturally the rainbow was more heavily tinted in pinks and blues to match their house colours.

I was surprised to find the arena itself was a maze of hundreds of shifting walls that slowly rose or fell, moved from side to side, or rotated in place. Any individual wall would be easy enough to anticipate, but with all of them moving at once it became nearly impossible to predict. Every few seconds, one of the walls changed its behavior, switching from one type of movement to another.

It made for a fascinating tableau. I could have watched it for hours.

But this was just the arena. The actual game took place within its shifting depths, where five players from each team tried to force dozens of floating discs either upward toward the ceiling or down to the floor.

Each disc changed colour the moment it touched the team’s designated surface and became impossible to move for that team. One strategy was to clump multiple discs together and keep them all near enough to each other that you could defend them, though that also meant if you lost control of the point or the walls shifted unfavorably you also had more to lose. Another strategy involved trying to push the discs into the most inaccessible places without actually claiming them, so they could be redirected quickly if necessary; a disc on the floor or ceiling could only be moved by the opposing team, but a floating disc could be pushed by anyone.

It was … surprisingly exciting, actually. The level of control exhibited by the players was astonishing. The floor and ceiling were about two stories apart, giving enough room for people to fly safely above and below each other, and plenty of space for fighting over the discs.

The constant awareness of the way the walls around them were shifting, the constant clashes of light, brief sharp attacks that I knew would go right through a basic shield. No one bothered with solidifying their auras, and I could see why Pelys said they were next to useless. It was like a ball of glass; useful to a point, but fragile and vulnerable.

There was an intermission midway through the match, and I stood to stretch my legs. It was then I noticed a familiar face over a Varon formal robe. Desten 5? He was walking toward the food stands, looking as unimpressed with the world as ever. What was he doing in Raysh?

I made my way toward him, curious.

“Desten?” I called, and he looked up.

“Oh, eirn Astesh. Hi.”

“No need for titles, just Astesh is fine. I didn’t know you were touring this year.”

He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. “Yeah, not my idea. I’m just along to look after Tali. My mom’s convinced she can find—” he trailed off into an unintelligible mumble, but I thought I caught the words ‘fix Dad’.

I decided not to press the issue. “So she’d rather have you attending an expensive worldwide tour than at home?”

He shrugged. “Tali loves Ryshglide. But I think Mom wanted us to get out of the house. I’m just the designated escort.” Then he grinned, just a little. “But it is pretty exciting.”

We reached the nearest food cart and he loaded up two plates, then nodded to me, standing a bit awkwardly as though unsure of the social convention here.

“I’ll let you get back to it. Nice seeing you.”

“Yeah, uh. You too.” He nodded and headed back to his seat. I noticed his sister sitting there, bouncing impatiently before jumping up to grab her plate from him. He shook his head and shoved her out of his place so he could sit.

I couldn’t help worrying about them a little. Sure, Desten 5 was old enough to handle things, but he shouldn’t have to. It was a lot of pressure to put on someone at that age. I wasn’t sure I’d have held up in such a circumstance.

The game continued a few minutes later, with the ceiling team claiming the advantage and holding it for nearly the entire duration. Then, in the last ten minutes, two members of the floor team ran a surprise raid far behind the main conflict over a horde of eight discs and started quietly picking off those left undefended. It ended up in a tie, which was broken by resetting the arena and sending the teams after a single disc, first point decisive.

Ceiling ended up winning in the end, but it was far closer than anyone had anticipated. The crowd was buzzing with interest as we dispersed for the night.

No one was talking about Leetan, all attention on the game, and I slipped away without being noticed. It felt good.

Pel showed up on schedule as usual. I didn’t manage the disruption pulse, no matter what he tried. He kept trying, until it was well past midnight and I felt like I was about to die. Or maybe already had. Or at least wanted to.

“Keep practicing. You need to learn this. If you can’t get it by next time, I’ll stop going easy on you.”

I didn’t have the energy to curse him, but I thought it.

Were his healing constructs getting less effective? Or was I just ending each session even more battered than before?

“Oh, he was here! Not five days ago. He said he was married, can you believe it?”

“No way. Desten Varon? Settled down? I’ll believe that when I see it.”

I stopped sharply and glanced over. This was our third night in Raysh, my first attending the evening social events, and I’d been trying to keep a low profile and assess whether I was truly safe from the rumors that had hounded me after Leetan.

“That’s what I said, but he all but ignored everyone all week! It was all Trancy this and Trancy that. Ugh. The ungrateful! Do you know how many people he’s disappointed?”

“Well, you must admit, he couldn’t possibly satisfy everyone.”

“But Trancy? She’s so dull. I’ve never heard such an uninspired conversationalist in all my days. Ugh. I’m glad he’s touring abridged so I only had to see his stupid face once this year.”

“I am disappointed. I was hoping it was something more interesting than simply marrying.”

“Oh, it is. But come, if I’m to speak of it I definitely need a drink first.”

The way they were talking, it had to be either Desten 2 or Desten 6. They both had that sort of reputation. I’d have to check the verdis schedule, since I knew that’s where Desten 2 would be. But, no. Raysh was prepping for a verdis game next week, so it couldn’t have been 2.

The elusive Desten 6 had been here. Touring abridged. Where were they going next? Could I perhaps skip out on Teshron to go hunt him down? I had to tell Pelys when I sent tonight’s letter.

I tried to find more, but most people were talking about the upcoming reverse game, and the exciting ending of the first. I took the risk of asking around more, since there were plenty of reverse circuit attendees who might not have heard about my Leetan incident.

Abridged would be in Leetan next. I couldn’t help an internal flinch at the name. But if I wanted to find Desten 6, that’s where I had to go. I’d need to talk to Pel and Desten 3 about transport and lodging. I still had no money to my name.

I really should get a job or something, but most positions in the nobility were either inherited or apprenticed. As an outsider with no training or real connections, Astesh could count on no such pre-ordained position being available. Many times a particular family would hold full control over a particular industry for generations without any outsiders ever being involved.

I would always be an outsider, by every definition of the word. Unless I made some political marriage? Ugh. I had no interest in any such relationship, let alone for such a banal reason as money.

No, better to continue being a leech on Desten and Pelys than sell my future away entirely. I could repay Desten 3 eventually, and Pelys didn’t seem the type to keep track of debts. And the way I saw it, he owed me for the misery he insisted on putting me through every week.

As soon as we returned home, I penned a quick missive to Pelys explaining what I’d heard and asking for his help financing my returning to Leetan.

Pel wrote back the next morning that he would be overjoyed to help. He just happened to have friends in Leetan. He could get me a place very local, and a guide to the Abridged tour’s events. He included a map.

He also said that this proximity meant we could meet in person more frequently. Wouldn’t that be convenient?

I barely resisted the temptation to destroy his letter in a fit of pique, and read on.

By the way, Aneeyha confirmed that her brother did have pink power, same as her. Wasn’t that interesting?

Well, at least that was one more Desten off the list.

When I told Desten 3 my plan, he seemed more relieved than anything. I couldn’t help but notice he didn’t ask when I’d return. I wondered if he had decided my dubious assistance wasn’t worth the embarrassment of being seen with me anymore.

It was fine. I didn’t need him anyway. Now that I had Pel and Vess and Let and Lan, it would probably be best to avoid entangling myself further with one of our suspects. Not that I really believed it could be him.

I left the last Raysh event early and started flying north. Abridged was conveniently taking place in the southernmost Leetan city, which I could reach in about two and a half hours of flight. Without the need to overburden myself with heavy winter gear against the wind, I even managed the trip with only one rest and without straining my power beyond its limits.

This time I brought food, as well. Lots of it. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. I’d begun to realize that my increased appetite was tied directly to my power usage: the more I pulled on my power, the hungrier I’d be thereafter. Not sure why it happened, but no one commented on it and nobles seemed to simply consume food at a far more regular rate than we did downcity. Fact of life, accept it and move on.

So I found myself back in Leetan, mere weeks after I fled. Though not at the same city, thankfully.

Hillmount was situated by the edge of the same sprawling forest that covered most of the center of the continent, about a two-week journey from Midpeak by horse, or three hours by air. I shook my head as I remembered the amount of time I’d spent traveling from city to city in my old life, the amount of wasted effort that would be completely unnecessary to a noble.

Hmm. That was a thought. Did I have to make my money from jobs within the nobility? I knew that some nobles interacted with commoners, at least in major cities. I personally had avoided them like the plague, even before my fateful run-in with Fylen’s childstone, but not everyone did.

Could I act as some sort of air courier? If I could deliver messages and parcels within hours instead of weeks, surely that would be enough to finance a sustainable existence. It would be unconventional, and I may attract attention by doing so, but at this point I’d rather given up on remaining unnoticed. I wouldn’t try to make a spectacle of myself intentionally, but if what Desten implied about my lack of social graces was true, I was already noticeable whether I wanted to be or not.

Well, that was all a problem for another time. For now, it was time to find Desten 6.