Millie’s Attainment, the Eyes of Fate, activated.

A thread appeared on the Tarot card she’d been examining, thin and translucent. It hovered in the air, and Millie turned to follow where it led, watching as it faded into the wall. It was heading towards the common room. She reached out tentatively, grasping the thread, feeling a brief moment of tactile feedback, before her hand passed through it like a mirage.

“…seriously, the fuck?” She softly cursed, but the thread didn’t respond.

She lifted The Knight of Wands, turning it in her hand, watching the thread come in and out of focus, moving lazily in the air like a piece of web on a breeze. As she contemplated it further, something changed in her perspective suddenly, the thread vanishing entirely. A new one had appeared in its place.

This one was thick and knotted and connected the Tarot Card to the rest of the deck in her sleeves. Its rigidness was such that no amount of movement seemed to oscillate the thread—it shortened or lengthened with her movements but nothing more. She half expected the card to hover in the air if she let go, held aloft by the thread acting like a strange, silken support beam. Even when she pushed against it, her hand was held back as though she pressed on a wall. Once again, however, it was only momentarily, then she phased through.

Jesus Christ, this thing’s tougher than concrete, she thought.

“I…” she frowned. The intense focus on the thread was accompanied by a sense of something in her mind. But its meaning eluded her.

All Attainments are built off of a foundation, she reminded herself. This one is probably like Katelyn’s and is an expansion of my innate magic sense. Something clicked in her mind at that thought.

Her Death Knell vision had taught her many things, and in this case, she knew that a Magi’s innate magical sense could give an array of feedback, growing more useful with skill and experience. Was that what she was feeling now? A stream of information she just didn’t have the understanding to process yet?

Experimentally, she shifted her sight back, focusing once more on the lighter connection she’d first seen on the Tarot card. She was pretty sure it connected the card to Tanya. It was so faint, however, that she could only barely make out its details. If she tried, she could hear the softest hum of vibration from the chord and more sense of something in her mind. She could tell there was nuance to it, but it was also not the same kinds of information the Tarot’s connection to itself had. But again, without context, it was meaningless.

“Damn it, why does this have to be some weird thread thing. What’s this supposed to…” she trailed off suddenly, frowning again. Hadn’t the Weaver said something about a paradigm to the sight?

It doesn’t matter what we call something, or even how we see it, she thought. Truth remains truth no matter what we believe. Can I…see this in a different light? Something that will make more sense to me?

She tried to remember her experience with the Loom. The great machine that churned out Fate, with its grasping arms, spinning gears, and firing pistons. The light, both fuel and product, that became the ‘patterns’ spun in the weave. She thought it would be difficult to see things from that angle, to understand the world in a way that made sense to her.

She was wrong.

There was no thread. There never had been. That had only been the initial expression for the Attainment she was only now beginning to understand. She realized this immediately when she saw now a chain, with etchings in its links, filled with light, forged by that great machine. She could sense the size of the links, the spacing between, the glyphs wrought in the material. And what she found was simple.

This link was terrible. Weak, and fragile, with some strange pull to it she couldn’t yet identify, clearly this paradigm’s version of the strange something in her mind. She also knew, instinctively somehow, that had she the most basic tool or Spell she could probably have severed the connection, for whatever purpose that might serve.

The real question in her mind, however, was what was this connection?

“It shifted when I changed targets…” she mumbled. “Perhaps if I look at other things?” She set down the card and looked around the Study.

The world nearby was strange under the effects of the Eyes of Fate. It wasn’t just the forged links floating in the air, connecting items in the room, or to places beyond—there was an atmosphere present that hadn’t been there before.

The whole room felt like a rundown warehouse with hastily framed walls covering the foundations, but she could still smell the rot and mold beneath. Focusing on the chair Tanya had sat on, she saw oil spots on the seat and the slightest hint of tread marks on the ground where her feet had rested. They were fading, in real-time, peeling off and dissolving. But they were there.

Looking closer, she saw something similar to where Catherine had sat. Shifting her sight, she saw the flakes of the dissolving tire marks feed into chains that appeared, connecting the seats to both the girls. As best as Millie could guess that connection would only last a few minutes at best, as the chains were beginning to degrade as well.

Experimentally, she tried to re-orient her sight back to the original thread paradigm, in hopes of gaining a comparison, but she found it impossible to change back. She realized the problem quickly: she didn’t understand how to look at the world in that way. So, she eventually gave up trying. In the end, she didn’t really need to anyway. She knew enough of what was going on to guess what was happening.

“Holy fuck, I’m psychic now, aren’t I?” She grinned like an idiot as she looked at the room.

She’d seen it in shows before, the strange detective who could touch an object and know who’d interacted with it. The chairs didn’t mean much to the girls, so the connection was limited and fading, but they had just sat in them. Their presence had left its mark, her mind interpreting that in a very mechanic-oriented way. The Eyes of Fate let her see that, which was definitely an improvement over having to touch everything.

Curious, and not yet knowing how long the Attainment would last, Millie shifted her sight to other things. The books on the shelves, for instance, fascinated her. They didn’t just connect back through the portal in the Study (specifically bending to go through the portal rather than trying to point off towards the Academy, she noted), they also had multiple connections. Some actually pointed to the small stockpile of scrap her class had collected, and when Millie focused on the scrap she counted nine links that stood out on each of them.

I…I could probably follow those links, couldn’t I? She suddenly realized. I could track the scraps down and find the other pieces. I could bypass the Collections entirely and focus on navigating the Stacks! All I need is one piece to start with!

Unashamed, Millie felt tears coming to her. Wiping some away, a huge smile on her face, she continued to look around. What else? She thought. What else can I see?

Past the books and the scrap, past the portal which exploded in connections too numerous to understand, her eyes finally landed on Katelyn nearby. The tall woman was a collection of gears and iron plates, covered in glyphs. Wisps of light gently billowed from her, swirling in the air with every steamy breath, but Millie could sense the disturbance in the machine. Something off with the timing and the rhythm of her engine, made worse by rust starting to form on her exterior. She could also hear a light grinding of worn-out gears.

She’s sick, Millie realized, before kicking herself mentally. She was well aware Katelyn was ill—the girl had literally poisoned herself, risking her own life in a desperate attempt to save Millie’s. It’s no wonder I called her his Godmother, Millie thought. I don’t think there's anyone I could say is more worthy of—

Millie paused in her thoughts as she watched a chain come into focus between Katelyn’s sleeping form and herself. Looking at it closer, she saw it split as it got close, linking not just to Millie but to the child in her womb.

Millie hesitated, before smiling brightly as she examined it. She had to wipe away more tears as she gently touched their connection, running hands along the light-etched glyphs. Katelyn had put love into it, something Millie could tangibly sense. It wasn’t love towards Millie, however, nor was it even to her son. It was the love Katelyn must have had for…for the little girl in the vision. The ghost of someone lost. Somehow, she felt it alloyed in their chain.

Millie had to bite her lip to keep from making noise. It was one thing to be told how much someone cared, but it was another altogether to be able to experience it firsthand. The weight of it nearly brought Millie crashing down into a blubbering, emotional mess.

How many times did this make it that Katelyn had saved Millie and her child? All to, what, prevent Millie from having to go through something this woman had experienced? It was only thanks to Millie’s vision from the Loom that she could appreciate what this meant to Katelyn. Why she had tried so hard. It helped her understand just how difficult it must have been for Katelyn to talk to Millie about losing her child. About accepting the impossible.

Millie worried she’d never be able to make this up to the woman. To equal that debt. In the end, she decided it didn’t matter. She didn’t need to make up anything—she just needed to do her best to be there for the woman, like she had for her. No scores, no balancing, no debts. A friend in need is a friend indeed, right? Millie vowed to be just as strong a friend to Katelyn as she had been to her.

Millie’s hand twitched, and she glanced down. A new link had formed in the chain, the whole construct growing thicker suddenly, more vibrant. Looking closer, she could see the literal vow she’d just made now etched into the chain. She had to clasp a hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs, her other hand gripping the chain. It didn’t phase through.

These chains…they’re the connections between things, Millie decided, breathing deeply to calm herself. These are the bonds we forge, in passing or by purpose.

That seemed right to her. The more fleeting the connection, the faster it faded—like the chairs to the people who sat in them. A lingering connection, like gravity between passing objects, breaking when the distance grew too great. But on the other side?

What would the bond between her mother and that rocking chair of hers be? The one that she had rocked Millie to sleep in, that her father had handmade as a gift? The same chair Millie had planned to rock her son to sleep in. How much love was in it? How big would that chain be?

Millie tried to focus on it now, like a desperate prayer to God. She hadn’t expected anything of it, so she was shocked when she actually felt it form. The chain, however, was weak. Not for lack of layering, nor was it fleeting, she didn’t think she could even break it. It was just…the distance, she realized. It was practically a universe away—beyond the boundaries of Magincia, and trying to sense it, or interact with it seemed impossible. A thought crossed her, and she quickly cycled her focus, trying to settle in on something else. Her eyes opened in shock when she felt it snap into place.

A chain to her mother, but also…to her father. He was still alive, that was about all she could make out.

That was enough.

Thank you, God. Thank you…I…

Millie sat quietly, a long while passing as she cried quietly in gratitude, holding her stomach and the child inside. She hadn’t realized just how much that had been weighing on her, and with the shock of her recent brush with death finally fading, and the revelations of the chains sinking in, she stopped fighting and let it all out.

Eventually, she fell silent again, her tears finally at their end. It was a good feeling, though. Relief and catharsis, hand in hand. Hope, rekindled, after its previous death. She no longer needed spite for the city to carry her forward. She could finally breathe.

I’m not done yet, she thought, cleaning her face with a rag nearby. The Attainment was still going. What about something closer?

She pictured CJ in her mind’s eye, waving her hand in the air, brushing at chains that formed but weren’t the ones she was looking for. Finally, a chain faded in, glowing with etched light, rigid as the Tarot deck, and pointing directly to where she knew his lab was. Feeling that connection, both physically and mentally, Millie could even gather a rough distance between them. The bonds were that strong. She was sure if her parents had been closer, their chains likely would’ve been as well.

Then, an idea came to her. A sudden realization of why she’d been given this sight—why it was called the Eyes of Fate. Holding up her Tarot cards, she felt through her magical bond with the deck and activated Lesser Omen. It was still free, much to her relief.

The card she drew was the Three of Pentacles. The very one she’d seen in the Loom.

She smiled, eyes alight with joy. It worked, she elated. It really worked!

The true value of the Eyes of Fate wasn’t just the strange, sideways information it could give her—it was seeing the connections. The…Sympathetic Links, she realized. That was what they were. And with the Attainment, she could target them, using them to carry her Spells. Like say, using a divination Spell on someone in another room, she thought. That wasn’t something she’d been unable to do before.

If I have a connection, or can find one, this means I can use Axiom magic on anyone, anywhere. This is huge, this is—

The Attainment finally ran out.

Millie blinked, staring at the card in her hands before sighing. Checking her Soul Scroll, and the clock on it, as best as she could gauge the Attainment had lasted ten M-minutes. More than long enough for just about any purpose, she imagined, and it was entirely likely she might learn to stretch or prolong the sense.

After all, she was just getting started.

Millie didn’t know how much of her recent vision she was allowed to share, so she’d sucked it up and sent a message to the Fortune-Teller asking for his advice. He forbade her from sharing information on the Weaver; she was allowed to acknowledge her position as her Disciple and admit she saw her, but not much else. He did, however, give her the green light to speak about everything else. What the Loom showed her was for her to do with as she pleased.

“I was…surrounded by wands?” Raj asked skeptically. “Covered with various items?”

Millie nodded, her eyes briefly glancing at the group around her. She’d asked if people wanted this to be private, but no one seemed worried about that. She wondered if they’d think the same when she got to the rather…personal parts.

Millie swallowed heavily. “Yeah, um…one was a gun. An M4, I’m pretty sure. Another a helmet. The military kind.”

Raj raised an eyebrow, his eyes growing distant with memory.

“I also saw…a toy,” she admitted hesitantly. “It was a GI Joe figure. Nearby it was—”

“Stop,” Raj said suddenly. He didn’t look distant anymore. If anything—he looked pained. “Please, I…”

Braylon laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I said some of this could be personal,” she re-iterated. Raj’s scene had been one of the more confusing ones. She’d assumed the items were from his own life—the guns and uniform he’d used, toys he’d played with. But as she watched his expression darkening, hurting, she started to think it might have been something else.

The Nine of Wands speaks of someone being midway through a battle, she thought. Yet now, I’m just more confused than I was.

“Let’s…come back to mine,” he finally said. “Later, in private.”

Millie nodded, the others in the Study with her watching Raj sympathetically. Katelyn was still there, resting in bed, but it was just after their rest period of the fourth M-day. During the last few M-hours, Millie had been practicing with her new magic or taking fitful naps, trying—a bit in vain really—to not completely throw off her recently created sleep schedule.

I wish Mana recovered faster though, she thought glumly. So far she was clocking in at about one Dram per hour, which had hindered her practice given her tiny Mana Pool.

“And the rest of us?” Katelyn asked, drawing Millie’s attention back to the group. She was glad to see the tall woman’s coloration much improved.

“I saw…why you care,” Millie told her, eyes glancing towards Katelyn’s midsection. The tall woman’s eyes widened, her hand instantly shooting to her stomach, squeezing closed tightly. Millie looked away, politely ignoring the sudden wetness in her eyes.

“I saw your parents,” Millie continued, turning towards Braylon. “Their…resting place, at least. And the things you went through because of it.”

A sad smile crossed the big man’s face, and he nodded slowly. There was a bit of guilt to his expression, but no shame. He really had left it behind.

“Not everything was bad,” she added quickly to the group. “I saw that you’ll figure out how to harness soul bits, CJ. I saw Tanya, doing Tanya things, with a little sparrow as a friend.”

“What counts as Tanya things?” CJ teased, turning to the petite blond.

“Knowing Millie?” Tanya said, scowling playfully. “Probably something reckless that involves dressing me up somehow.”

Millie laughed, a few others joining her. “And here I was going to say it meant you were being kind and supportive! The Knight of Wands was your image, which should mean you’re more likely to succeed than you realize. I’m not sure at what, but there you go.”

Tanya looked taken aback before her brow fell; her face turning thoughtful.

“What else?” D’marco jumped in excitedly. “Did you see our siblings? Or parents?”

Millie cocked her head in confusion, looking between the Navarros. “You guys have siblings that aren’t here?”

Isabella shot her brother a quick glare, which he shied away from, before she turned to look Millie in the eyes.

“We have two other siblings,” she said. “One boy, one girl. They’re fourteen and ten, respectively.”

“They’re also alone,” D’marco grumbled. “Unless…”

Isabella shot him another glance and he cut off. “Did you see anything about our families?” She asked Millie. She was clearly being defensive, but Millie just got the sense that she didn’t like sharing private information.

Millie shook her head sadly. “Sorry, no. I saw you on a throne of some kind, as the Queen of Pentacles. I think that means you’ll have success socially and financially in the future, so maybe our Podcasts are going to pay off?”

The beauty nodded appreciatively in thought but said no more. If anything, she just looked glad that was all Millie’s vision showed.

“And me?” D’marco insisted again.

Millie chewed on her lip. “I saw…well, the image looked bad, but its meaning wasn’t the worst. You’re, uh, starting to get overwhelmed with stress, letting your anxiety overwhelm you. Or you will, in the future if you aren’t careful.”

The boy scowled. He looked like he wanted to complain, but he also looked hurt. Vulnerable, before he finally scoffed. “Whatever, it’s…fine.”

Yeah, I’m sure it is, Millie thought skeptically, but she noticed Isabella’s eyes watching her brother more closely.

He does strike me as the class clown type. Those types are always trying to hide how they really feel. She decided to not press the issue any further.

“Catherine…” Millie said, before pausing. The curvy girl perked up at her name.

“What?”

“I…I’m a little worried about your vision,” Millie admitted. The girl’s brow furrowed.

“What did you see?” She asked. “Which Tarot? I’m pretty versed in them.”

Millie raised an eyebrow. “You are?”

“I…” Catherine blushed, glaring briefly at CJ as though knowing he’d call her out if she lied. Then she sighed. “I am. My mother was very religious as you know, but she could also be very…mystic too. She had a Tarot deck she used a lot, as well as other things she used in pursuit of spirituality.”

Probably stuff like astrology and crystals if I had to guess then, Millie translated. It was odd to think of a strict, religious person believing in superstition, but she had to admit that many aspects of the type of Christianity that she’d been raised on drew from the traditions and beliefs of the pagan religions it’d replaced. It wasn’t too surprising if people’s personal beliefs expanded to cover that then.

It also wouldn’t have surprised Millie to simply learn that Catherine’s mother was a hypocrite. The girl hadn’t opened up much about the woman, but the little she’d shared hadn’t been flattering.

“You had the…Ten of Swords,” Millie finally said. “It means—”

“Failure or betrayal,” Catherine interjected, eyes widening. “Ruin, collapse. Goodbyes or breakdowns. Trusting in something that backstabs you. What was the context? Was there any?”

Millie winced. She didn’t like being the bearer of bad news.

“You were…trying to find answers. Religious ones. You didn’t though, and you…kind of yelled at God for forsaking you before you were stabbed. A lot. That part was probably just Tarot imagery though,” she quickly added.

“I…see,” Catherine said quietly, her eyes downcast.

“There was a voice that answered you in the end,” Millie threw in. The girl glanced up, though her features were still downtrodden. “I…don’t really know what it was. A woman of some sort. She sounded kind, but I don’t know if she was trying to help you or…”

“Lead me to that path in the first place?” Catherine guessed.

Millie nodded.

“I’ll…keep it all in mind,” Catherine said. “Thank you for telling me.”

Does she not believe me? Millie thought. Or does she just hope that I can be wrong? She wasn’t sure either way, but she also didn’t feel appropriate pushing it.

“If anyone wants to learn more,” Millie said, briefly glancing at Raj. “Just come by my room later during our next rest-cycle. Until then, do we still want to proceed with the plan?”

“You mean taking you to the Attainment counter?” Katelyn said. They’d all briefly discussed the idea already before talk of Millie’s visions had come up. “Are we sure you’re strong enough to get through the Stack’s trials?”

“Well,” Millie said, “I can hold my Mage Armor now, pretty much indefinitely. It’s uncomfortable, but not painful. And if I can take just one or two of you with me, the trials should be scaled down for a smaller group. It should be doable.”

“When you say uncomfortable,” Raj said, “what exactly do you mean?”

“It feels like I’m sitting at the bottom of a deep pool,” Millie explained. “But I practiced holding it, with my robot watching over me. I did it for a full ten M-minutes without problems.”

Though my robot was fussy and borderline manic the whole time, Millie silently noted. She wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong with the strange metal girl, she’d been off since Millie’s accident, and also seemed disinterested in repeating Movie night. I’ll just have to find another way to teach her the joys of Humanity. Or whatever it is I’m trying to do.

“Just one soul bit did this much…?” CJ said, shaking his head. “And there really weren’t any consequences with its taint?”

“None,” Millie said. “All I got was a vision of the thing trapped in the crystal, but I didn’t make any pacts with it.”

No pacts, Millie thought. Just a single trade. Just a…betrayal of a man who's done worse a dozens times over to me. She was twisting her words here, however, technically lying to her friends. But she promised herself she’d tell them the full truth later. For now, a part of her felt guilty over what she’d done and she didn’t want to confront it yet. She hated that guilt though.

Surely it was her right to bring some measure of justice to that bastard, wasn’t it? He was going to sacrifice their son. But no, that wasn’t the problem. The issue was, what she’d done hadn’t been justice—it was vengeance. A snap decision in the heat of the moment. A trade made more to spite Liam than to help their son. Whatever high ground she may have had against Liam, she’d lost.

Somehow, she felt she could live with that. She just didn’t like knowing she’d sunk to his level, even if just a little.

“I still don’t trust it though,” Millie continued. “But it couldn’t do anything to me without an agreement, so I’m safe for now. I’m sure it's one of the Archmagi of the Arcana too, specifically the Void. I mentioned the Weaver earlier if you remember, though sorry again that I can’t say more. The Fortune-Teller was pretty clear on that.”

“It’s fine,” Raj said. “I’m just glad there’s nothing untoward with this connection. I do wonder, though, if the Attainment Katelyn got you might be helping with your ability to handle magical strain.”

“Oh?” Millie asked. Katelyn looked over, confused.

Raj nodded. “Katelyn said it at the time, but your soul was working hard to protect your son. Now, it has a shield to do so with, so it’s likely a lot easier on your soul. Less to strain over in general.”

Huh, good point. “I guess there’s one way to really find out, right?”

Raj hesitated, before smiling.

“There is,” he said, snuffling his mustache. Then, he looked over the group. “Let’s go help Millie catch up, shall we?”

One by one, the members of her Class stood, ready to join her. She smiled, grateful that after so long, she finally got to feel like part of the team.

She would be a burden no longer.

Meanwhile…

Across the Academy, locked in darkness; a boy wept. He screamed for a salvation that would never come, as his soul withered to dust. I can’t, please. Just let me go. Just let me—

Shhh, she told him. I’ll put something stronger in its place.

And so she did.

Elsewhere…

A woman, clad in gold, collected the lost; binding them to purpose. She hated, and loved, the sins she was committing, spinning lies to sell a hope that none of them would gain, and that none of them had asked for. She was a monster, a champion. A tyrant, and a queen.

But…she couldn’t stop. Not that one, please. Let’s go elsewhere, let’s—

Silence. You shall act in accordance to the Code, child.

And so she did.

And finally…

Drunk with power, a star stumbled through an alley, followed by gilded prisoners, only to find a forgotten wretch. I can use this, yeah? He thought, a cruel smile forming. Let’s just mess with him first. A little taste, to make sure he’s hooked.

“Who the fuck are you, chink?”

The star narrowed his eyes. Oh, he was going to enjoy this very much.