Conversation roared in the echoing confines of the Horse Halls. Great lines spilled out from the round desk where six workers processed person after person, group after group, for the upcoming trial. It’d been a long taxing day.

Theo felt weird being around so many people again. Now that he manifested his talent, it felt like he saw another layer down in both society and in people themselves. Flares of red flashed in sprinkles throughout the crowd wherever someone had a talent of their own. He shivered at the pandemonium of so many hearts beating, so many lungs wheezing, so much everything all around him.

He knew their bodies better than they did themselves.

Like, he knew that the brunette woman ahead of their group that was sharing a story with her companion, was newly pregnant. He felt the miniscule baby inside of her. He felt something inside of someone behind him that felt… wrong. Growths sprouted like tiny mushrooms all over inside their abdomen.

It was like all of his life he’d been blind and now he felt the people around him to such a sharp degree that it was overwhelming.

“You need to quell your talent. Let it fade.” Vemon whispered beside Theo as he clasped his hand on his shoulder. “Your nimbus got too bright for a moment.”

“Sorry.” Theo muttered as he focused on his breathing until the awareness of others faded, but didn’t disappear. It would never do that. It wasn’t like Modran’s ever stopped outright. She’d be truly dead then. No, talents were permanent. They weren’t like how skills supposedly were.

“You’ll need to come with us to make an oath to an [Arbiter] afterwards too. Then you’ll be free to do as you please.” Vemon reassured him again.

“As long as I help in the races.”

“Yes.”

“If he can even learn how to heal someone else by then,” Dorian scoffed as Hespa chortled. “He tried the entire ride here and still couldn’t.”

“How long did it take you to use your talent outwardly?” Vemon asked with a raised brow.

“Not too long.” Dorian smiled as his nimbus formed around him.

Theo’s skeleton almost leaped out of his skin as an immeasurable terror slammed into him. He was in unfathomable danger, he wrenched at his talent and… and it stopped. He frowned as the sense of doom dissipated into nothingness. Only faint traces of it remained with no sense of actual fear.

“By the fucking wastes and Treassi, stop being a cock.” Vemon snapped as he slapped Dorian on the side of the head. He only laughed as he pointed at Theo who still reeled at his display.

“I could use my talent on others almost immediately.” Isidora shrugged as if it were a given that she wasn’t a rube that needed to be held by the hand to learn.

“Well, it took me months.” Vemon sighed as he turned back to Theo. “Do your best. If you can’t heal others by then, we’ll have you act as our shield. Otherwise, we’ll keep you in the center so you can keep us and the horses going strong.”

Theo nodded even as he frowned at the disparity.

Risk his life or be protected.

It all depended on whether or not his talent was actually useful to anyone but himself.

He frowned at the realization that Modran had been able to drain the life out of things almost as soon as she died and came back. Practically the very first time, even if it had been an unwitting disaster.

“Next!”

The line shambled forward.

What was so different for him?

He could sense other people’s bodies and what ailed them rather intimately, but that was it. His talent refused to pass beyond him to anyone else, but he could heal himself just fine. Either it’d automatically heal or he could guide the red light of his talent to what he wanted to be healed.

He still felt pretty bad for what he’d done to Oliver. Theo felt pretty torn about whether it was right or not. Since he ‘joined’ them and Oliver was still a kid, it was wrong. But if he’d been jumped by Vemon and the others, wouldn’t he have been vindicated?

Thoughts like that continued to barrage him. It wasn’t like he could talk to Oliver again, the boy had left the moment they reached Aethel. Vemon’s talent had helped, but not really. Apparently, he could reinforce himself and others, or weaken them with as much precision as necessary. So he’d enhanced Oliver’s rate of healing, but that hadn’t done too much for his concussion and broken teeth. Theo had offered to heal him if he could figure his talent out, but he’d only received silence in return.

Theo thought about his talent front to back.

It had manifested when he’d been gravely injured and now that he’d really thought about it, he was pretty sure he always healed faster than everyone else in his family. When he was a kid still learning how to ride and be around horses, he’d fallen out of the saddle really hard and had been convinced he’d dislocated or broken his shoulder.

Aunt Sharia, Uncle Elias and Dad had all freaked out. They’d all heard the harsh, guttural crack of bone bending in ways it shouldn’t have and had insisted he’d need weeks, if not months of rest.

But he didn’t.

He’d healed in about a week instead and everyone just assumed it had been a fluke. A bad bruise instead of a break or even a sprain. Now that he thought back, he recalled similar instances happening again and again. But was that really the truth of his talent? Or was it a symptom of it?

Theo lowered himself into the meditative state that Sevra had taught him to use a month ago until he could feel the space where his talent stemmed from. He drew the smallest of drops free and willed it into his left hand.

He felt the tendons flex around the twenty-seven distinct bones in his hand. Veins and capillaries that whooshed with his blood. More muscles than he ever really imagined in his hand, about thirty to his count. He watched them contort and relax as he squeezed his hand into a fist again and again and how they played from the forearm down.

How could he sense all of this if he weren’t injured and his talent was healing? The drop should’ve been long used up, but now the entire weight of his awareness had been focused to his hand. Perhaps healing really was just a significant result of his talent rather than the entirety of it.

He strung his the drop of his talent out as he focused it—

“Next!”

Dorian shoved Theo forward as they stepped up to the counter at last.

“Congratulations on reaching Aethel in time for the deadline. You are hereby qualified to participate in the horsePage trials. Are you all enlisting as a group?”

They all nodded.

“Excellent. Please say each of your names and your closest town of relevance.”

“Vemon from Longtree in the Dontosi Chalice.”

“Dorian. Apple Grove.”

“I’m Hespa and I came from Shadwick.”

“Hello, my name is Isidora and I came from Fremr.”

“Theodran. Also Fremr.” Theo sighed distantly as he watched the drop of red light continue to swirl around his hand. He wondered what’d happen if he hurt his hand right now versus somewhere else on his body. Would his talent automatically heal somewhere else first or his hand? Could he move his hand using his talent only, after all, he was technically ‘moving’ parts of his body in order to heal it.

“Now, just to clarify, enlisting as a group does not in fact mean that you all will win or lose if someone in your group does. It only entitles you all to start near each other and to make sure you have the same race route and destination. Understood?”

Theo nodded along with the others even though he desperately wanted to ask what she meant by destination, but he also didn’t want to hold up the line anymore either. The amount of people had only grown since they’d entered the Horse Halls, and they’d been there for practically the whole day already.

“You’re all set to go. Good luck!”

Vemon led the way out of the crowded Halls. A task that was made much easier than it would be otherwise with the man’s impressive height. Before too long they exited the Halls entirely and were in the Lordship Square.

A grand fountain stood in the center of the square with four plinths standing at its four points with statues representing the different kinds of Lordships in Aethel. A majestic white marble stallion with streams of water spouting from its muzzle. A pair of white and black marble statues had stone blades locked in an eternal clash, water trickled from a pair of wounds on their bodies. Gold and silver webbed a marble set of scales that swayed back and forth as water filled the basins of the scales to waterfall below. Finally, there was a giant stack of books in a tiered tower.

“We’ll head to the Logic Halls to have an [Arbiter] take our oaths and confirm our agreements then we’re all free to go.” Vemon smiled at the four of them as they idled awkwardly under the sunset sky.

“Theodran! There you are!” Modran’s voice shouted as she threw herself free from one of the benches to rush towards them, before she slowed to stare at Isidora with heavy suspicion. “I’m glad to see you made it alright after you disappeared yesterday.”

“Sorry to worry you.” Theo said awkwardly as the others focused on the pale visage of his sister. She eyed each of them with a growing degree of distrust until she turned back to Theo. “I got caught up, but it’s all good now.”

“Did you? Interesting. If you’ll all pardon me, me and my brother have some things to discuss.” Modran reached out to grab his hand, but he pulled back to frown at her. He might’ve been pushed into a corner with this arrangement, but they were his greatest shot of success, even if Isidora still had some misgivings about his presence.

“I’ll find you later at grandfather’s clinic. We’re not done yet here.” Theo said as he gestured for them to follow him towards the stately building with rows of pillars holding the rectangular roof of the Logic Halls. His back prickled as he felt Modran’s glare settle even more firmly upon him.

They still had business with an [Arbiter] and he didn’t want to lose out on his chance.

*

*

*

Modran couldn’t believe that Theo had turned her aside like that. Ever since he woke up and healed, he’d been cold and distant. He’d hardly raged or anything, he only ate and drank what she gave him mechanically like one of those clockwork devices a trader had shown everyone once when they’d been knee high children.

Theo hadn’t mentioned Nightfire or anything. He’d just left and said he’d be back or he’d meet her in Aethel.

At first she’d been overjoyed at his manifestation, but now she was frightened. Had this been what it was like for him when she’d come back to life the first time?

Theo was starting to change, and she didn’t know if she liked the person he was becoming. She turned to glance hopelessly at the figures of Alanna and Sevra who she’d spoken with earlier in the day, but they’d parted after a bit so they could cover more ground in case Theo or Isidora had shown up. Now they were back.

Sevra waved Modran over.

“Why would they show up together?” Alanna frowned. “And why would they all head to Logic?”

“Hm.” Sevra hummed noncommittally.

“Did they have some kind of legal dispute?” Alanna asked again, but Modran ignored her in order to regard her mother. A slight shimmer of red draped around her. Modran wondered if the woman was using any skills or an archetype, she couldn’t wait until her birthday so she could see more of what happened around her.

“I’m not sure, daughter. But everyone in that group had a talent, I’m assuming they’re acting as a party for the races.”

“An alliance? Why would Isidora allow Theo to join her? Does she know what his talent is? Do you know what his talent is, Modran? Mother?”

“It’s rude to—” Modran started, before Alanna cut her off.

“We’re past that. Isidora collects strays and would gladly carve him up unless he were useful to her. What. Is. His. Talent?”

“Something to do with healing.” Modran murmured as she looked away. Irritation sparked through her. She felt wrong telling these people anything that personal, but he did hope to marry her someday.

“Healing? How do you mean? What happened out there?” Alanna grabbed Modran’s hands so hard that she winced at the sharp pain of the woman’s vice-like fingers.

“He had the absolute shit beaten out of him and had been left for dead when I found him and managed to stabilize him until the rest of the caravan came. He had been unconscious for about six to eight hours before he healed himself. Then he left to chase them down. Now he’s here with them.”

“How did you stabilize him? What is your talent?” Alanna scoffed as she glanced up and down the dusty length of Modran’s clothes and the way they hung on her body. With the large numbers of people around, she never really had a chance to absorb any life to top her off. If she wasn’t careful the illnesses would start soon. .

“Daughter.” Sevra warned Alanna who blanched at the severe tone.

“Apologies.”

“Regardless, we have reservations for dinner. We’ll wait to take Isidora, but you should probably head to wherever you’re staying before it gets too dark. We’re lodging at the Restful Roost, come find us tomorrow and I’ll help you and your brother with your talents. You both need it.”

Modran shoved the spike of fear down and turned to blink at Sevra in gratitude. The night of the Pageship Festivals, Sevra had offered to tutor Modran in the use of her talent, but she hadn’t taken her up on the offer. Now she wondered if she should accept, she’d tried to experiment with her talent and it’d been beyond fruitless so far. It was part of why her life was so dim. She could usually last at least a couple of months without draining anything, but it’d only been a month, yet she might barely have two weeks at this point.

“Thank you, I’ll take you up on that.” She smiled as she left them. She sighed as the stress of the journey plagued her once again. It had been impossibly difficult just twiddling her thumbs on the wagon train while Theo trounced around in the woods and apparently made friends. She’d tried sewing some things to sell, but she’d given up after awhile. She was convinced her talent was the best option available for her to get enough chips to win.

She’d tried to find some way to maybe become a ghost herself or see what else could do, but she’d failed. Instead, she’d torn open the veil that had kept her from being bombarded with visions of ghosts.

Now they were everywhere.

Men, women, children. Animals. Trees and plants. Bugs. She couldn’t just squash her talent either to avoid seeing them. Her talent was what kept her alive. If she snuffed it out then she’d die instantly. If she drew too deeply on it, she’d basically shorten her life, but live more powerfully. It was what allowed her to be stronger, faster, and have better senses and all of that.

As it was now, they were simple apparitions of red light that drifted in and out of her sight.

Mom was the brightest out of them all. She wore a garland of the flowers that Modran had accidentally killed in the woods when Garret and her had confronted Theo about his plans to leave for the Pageship. A familiar dog walked at her heels that had sent Modran into a sobbing fit when she’d first seen them last night. Basically, everything she’d ever drained for life, stood out the clearest to her.

Haunted her.

“Okay mom, how do I get to grandfather’s clinic.” Modran whispered with barely a breath so she wasn’t audible to anyone but her ghosts. Her talent flexed as red vapor swirled out with her breath.

Mom beamed as she waved for Modran to follow her down the confusing warren of street after street. She walked with the navigation of a local, even though she'd died almost twenty years ago. Only a few weeks left until her and Theo’s birthday.

Modran hoped that grandpa would be nice. She’d never met him due to the precariousness of her talent. Theo had though since he could always travel without turning anyone to a pile of ash and dust. It was ironic that she’d never been able to live, even though she hadn’t been allowed to die either.

She tightened her fists into the folds of her skirts as she plowed on.