Orrin Foster looked out at the golden fields as their family’s landcraft trundled along the road to Faron’s Crossing. The landcraft, stripped down to its basics, was a wood and metal box with six wooden wheels driven by solar panels and their uncle’s Animus. The metal framing was etched with runescript and, even though he had seen it hundreds of times, it never failed to evoke a feeling of awe at how such a delicate thing was enough to move the landcraft and protect it from the elements.

His twin brother, Braden, was looking out to the opposite side of the road, bored. Uncle Colin was driving, his hands glowing softly now and then as he channelled his Animus into the vehicle.

The twins were the only children of age from the village of Cierra nearly twenty-five leagues southeast of the town, and they were headed there to attend the training camp. The camp would be held at the Watchtower, one of the Artefacts that kept the plane of Rumiga strong against the tides of Chaos, and every child of age for leagues around Faron’s Crossing would be attending.

The sun had barely risen over the Zarek Mountains when they left Cierra Village and Orrin hadn’t slept well the previous night. Braden, on the other hand, had slept like a log, Orrin thought as he suppressed a yawn.

“Hey,” Braden nudged him just as he was about to fall asleep, “what do you think it's like there?”

“Do you mean Faron’s Crossing or the Watchtower?”

“The town, of course.” Braden rolled his eyes.

“Should be a nice place.” Orrin shrugged. “Even the Haveenians visit there regularly.”

“I heard that there’s an actual Knight-Captain living there.”

He could feel Braden’s excitement and even Orrin had to admit he wanted to see one. Knights were plenty in the Empire, even their village had a couple. Freshly Awakened children like them were Novices but it didn’t take long to move up to Apprentice as long as their Animus capacity reached at least one hundred lumens. Becoming a Knight was more about mastering their Heritage enough to either strengthen their Facet or access a new one.

Advancing beyond Knight was much harder and there were only about one Knight-Captain for every ten thousand Knights, Orrin knew. At least according to Might of the Empire, a Study on Atavism and Animus by Historian Barbara Zarubin. Orrin loved reading those, as well as fiction. In contrast, Braden rarely touched books and preferred the more physical things in life.

Thus, although they were identical twins, the difference in their physiques was enough to tell them apart. Both had blonde hair that just brushed the nape of their necks, baby blue eyes, and oval faces. Braden had tanned skin, while Orrin’s was paler.

“Knight-Captain Davar, the Guardian of the West,” Uncle Colin said with an amused smile. “A very unassuming man.”

“You know him personally, Unc?” Braden grabbed the back of the driver’s seat and leaned forward.

“I’ve met him. Mere acquaintances.”

“Oh.”

Braden leaned back on his seat before he leaned over to Orrin and whispered, “Do you think there are pretty girls in Faron’s Crossing?”

Orrin shrugged. “Probably.” There were too few kids their age in Cierra.

Braden gave his twin a wide grin while he rubbed his palms together. Orrin rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that Orrin was uninterested, he just didn’t think mooning after teenaged girls would help them progress to become Knights.

Soon, the road led them over a small hill that gave way to a view of the town. The twins beheld Faron’s Crossing for the first time in their lives, and Orrin was, frankly, a bit disappointed.

Sure, the town was bigger than Cierra, but they had also been to Haveena City, and Faron’s Crossing was overshadowed by the city’s grandeur. The town stretched out over a few longstrides wide. The main avenues were clearly visible, undulating across town, sometimes cutting through small hills instead of going around them.

Their landcraft headed to a part of town separated from the main area by the river. Here, the streets were straight and looked more like a grid. They drove up to a three-storey building that had a flat roof like every other home in the town.

The Homestead Inn had a charming red-brick facade. Uncle Colin drove around the block to get to the inn’s garage and, from there, he grabbed their luggage.

“I’ll bring you boys to the Temple and School later to register,” Colin said, “Let’s check-in first.”

Half an hour later, the boys had dumped their luggage in their room; Uncle Colin had his own. The three met at the lobby and walked out of the inn, heading to a shed to wait for the Circuit Tram.

“Why aren’t we taking the landcraft?” Orrin asked as they boarded the vehicle.

“We could have, but you need to learn your way across town. I’m not going to be here to ferry you around.”

“The camp’s still in a week, why are we early?” Braden asked.

Orrin had asked Uncle Colin before but the man hadn’t answered.

“I have some business here,” Uncle Colin admitted. “It’ll be for a few days. I don’t want to have to go back all the way to Cierra to pick you two up.”

Uncle Colin dropped three copper marks into the still beside the driver, “The Temple.”

The elderly man who was in the driver’s seat waved them to some empty spots behind him. Orrin and Bradon sat together while Unc sat across the aisle. After a few moments, the tram trundled off. It made a small circuit around this side of the river, making a stop at a couple more inns, and at a place Orrin thought to be an open marketplace before they made their way to the bridge.

A watch post with a young man in a militia uniform, green forceweave jacket, a green beret, and armed with a Plasma Lancet, a side-blade, and an expanding spear, stood inside. The militiaman nodded at the driver who gave a languid wave in response before the tram got on the bridge.

The river was a couple of hundred paces wide, as far as Orrin could reckon. The difference between the town proper and where they came from was readily apparent as soon as they landed on the other side.

For one thing, the other side, the Foreign Quarter did not have any residences but was full of warehouses, a few inns, and some market stalls. The docks were unoccupied save for an empty barge.

On this side, houses were enclosed by gardens and yards, sporting waist-high stone fences to denote property lines. The houses all had flat roofs, just like every building in the empire. There were more pedestrians, and because it was mid-morning, there were a fair few of them on the sidewalk. Braden nudged Orrin and pointed at a couple of girls, older than the two of them probably, strolling down the lane.

“Well, you’re right,” Orrin murmured, “there are pretty girls here.”

Braden grinned and waved at the two young ladies, both with shoulder-length brown hair. They looked at the twins and giggled but that was the extent of it.

Eventually, the tram pulled up at a shed in the huge square, the town centre. The Temple stood out as the tallest building and it had been visible as far as several blocks away.

The grand entrance was closed, but the side entry to the offices was indicated by a signpost. Just past the entrance was a lobby, with a bored-looking receptionist reading a pocketbook.

“Good morning,” Uncle Colin greeted. “I’m here to register my nephews: their Heritages and for the camp.”

“Good morning,” the woman answered without looking. She placed a couple of forms in front of her. “Fill these up please.”

“Thank you.”

Colin gave each of the twins a form and left the lobby. Orrin filled out his name, residence, parents’ names and Heritages, as well as his own. He signed on at the bottom and pressed his thumb on the runic pattern at the bottom. It lit up as it drew in a bit of his Animus for a few seconds before the light faded away. In place of the original rune, a different one appeared that felt somewhat like Orrin’s Anima.

He finished before his brother, whose penmanship looked a lot like chicken scratches as compared to his smooth cursive. “At least write legibly,” he muttered.

“Hmph.”

Despite that, there wasn’t a noticeable change in his penmanship. The receptionist barely glanced at the forms before she gave each of them a receipt.

“Present that on the 14th Day of Fire at the training hall.”

Recognizing a dismissal, Orrin turned to leave but Braden piped in, “Pardon me, do you know how many will attend this year?”

“Twelve from Faron’s Crossing, one from Sonsa, two from Northwold, and two from Cierra.” She added, “Nine boys, eight girls.” The receptionist glanced up at Braden with a smirk, “You want a beauty ranking for the girls, too?”

“No, thank you, I prefer my own judgement,” Braden grinned while Orrin groaned.

“Good for you,” the woman laughed. “Now, shoo.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

Braden nudged Orrin, who had his face covered with his hands, and they left the lobby. They found Uncle Colin smoking a pipe under a tree, looking lost in his thoughts. He puffed contentedly for a while until he noticed them approaching. He extinguished his pipe with a gesture that trailed Animus light from his fingertips.

“Let’s have an early lunch first.”

Braden’s stomach grumbled and, hearing that, Orrin suddenly felt hunger pangs too. Breakfast had been hours away, even earlier than usual.

Unc led them across a few blocks, absently staring at the pedestrians. The place they ate at was more of a tavern than anything else. The Wandering Woman served a lunch platter of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and fresh lavan berries, with ale that was to die for. Or so Uncle Colin said anyway since the twins weren’t allowed alcoholic beverages yet.

Four silver pennies paid for their meal, two for the food and another two for the two mugs of ale Unc guzzled down. He was looking distinctly red-faced when they wandered out a couple of hours later.

“Right, to the School!” He yelled enthusiastically while Braden and Orrin supported him on either side. “I’m feeling fine now, boys. You can let go. No really, I’m fine,” he insisted, all that while walking crosswise.

They made it to a waiting shed and subsequently boarded a Circuit Tram to the Prep School, where the training hall was supposed to be. Too preoccupied with their uncle, Braden didn’t notice a couple of pretty young ladies who boarded the tram a couple of stops after they did. Orrin noticed though, One had midnight black hair and was shorter than her companion whose hair was more on the side of blue than purely black. They sat a couple of seats in front and Orrin couldn’t help but eavesdrop on their conversation.

“More training, really,” the taller one complained.

“All for our future, Mills.”

“Ugh, it’s so tiring.”

“Don’t be lazy. Didn’t you want to continue your education in Rumiga City? It's your chance to create those connections with people after all.”

“Yes, but it's so monotonous. Every day we haven’t done anything other than practise that one technique Musclehead taught us. Is it even part of the criteria to pass?”

“More of a necessary skill to survive, I’d think. You’d know if you’d come to more than a couple of sessions the past week. Armsmaster pretty much implied we’d be taking trips to the Shallows.”

“What!”

Orrin’s heart thundered in his chest. He hadn’t realized the camp would involve something as dangerous as that. But a worm of excitement squirmed in his heart too. He read as much as he could about the Tidelands.

The Chaos Sea washed against the boundaries of the planes but if he would compare it to regular seas, most of the boundaries were akin to high cliffs with treacherous depths underneath. The Tidelands was more like a beach that gradually went deeper.

“You heard that?” Orrin asked Braden from across the aisle, though he tried to keep his voice low.

“Hmm?”

“Those girls over there, they were talking about the training camp.”

Braden gave the two gossiping girls a measuring look but since he could only see the backs of their heads over their seats, there wasn’t much for him to judge. Unfortunately, by this time the two had moved on to different topics though the taller one, Mills, still complained now and then about Musclehead.

Uncle Colin leaned against the headrest and he seemed to be dozing.

“What were they talking about? Ah, such nice voices.”

Orrin tried to inform his twin, but from the look on his face, he was barely listening to Orrin. Oh well. Soon, they arrived at the School, which they only recognised thanks to the girls who Orrin watched stepping out into the shed, still talking animatedly.

“Wait!” Orrin yelled at the driver while Braden shook their uncle awake. “Sorry, Uncle fell asleep.”

“No worries, lad. Enjoy your camp.”

Uncle Colin groggily made his way to the sidewalk while the twins made sure he didn’t fall on his face. Unc already had a broken nose; there was no need to make it more twisted.

He could only imagine what the campus looked like during the regular term. Today, only students their age walked in twos and threes, all heading in the same direction. Orrin spotted Mills and the other girl entering the structure near the main building. The training hall, he presumed.

At the school’s registrar, they filled out more forms, had their likenesses taken by a jade and metal contraption, and eventually given their identification cards.

“It’s a gold mark for each child,” the woman manning the booth said to Uncle Colin, who nodded and fished out the coins from his wallet.

Orrin almost choked on his spit when he realized that it cost them two thousand Sovereigns to enter Faron’s Crossing’s training camp.

There was the choice of forgoing, of course, but Uncle Colin and their parents agreed to invest in the camp. Not only would they learn much-needed skills, but it also came with a recommendation for their entry into one of Rumiga City’s Imperial Academies. Provided they passed, of course.

“You boys can join the extra learning courses that will run until the 14th. It starts from an hour after noon until the evening bell. They’re mostly held in the training hall,” she said after handing their IDs over. “There’s a session beginning in a few minutes.”

“Go on, boys,” Unc said. “You know the way back to the inn?”

Orrin nodded while Braden looked lost, as he usually was.

“See you at dinner then,” Unc waved goodbye and left.

“Er, what do the learning courses cover?” Orrin asked the woman.

“Animus techniques and basic martial arts.”

The twins glanced at each other. Orrin could see the excitement in Braden’s baby blue eyes.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The two of them made their way around the main building and headed to the training hall. There were a few kids walking down the path, a couple of boys and a girl on her own. They looked at Orrin and Braden curiously, seeing as they were new in town.

“Hello!” Braden waved.

One of them, a black-haired boy with sun-bronzed skin who was a little bit taller than the twins glanced back and nodded. The other boy, brown-haired kid and the same height as Orrin, said, “Hello. New in town?”

“That’s right, we’re joining the training camp,” Braden answered brightly.

“Huh,” the boy shrugged, “welcome, I guess.”

“I’m Braden, this is Orrin.”

“Zeyn.”

Braden looked expectantly at the other boy as they strolled down the path.

“Heron.”

“Nice to meet you,” Orrin said.

“Sure,” Heron grunted. He nodded towards the hall, “Joining today?”

“Yes, well, we’d like to see what makes this training camp valuable,” Orrin said.

Heron looked at either twin from top to bottom, “You’ve inlaid?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Then I guess, you’ll learn a lot here.”

Zeyn chuckled under his breath but it was loud enough that Heron glared at the smaller boy.

“What?” he growled.

“Strong words from someone who keeps getting beat by a girl who hasn’t inlaid yet.”

Heron reddened but he only muttered indistinct words under his breath as he looked away.

“Oh, what’s that about,” Braden said in a mock whisper but Orrin was sure he saw Heron’s ears twitch in annoyance.

“Hee hee,” Zeyn snickered. “Heron here keeps challenging her to get her to notice him.”

“No, I don’t!” Heron spluttered.

“Oh?” Orrin hummed.

“Strong and pretty, I suppose?” Braden said.

“Huh, you’ll see.”

Inside the hall, several more groups of kids chattering in groups of two or three stood around the space. Orrin noticed Heron sweeping the crowd with his eyes but he didn’t seem to find who he was looking for. There were about three girls already inside. Orrin recognized Mills and her friend talking with another girl who also had black hair and who already had feminine curves.

Heron and Zeyn dropped their duffel bags in a corner and they started stretching. Orrin noticed that everyone was in loose, comfortable clothing, while the twins were in their dusty travel clothes.

Braden started stretching too, while Orrin observed, looking at the cliques the Faronians had formed. The girls pretty much stayed together while Heron and Zeyn mingled with the other boys. There was a boy who seemed to have chosen to stand apart from the others but Orrin couldn’t figure out why. The busty girl soon approached the boy who was alone and prodded him, so Orrin supposed they were friends.

The doors opened and Orrin noticed everyone pausing to look, which he figured it must signal the arrival of their instructor. Funnily, Braden turned to look in the same direction and he immediately froze, his eyes wide and his jaw dropping down like a fool.

Orrin turned and found himself he frozen stiff as well, his mind sputtering to a halt when he beheld her. There was no doubt she was the one Zeyn was referring to earlier.

“I think I’m in love,” He muttered, only to realize that Braden had said the exact same thing but in a voice that seemed loud in the sudden silence.

The girl that took his breath away, a golden-haired goddess who looked like she had descended from the heavens, gave both of them a sidelong glance but otherwise ignored them as she seemed to glide across the wooden floorboards to the busty girl and lonely boy. Her smile practically lit up the room.

Braden nudged Orrin and said, “I guess that gold mark is well worth it.”

Orrin could only nod mutely.