Apricot giggled as she took a break from studying to play with Quill, chasing the gryphlet across the hills in an attempt to catch him. Whenever she neared, he would launch into the air with a gust of wind and reposition himself nimbly. While he couldn’t sustain flight for very long, his aerial agility was growing by the week and made Shaya grin whenever she saw him showing off. He was canny too, using the sudden burst of movement to go where Apricot would have to turn sharply to follow and lose much of her momentum.

A gentle rain fell steadily around them as mist crept across the hills, Storm Breaker barely visible through the weather from where he lay about two hundred yards away. Late autumn brought with it a chill wind, but Shaya and her friends came prepared with cloaks to ward off the rain and cold. Shaya was happy she finally had an excuse to wear her Cinwolf cloak and could swear that its affinity for fire warmed her more than expected. She was also surprised that no one seemed to comment on it, since it was technically very much a weapon.

Especially in her hands, after so many dueling lessons with Oraeus. Time was flying by, but she wasn’t feeling particularly more confident about her chances against Azreon. But it didn’t matter, at least not at that moment.

Shaya sighed with pleasure, enjoying the sounds of her friends playing outside while rain pattered against the ad hoc shelter she had conjured for them. With Auric’s help, she had learned the dome seed and a partial dome of thin, hard light now covered Samorn, Bri and herself while they continued studying. The dome’s opening faced away from the direction of the wind, letting their books sit on the dry ground without pages fluttering away or ink wells being spilled.

“Ready to go again?” She asked Bri, bumping her with a shoulder as they knelt meditating side by side.

“I guess,” Bri sighed, opening bloodshot eyes wearily, “I don’t get how you, Samorn and Apricot can mesh so well together while doing this.”

They turned to kneel across from one another, drawing another simple circle around themselves, then another, smaller circle between them. They clasped hands, forming a circle to link their spirits for the ritual spell they were practicing, and Shaya could see and feel Bri’s tension and frustration with the topic, and didn’t blame her for it. They had been at it for hours and, not only had they made little progress, but most of their attempts also ended in minor amounts of aether burn; whereas her attempts with Samorn or Apricot led to almost immediate success.

“Don’t compare yourself to them,” Shaya assured, “they’re probably the best pure spellcasters in our cohort, so they can adapt readily to whoever is in the ritual with them. You and I will figure it out too, we just need to be patient and synchronize our energies more. I’ll try to speed up my tracing to keep up with you this time.”

“They say Ruby magic is the easiest to pick up,” Bri shook her head with disappointment, “feeling how the rest of you work magic, I think they might be right. Ruby seeds are very quick and easy to trace compared to the stuff we’ve been learning in Conjuration, which is why I haven’t leaned into it much when we’re on deployment.”

Samorn looked up from her notes, stretching her wrists while adding her two coppers: “Simple seeds don’t necessarily make for easy spells, Bri. From what I can sense whenever you cast, the Ruby aether itself takes its toll on you and controlling it – and it’s influence on you – seems to be much harder than what I can sense from the others.”

“That’s true,” Bri nodded, “whenever I link with one of you, the difference in how the aethers feel is...extraordinary. Azurite is so...ephemeral, like it’s barely even there, but trying to get swirling mists into the shape you want it to be seems daunting; and Amber is so stubborn and difficult to work.”

“I noticed the same when linked,” Shaya agreed, “the Ruby aether seems almost...too eager to form the spell and be unleashed.”

“I was surprised when Rea explained that sometimes any aether will do for a spell,” Bri added, “or at least parts of it. Seems like quite the boon to you.”

“Yeah, something I plan to explore more in the future alongside those hybrid spells she mentioned, but let’s stop procrastinating and get back to this. Last try for the day!”

Shaya opened her spirit up to Bri’s, feeling the other woman’s esper ignite like a scouring inferno in her mind. Within the space of their linked spirits, she felt more channels open and felt the Ruby amass there as she added her own Amber to the mix of aether. Synchronizing their breathing like Rea had instructed, the two mages began to trace the circuit together: Shaya increasing her tracing speed to the best of her ability while Bri slowed hers to match.

When she and Krebo had ritually cast a spell mere months ago, she was impressed by the size of the circuit they managed.

But that day Bri and Shaya weren’t casting a simple circuit and amplifying it to ritual proportions.

Rea expected them to be able to cast at least a lesser version of the planar binding seed in less than ten minutes for the final. Unlike the normal seeds they used, planar binding was designed with ritual casting in mind and it was significantly more complex than the usual seed, making it much more difficult to get through while synchronized in speed and precision.

Ten minutes passed, and they were making better progress than usual. After a hundred attempts, they were very good at making it through the first phase of the circuit. Another ten minutes passed and they were over half-way through the spell, passing the record time Samorn and Apricot could cast the spell together. The next ten minutes were grueling, the spell’s circuit growing more complex and forcing Shaya and Bri to slow further and draw on yet more aether to maintain their progress thus far. Every mistake threatened to tip them over the edge, shattering Shaya’s confidence to the point where she could draw no more Amber or enflaming Bri’s frustration until the Ruby could no longer be contained.

Fear of triggering even more aether burn that day persisted for those ten minutes, but they managed to get through it.

Leaving them with ten percent of the circuit to go.

Shaya ignored the physical sensations of beads of sweat running down her face, how clammy Bri’s hands were becoming, and the bone-deep exhaustion of channeling aether without pause for so long. Bri’s frustration was growing, her tracing increasing in speed as the Ruby aether pushed her, leaving Shaya struggling to keep up.

It was a sprint to the finish, the final ten percent of the circuit a challenging gauntlet of precision tracing that neither of them had the energy or patience to work through properly.

But they did it.

The circuit completed between them and they channeled aether into it, bringing the spell to life.

Bri cried out in exultation, startling Samorn and causing her to draw a line straight across the page of her notebook. The giant woman apologized sheepishly as Samorn shot her a look of restrained anger.

“What should we summon?” Bri asked, grinning at Shaya.

“You pick,” Shaya grinned back.

“Cassissim!” Bri invoked, calling forth an angelic messenger that aligned with their aether.

Moments later, within the smaller circle between them, a helmet forged of ancient, worn bronze manifested, sporting a plume of fiery red feathers with ornate filigree sweeping across the antiquated helm. Wings swept back from the sides of the helm, white feathers flapping to keep the angel hovering between the two women. Where a human’s eyes would rest within the helm, two motes of bright light shone, turning to regard Shaya and Bri.

“I senseth the light within thee,” it intoned in a deep baritone, its dialect was Arcadian, but not one Shaya had ever heard before, “but wherefore hast thou brought me here, where I am most vulnerable?”

Unlike the basic summon creature spells they had used during the first half of the semester that simply sculpted a body of aetherplasm for the summoned entity, planar binding brought forward the entity’s true form from the Aetherium.

“Apologies, Cassissim,” Bri said, reining in her excitement and bowing her head respectfully, “we are fledging mages, honing our craft so that we may bring more justice into this world.”

“This is music to mine own ears, child of light,” it intoned, respectful with an underlying hum of annoyance, “but I requesteth: releaseth me if thou hast naught a service for me to perform.”

“Of course, noble Cassissim,” Bri replied, pulling out The Sunspear’s Sanctuary – one of Astoria’s holiest scriptures – while Shaya quickly lit some incense used by the faith, “but may I request knowledge of your name? That we may call upon you in the future when we could use your assistance to do battle against evil?”

The Cassissim were the least of all true angels, the lowest level to gain some level of sapience, and therefore would require the fewest offerings to work with a mage. Shaya was less certain of their chances with this one. Given the style of its helm and its manner of speaking, she suspected it must have been thousands of years old, dating back to the Great Titan War when the Seven first ascended to power.

The angel’s glowing eyes glanced at the offered scripture and incense, then bore into Bri’s eyes followed by Shaya’s. There was a faint hum in the air as it thought the request over, reminiscent of the deep chanting Shaya remembered the few times Phaedra had taken her to church when she was young. She was already preparing platitudes to tell Bri when it rejected her offer, but then it suddenly bobbed its head in agreement.

“Very well,” it intoned, this time within Shaya and Bri’s minds, “thou may calleth me Yodual. I am eager for the hour in which we smiteth evil together.”

“Thank you!” Bri exclaimed, her humble veneer cracking beneath the weight of excitement, “I promise you won’t regret this.”

“I knoweth this child,” it intoned aloud again, “the legacy of Sorathis liveth with thee, and the saint does not chooseth her hosts lightly.”

“You know my esper?” Bri whispered, astonished.

“Forsooth,” it intoned, sounding indignant at the question, “I combated 'longside her before the lady too ascended to the Sunlit Halls of Blessed Astoria. Anon, releaseth me, so I may returneth to mine own heavenly duties.”

“Oh, of course,” Bri said, bowing her head in apology, “be free.”

Shaya followed Bri’s lead and stopped channeling aether into the circuit, canceling the spell. Yodual bobbed once in thanks as the connection was severed, sending its form back into the aetherium. Bri giggled with glee like a child, punching her arms into the air in triumph.

“I can’t believe Rea thinks angels are evil,” she said, “the Cassissim just radiates pure good to me.”

“I don’t think she meant they’re overtly evil,” Shaya explained with a smile, “just that the zeal of angels can also cause some level of harm or destruction. Cassissim tend to just be messengers, so I suspect our friend there probably won’t be able to do too much damage.”

“Whatever,” Bri launched to her feet, “I’m going to go tell Apricot! Maybe we can even summon the same Cassissim when we go on deployment with her lance tomorrow!”

With that, she rushed into the rain where Apricot and Quill were playing fetch. A quick look around the dome suggested that they had returned to relax for some time during the ritual spell, then had gone out to play again. Shaya was looking forward to taking a break herself and join in on the fun, but wanted to take advantage of having Samorn alone.

“Thanks for your advice,” she said, “I don’t remember being this happy in... a very long time. It feels like its all coming together, and that’s even improving my bond to Amber and Jade aether.”

Samorn looked up from her notebook and smiled, “Think nothing of it. I want my friends to be happy, especially when it means they’re also growing stronger as a result.”

The petite woman had finished one book and started another entirely while Shaya and Bri were busy with their ritual spell. Ever since the mid-term rankings, Samorn’s studying had been furious.

“You’re not one to settle for second place, are you?” Shaya asked, looking down at all of Samorn’s notes.

“Few of us are, Shaya,” she replied, shaking her head, “even us high nobles benefit greatly from achieving good grades and building a great reputation at the Academy. It can lead to better positions within the Empire’s bureaucracy, alliances for our families, and, of course, arranged marriages with better, stronger partners.”

“What do you actually want for yourself, Samorn?”

Her friend grew silent, thinking over her answer before speaking in a quiet tone, “I’m a simple person, Shaya. I just want power – the power to make a difference, to protect what I care about, to be free.”

“How...” Shaya murmured, building up her courage, “do you know Azreon?”

“And what makes you think that I do?” Samorn replied, looking at Shaya thoughtfully.

“The way you two look at each other,” she shuddered, “he doesn’t just lust after you, Samorn. There’s more to it than that, he can barely stand your gaze.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Samorn said, laying a hand on Shaya’s arm, “but please do not pry into my affairs, Shaya. I’m more than capable of dealing with them myself.”

“I know,” Shaya replied quickly, “I didn’t mean to imply that you couldn’t... Gods, I don’t think there’s anyone as capable all-around as you here Samorn, but... you know, if you need my help or just want to talk about it, I want to help.

“I mean,” she continued with an awkward grin, “I basically owe you a favour for what you’ve done for me. Feel free to cash it in.”

Samorn’s smile grew faintly as she answered, “Have no fear, my friend, I will.”