“My first step will be clearing my father’s lands of Titan spawn, to ensure my people can live in peace on our lands,” Shaya said after a moment’s thought, “in a safe environment, I’m sure our duchy, its vassals, and our people will be able to thrive. From there, I can focus on maintaining their security against additional Titan spawn or possible threats from our neighbours.”

“Clearing the lands will take you maybe two or three decades,” Zaal said, holding up a finger, “following that, you just plan on hunting monsters and training troops for about seventy years until the next Titan War is expected? You may lack the blood to be truly immortal, but you’ll still live for a few centuries and that’s a long time to spend with only vague goals...”

“Well,” she said defensively, “it’s not like I’ll be sitting on my hands. My mother advocated peace and unity amongst the Empire, I’d love to pursue that goal as well. Perhaps have Mangdae be a center of trade or of cultural exchange. Host grand tournaments or joint military exercises... mom told me of the days when Kelahk heavy infantry held the line while Zothirian cavalry could trample the enemy underfoot, supported by Sillanir’s mounted and flying archers, Io’s mages and guided by Lythrania’s spies.”

“And where do the Vayeirans fit into your grand army?”

“Someone has to fund the war effort and write fancy stories,” Shaya said, waving a hand dismissively, “they’re famed for their bodyguards, so I guess every ranking member could benefit from that as well. I could see some value in learning from the mercenaries they bring in from outside the Empire as well, it sounds like how wars are fought elsewhere differ greatly from our own.”

“So,” Zaal said, eyes narrowing as he studied her, “you’re suggesting that the Imperial Armies no longer live up to this ideal?”

“They don’t,” Shaya saw the trap and attacked into it anyway, “I’m thankful the Empire knows peace again, but our Archon’s policies are divisive, not unifying. Given how bloody the last War of Succession was, I don’t blame Her for wanting to keep Her potential enemies weaker, but I want us to aim higher. That should keep me busy.”

“Indeed,” Zaal actually sniffed with amusement, “peace is often the most difficult thing to achieve in life, and can only be enforced by the most powerful.”

“Then I guess I have a bit more growing to do,” Shaya said with a glower.

“Perhaps, though your resolve has led to tremendous growth – and has encouraged the same in those around you,” he replied, “have you considered my offer any further? To abandon your fool-hardy esper and bond with one more suited to your intellect?”

Oraeus stiffened as he heard this, as Shaya hadn’t mentioned Zaal’s offer to any of the others. Accepting the offer as it stood would mean dissolving their lance, or at least leaving it without an Amber mage to protect them against massed enemy fire or magical assaults. Oraeus and Ralus would both have to dedicate more time to entropic magic to make it difficult for enemy mages to cast in the first place, and everyone in general would have to learn more defensive spells that their colours could offer.

“I haven’t dismissed it,” she replied evenly, “and I’m happy to commune with espers you think would be a good match, but I’m not sure I want to cut my current bond, since that would reset much of the progress I’ve made to date.”

“Hardly, your ability to learn is what matters most, and you have the mind and grit for that. You will pick up new seeds quickly, and your breath, will, vision, heart and spirit will remain just as strong to fuel your new magic. Furthermore, your ability to think under pressure will always be rewarded by Sapphire aether, while your ability to know when the odds are against you will deny you Amber.

“Your next counterpoint will be: ‘but I’ve achieved much with my esper and it has yet to interfere with me.’ To this, I will counter with: ‘just wait.’ There will soon come a time when the rigidity of your esper will demand you put yourself, your comrades, or your mission at risk for its unrealistic ideals. You may ignore it the first time, the second time, perhaps even the first several times, but eventually it will sever the bond as you’re forced to act in this real, imperfect world – or you will die for its ideals before that happens.”

“Not every Amber mage is Leonix, professor,” Shaya said, forcing herself to include his title to be respectful, “history notes plenty who have lived long lives and died in their beds of old age; or even nephilim who chose to pass on when they grew tired of living.”

“Given your ambitions, capabilities and honesty Shaya,” Zaal’s eyes bore into her, “which fate do you think is more likely for you?”

She glared at him, but didn’t respond.

He turned to Oraeus, “And you? What would you do with power?”

“I just wish to live a simple life,” Oraeus replied, “where I have a family, bring prosperity to my people, and perhaps find the freedom for me – and my people – to pursue their dreams. And hope that makes my father proud.”

“We live in interesting times, Oraeus,” Zaal replied, shaking his head, “do not wish for the unachievable, plan for the inevitable. Such as what you will do if your two goals prove mutually exclusive.

They walked along for a few more minutes in pregnant silence, before Zaal gave them a wave. “This is where we part ways,” he said with a cold smile, “thank you for the company.”

Shaya and Oraeus mumbled their pleasantries to the professor, then walked back to their apartment. The night seemed darker as clouds covered the stars and shrouded much of the moon, but Shaya suspected the anxiety that clung to them was cast there by Zaal’s words.

What was the purpose behind that conversation?

Was it a test? If so, did I pass?

It’s like he wants me to be cold and calculating, yet still appreciates my open honesty and maybe even my compassion for others.

“What an asshole,” Shaya murmured.

“But what if he’s right?” Oraeus asked, an underlying tremor in his usually calm voice.

“Then I guess we have a lot of planning to do, don’t we?”

“You’re just... willing to roll with anything that happens to you, aren’t you?” Oraeus asked, his steps faltering.

“My family and future were taken from me before I was a teenager,” Shaya said, slowing to keep pace with him, “I learned at a young age to focus on what I can control and plan within that framework. Survive where you can, but find room to thrive. Never let expecting the worst colour your perceptions so you can’t see the good around you, as best you can.”

She sighed and shrugged, “My life hasn’t been the best, but it could have been much worse – for me and my brother.”

“I dare say you could use more practice seeing the good around you,” Oraeus said, his mouth twitching into a half-hearted smile, “your early exposure to Azreon – and, if we’re being honest, me – clearly biased you against the nobles here and blinded you to the stratification even within our ranks.”

“You’re not wrong,” she chuckled, “but it started even before you and Azreon. The first Astorian that brought good into my life did so by stirring up enough trouble that I Awakened.”

“Sounds fitting, knowing you.”

“You’re right,” she gave a strained laugh, “I don’t place my faith in the gods or fate, but that chance encounter set a lot of good things in motion for me and my brother. I owe that Astorian a lot, though nothing I do could ever repay her.”

“Oh? Oraeus quirked an eyebrow at her, “She sounds like an interesting person, I’d like to meet someone that impressed you so.”

“Impress is a strong word,” Shaya smiled, thinking back on that day, “she’s kind of an idiot – or at least she was. A victim of the same bullshit Azreon’s probably been fed his entire life... but yeah, you’d probably want to meet her.”

They walked on, the little ember of cheer between them fading. The tension grew until Oraeus finally popped it with his question: “Do you think you’ll take Zaal up on his offer?”

“I’m not sure if his offer is even serious,” she replied, running clawed fingers through her wild mane of hair. She caught herself, thinking she had broken the nervous habit, and took a deep breath to steady herself before continuing, “but I don’t know, Oraeus. I don’t know.”

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I think Zaal is right, you would make a good Sapphire mage.”

“Thanks,” she said, “but I can’t imagine surrendering my current esper – I owe her everything. Almost literally speaking, since she is – was, my mom. Not my birth mom, but whatever.”

“Do you think the debate would be as difficult if Phaedra wasn’t your esper?”

“Maybe,” Shaya shrugged, “if my esper wasn’t trichromatic, didn’t have the wide range of affinities she does, and more, I dunno.”

“I mean just on the emotional level,” Oraeus pressed, “if your esper was just as powerful and flexible, but went by any other name, would you be debating the switch?”

“I... I don’t know, Oraeus,” she lied.

It wasn’t her best lie by a wide margin, but whether he was too caught up in his own thoughts to catch it or just respecting her privacy, Oraeus didn’t press her any further on the topic.