“Congratulations, Nuri!” Ezio greets me with a bow as he creaks open the door to his office in the Silaraon City Academy. “Your first Threshold is an incredible achievement! Well done, my young friend. Not everyone has the persistence to see things through.”

“Is it normal to feel faster?” I ask with a chuckle, returning Ezio’z bow and then bounding into his office, slipping past him before the door closes. I take in the room at a glance, admiring the new red carpet he’s installed.

“Yes, improving your physical capabilities is a common experience when passing the first Threshold. You’ll find that there are other benefits, as well,” Ezio says with an air of affected mysteriousness.

“Oh?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Is that why I’m more aware of the gradations of light and shadow on the walls? Before, I would have just seen the sunlight coming through the window, but now it has depth and character I never noticed. I’m also able to more clearly recall the shape and decor of the room from my previous visits. So, mentally, I’ve received some sort of . . . boost?”

Ezio ushers me toward his upholstered sitting chairs. He flourishes his robes as he takes the seat opposite me, winking and tapping his temple with a long finger. “Got it in one, Nuri. You know what this means, of course.”

I shake my head, bewildered. “Apparently my mental boost only goes so far. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Your body and soul have undergone fundamental changes. Why, the only responsible thing to do is to establish a new baseline,” Ezio says slyly, grinning at me with a touch of mirth and madness.

My stomach flops in sudden fear as a terrible premonition grips me. “Not the mana-control test again! I’ll do anything to get out of that—even if it means going back into the Rift.”

“Ah, Nuri, don’t overreact! We can put it off for another time if you can’t handle a little adversity,” Ezio says, his eyes dancing with merriment at my sudden discomfort.

I give him a flat look, leaning back in the comfy, overstuffed chair with my arms crossed over my chest. “I can’t tell if you’re teasing me, or if you genuinely want to see the new numbers. They can’t be that different since last time.”

“A bit of both,” Ezio admits. He straightens his robes, folds his hands in his lap, and hums softly. “Your scores surprised me last time, Nuri. You were further along than you realize. I don’t usually administer tests to pre-Threshold individuals, but your numbers were solidly above the few I’ve seen. Most people make a jump after finally reaching their tenth level, but a rare handful show more improvement than others. Some of them were already on the cusp of advancing, so their metrics barely change at all despite their obvious upgrades in Class, Skills, and physical and mental characteristics.

“You’re a fascinating case to me. You probably should have leveled years ago, given how much potential you’d accumulated, but you bottlenecked instead. It’s baffling, but it let you gather more mana and build a stronger foundation than your peers—contrary to almost all the published literature on the topic, which claims that stalling out will cause you to languish and will likely diminish your future potential. Studying your progression is a fairly unexpected opportunity for me to deepen my own understanding of how the advancement process works.”

“So, I’m just a lab rat to you? The truth comes out!” I say in mock accusing tones as I parse his words, grinning at Ezio so he knows it’s just my particular brand of teasing at play.

“Don’t think you’re special. Everyone’s a lab rat to a [Scholar],” Ezio shoots back, and we share a chuckle.

“Very well, we’ll postpone. Why don’t you tell me about the Class Skill you got, instead?” Ezio suggests, a feverish light flickering in his eyes. All his previous levity is gone, subsumed into the calculating, manic stare of the august [Scholar Nonpareil] of Silaraon who knows he has a mesmerizing new research subject to analyze.

I sit up straighter, no longer slouching in the comfortable chair. Pride swells my chest as I repeat the words I’ve lovingly memorized. “My new Skill is called [The Eternal Glass Forge: Extended Reach]. It’s the best glass-related Skill I’ve ever heard of, other than my [Architect of Unseen Worlds] Skill line, but that’s still incomplete and has applications outside of glassmaking. This Skill is entirely specialized to me and my upgraded Class.”

I break off, grinning as I tell him about my favorite part. “Based on my testing with the Skill so far, I’m able to produce a small batch of ready-to-work glass each day without needing to supply any of the base constituents. And I can do it at a distance.”

“Remarkable!” Ezio says. He shakes his head slowly, a note of childlike wonder filling his voice. “I assume the drawback is that the distance is somewhat limited? Have you tested the range? Can you conjure something up beyond line of sight, or must you see your intended target to activate the Skill?”

I lean forward, matching my teacher’s pose, caught up in the excitement that flows from Ezio in palpable waves. “Unfortunately, it only seems to work within a short radius—perhaps about half a dozen paces. Beyond that, I feel like I’m slamming face first into a wall at a dead sprint. No amount of flaring my mana or trying to overload the Skill has any effect whatsoever. Well, other than pain,” I say with a grimace.

Ezio winces sympathetically. “Nonetheless, that’s a powerful skill. You realize this sets you on the creator path, yes?”

“I’m not sure what that means,” I admit. “Is it unique to [Artisans] and crafters?”

Ezio strokes his chin, momentarily lost in his own little world while he searches for the right words to explain what he is talking about. “Creators are crafters capable of conjuring up the material or medium with which they work. That sort of Skillset is rare and highly prized, not only within Densmore, but also by our surrounding nations. Given the limitations of the Skill’s rank, and your fledgling abilities with mana manipulation, you most likely won’t be classified as a true creator until your second Threshold. Even so, it’s an incredibly powerful and versatile Skill. Well done! I can’t wait to see it in action.”

“Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “I already used it this morning before I came to visit you. I was so excited that I completely forgot how long it takes to recharge.”

“All good, my boy,” Ezio says, marking down notes on one of his ever-present notepads. He hums to himself while he writes, his hands blurring as he records his thoughts with a speed that’s only possible when fueled by a Skill. “My academic curiosity hasn’t managed to kill me yet, although you’re certainly putting my theory to the test that being a [Scholar] isn’t hazardous to one’s health! You do manage to try my patience rather frequently.”

“Never fear. We’ll arrange a time for you to test and take measurements,” I say, and Ezio seems pleased with the peace offering.

A sly smile crosses his face. “You do know what we can test, however, don’t you?”

I groan, burying my head in my hands. “You’re not going to give up on that, are you? You won’t let me leave this office until you make me do another mana-control test.”

“I won’t make you do anything, Nuri, but I genuinely think it’s to your benefit that we reestablish your baseline now that you’ve passed the first Threshold. Does it help me to have the numbers in hand? Absolutely! But mutual benefit isn’t a bad thing at all. Besides, aren’t you curious?”

Despite my usual instincts for self-preservation, I have to admit that I am curious. How have I changed? Have I truly grown since our last test? I feel stronger and more in control of my mana and my Skills, but I don’t know if it’s a quantitative change or simply a measure of comfort and familiarity on my part. An empirical test result is a good way to check my own impressions of myself. It’s easy to lie internally when I want to try to make myself feel better about my progress. Conversely, when I’m in a rut or an emotional lull, the temptation is to deride my progress. I often feel like I haven’t improved at all. The mana control test will have a moderating effect on both highs and lows.

I sigh in resignation, caught between horror and curiosity, but my naturally inquisitive nature soon wins out. I nod at Ezio. “All right, let’s get this over with.” In the end, there’s no way around the pain, so I might as well embrace the test and all of its capacities, good and bad.

Ezio leans back, reaching behind his desk, and produces the test with a flourish and a grin worthy of an evil overlord. “Ready to behold how far you have yet to go?”

“You didn’t even have to fetch the test. You were that sure I’d go along?” I ask.

“We’re more alike than you realize, my young friend. You can’t resist knowledge, even if it’s a painful road to tread. That’s something I admire about you,” Ezio replies.

I stare at the Mana control test, a strange mixture of anticipation and dread swirling inside me. I’m not looking forward to the pain of foreign mana scouring my pathways, but the challenge excites me in a way that’s hard to explain. I’m no longer the scared, insecure young man who wandered into Ezio’s office with a giant chip on my shoulder. I’ve learned, grown, and made friends who have helped me along the way. Determination to prove that their investment in me wasn’t misplaced burns like fire in my chest.

I approach the twin metal orbs with a grim set to my jaw. My body knows what’s coming, and there’s an instinctual fight or flight response. My teeth ache from squeezing together so tightly, but I can’t seem to help the nervous reaction. I’m breathing shallowly, inhaling through my nose in short, rapid burts, as I fight to master my fear.

Placing my hands on either side of the control orbs, I begin the test abruptly, before I can second-guess myself. I draw mana from the reservoir orb and cycle it through my body as fast as I can, resolved to finish in record time. It burns like dumping etching acid on a glass plate, but I push onward, feeding the mana into the receptacle on the far side of the reservoir.

The longer I draw on the mana, the worse the pain. It hits me in a jolt of energy like a lightning bolt from clear skies; my forearms spasm, tightening on the metal orbs until I’m almost certain I can hear them creaking under the force of my grip. Have I gotten that much stronger since passing the first Threshold? Maybe all the time I spent soaking my soul and body in mana throughout the day is finally bearing fruit.

I push the errant thought away, focusing entirely on the test at hand. By sheer force of will, I guide the mana freely through my body, gritting my teeth and trying to maintain its purity. Not letting my own mana influence or change the unaspected test energy is more difficult than I remember—perhaps due to my deeper pool and higher quality Skills?

The pain pushes any further thoughts away. I growl and forge ahead, my eyes shut as I fight off the dizziness, but I can still see thanks to my mana Skill. I’ve kept [Manasight] running at a low level, not willing to risk contaminating the test by flaring too much of my own mana to power the skill. Nonetheless, I’m able to see enough of what’s happening in my own channels to actively avoid adulterating the unaspected test mana with my own energy sources as best as I can.

The two mana types mingle together like a dye poured into water, but I strain to keep them apart, as pure and separate as possible so that my test results will impress Ezio. I wish the two forms of mana were as phobic as oil and water, but even if they were, circulating them both through my core and my channels would probably have an emulsifying effect. There’s no way to circumvent the cross-contamination, at least not at my level.

I strain onward, ignoring the burn as I seek improvement. It’s not as bad as I remember from the first time, although I’m still fighting the urge to throw up all over the new red carpet, and it’s certainly still not what I would ever willingly seek out if not for the test results at the end. I grit my teeth, renewing my commitment. I set myself to the task at hand, and I’m not about to give up anytime soon. I will see this through. No matter the cost.

And just like that, the last of the mana is siphoned through the test apparatus, coursing in a spiral through my body. I deposit the mana into the other side of the test, gasping for air as the test finishes. I release the mana-control test orbs and step back, my limbs quivering like gelatin on a plate.

“Hey, not so bad that time,” I croak, forcing out the words around a shaky smile.

“Incredible resilience,” Ezio says. He sits down next to me, still scribing away in his notebook, and regards me for a moment in silence. “I mean that sincerely, Nuri. Even I struggle to shake off the effects of the mana-control test, and I’ve been practicing this for a few decades. There’s a sharpness about you, a drive and burning intent, that wasn’t there before. Nurture that flame. Don’t let it burn out.”

I incline my head in acknowledgement, strangely moved by the earnestness in Ezio’s voice. I’ve stopped chasing approval in the same way that I did before, but the deep cravings for affection and affirmation are still there. They’ve simply grown—shed their own old skin like a snake molting—and taken on a new and improved form.

I don’t trust my voice to say any of these words swirling in my mind, still struggling with the after effects of the mana-control test. The roiling emotions churning inside my chest feel like a geyser building up pressure and about to explode. I settle for a simple nod of my head, but it seems to get the point across, given Ezio’s kindly, knowing smile in return.

He bustles off behind his desk again, emerging with a plate of biscuits and two glasses of mana draughts mixed with wine. “Well! How about some snacks to go along with all your new numbers?”

I greedily sip down the draught, embracing the soothing sensation, and devour two or three biscuits before I manage to work up the energy to reply. “You’ve thought of everything, truly. Thank you.”

Ezio finishes his notes with a decisive scratch of his pen, then flips the notebook around for me to examine.

Capacity: 29 —> 44

Retention: 71 —> 76

Speed: 57 —> 62

Resistance: 19 —> 13

Fidelity: 72 —> 81

Consistency: NA

“Impressive,” Ezio declares, tapping his fingers on the new numbers. “You should be immensely proud of your work, Nuri. This kind of progress is remarkable over a full academic cycle. To come this far in less than half a year? It’s almost suspiciously fast.” He adjusts a lens that’s hanging down over eye—where did that come from? I think groggily—peering at me intently as he fiddles with a control rune on the narrow headset. “Has Tem given you anything?”

My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

Ezio opens his mouth, seems to think better of it, and presses his lips together. It takes a pointed stare from me for him to sigh and relent. “It’s nothing, Nuri. Nothing for you to worry about right now. But maybe we’ll keep your original scores just between the two of us if you ever test in the Capital. They don’t need your pre-Threshold baseline, anyway.”

“I thought you said it would be good research material? Getting cold feet?” I ask as I chew on my fourth biscuit. Or is it fifth? I’ve lost count.

“I’m serious, Nuri. You shouldn’t let anyone know about the previous results. Not that I think we’re likely to run into anyone from the Capital anytime soon, but in certain circles, these results would be enough to cause problems. You already have a target on your back because of your friendship with Tem. If word of your explosive growth gets out, you’ll be an even more intriguing specimen. Someone will want to discover how you’re growing at such an absurd pace. I don’t think I have to warn you about how dissection works.”

I shrug, and say, “I don’t see how it could really get any worse. I’m already a wanted man. What more can they possibly do to me?”

“You don’t want to find out. The mysteries of leveling growth, Classes, and Skills have long plagued some of the brightest minds in Densmore. Some people think that if they can just ‘crack the code,’ then they’ll open the door to unlimited power. Some advice? Don’t present yourself as a potential key to that door.”

A measure of understanding dawns on me with his analogy. “I’ve often wished for a way to see how long it takes to level up, or just how strong I am . . . like that blasted mana-control test, but for Classes and Skills and relative capabilities of mana, or my strength and endurance, my potential and potency, and so on. I can see why it’s sought-after. But I’ll bet Casella has a method for it. He’s not likely to share, though. He already refused to teach me how to upgrade my [Manasight] Skill to peer into other’s core space.”

“Probably for the best. Some secrets are best left alone,” Ezio murmurs.

I scoff. “Where’s your scholarly curiosity? That sounds far too moderate for a creative researcher and exemplary academic like you!”

“I’m just a [Scholar],” Ezio deflects, although he seems pleased by my compliments. “Trust me when I say that the powers that be tend to frown on the general public acquiring too much information about other people. And I doubt Casella has a way to do what you say. He may be able to [Appraise] people’s Class or Skills, but quantifiable investigation, or seeing into a person in more granular detail, is probably well beyond him. Trust me, I’d love to poke at that new Skill of yours in greater detail, since something tells me we’ve only scratched the surface of what it can do, but some things ought to remain a mystery.”

I open my mouth to reply, but a knock on Ezio’s carved mahogany door shatters the moment like a rock through a stained glass window. With a wave of his hand, Ezio activates the control room rune and unlocks the door. His [Secretarial Researcher] peeks his head through the opening door and announces in a voice that squeaks suspiciously like a mouse that there’s a message from the Capital.

“For me?” I ask, swallowing as I wonder what new trouble I’ve ended up in this time.

He shakes his head, resetting his spectacles after they almost fall off his head due to his vigorous denial. “I, ah, happened upon it a few minutes ago.”

“That is, Rakesh intercepted it and brought it to me with all urgency,” Ezio clarifies. “He’s a resourceful young man—you two would probably make a good team, if you need someone to assist with librarian work or heavy-duty data analysis.”

Ezio paces over to his door with quick steps and thrusts out his hand. He accepts the offered missive, slips a few coins to Rakesh with a mumbled word of thanks, and shuts the door with an energetic shove just shy of a slam.

Fingers twitching, Ezio breaks the seal on his assistant’s message and unfurls the small scroll. His eyes scan across the content faster than most people can read a single sentence, lit by the soft glow of complex mana structures that indicates a high-level Skill at work. All the color drains from his face by the time Ezio finishes reading. He slumps down in his chair, fishes his silken handkerchief from his pocket, and wipes off the beads of sweat gathering on his brow. I’ve never seen him so shaken.

I start to stand up, but my legs are still shaking, so I slump back into my seat opposite from him again. I glance over at the message sitting on his desk, and raise my eyebrows, trusting that he’ll interpret the unspoken question.

Ezio composes himself, folds his handkerchief, and slips it back into his pocket. He stabs his finger down on the page and looks me in the eye. “The chaos storms are coming back our way,” he announces, but from the way he looks at me, I know that there’s more to the story. He takes a long sip of the remaining mana-infused wine. “And the Royal army is following in their wake.”

I frown. “We’ve known that war is coming. Why does the army matter?”

“Why does it matter?” Ezio splutters. “Because, Nuri, Silaraon just became the front lines.”