“And then she said ‘only then will you know what you need to know’!” Theresa moaned, her hands pressed to her face.

“Okay, what in all hells does that mean?” Alex asked from off to her left. She heard the page of a book turn, the thunder of Claygon’s massive feet across the ground, and Brutus’ panting and barking, mixed with the yelping of other dogs. She heard the deep sigh her boyfriend often gave when something troubled him. “She literally told you her observations—observations that you asked for I might add—and then she gets mad at you for saying ‘you understand’?”

“I don’t think she was mad,” the huntress groaned. “It was more like she was trying to give me a warning. But the way she said it made it feel like I was some naughty kid or something.”

“Well, maybe she should’ve, y’know…been more clear, instead of talking in parables and making you try to figure it out. Ugh, Baelin does that sometimes.”

“Well, it’s her way of teaching, and to be fair, we learn more when we figure things out for ourselves than when she just explains things. She used to explain more last year when we first started taking the course, but as the year went on, she started guiding us toward examining our own life paths and figuring things out for ourselves. Each person’s path through life enforcement is unique, so it’s not really helpful if she just gives us her perspective.”

Theresa sighed. “Which is why she reprimanded me for saying that I understood: her perspective isn’t really useful for me in this situation. So if I’d left her office just taking her viewpoint as the truth, it wouldn’t have gotten me any closer to understanding what I need to know.”

“…fair, and yeah, I didn’t mean to go hard on your teacher like that,” Alex said. Another page turned. “Just made me mad seeing you so upset, that’s all.”

“I know,’ Theresa said, opening her eyes. “And that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

She squinted against the sun's rays streaming through thick brass bars enclosing the beastarium, then glanced at Alex. Even sitting cross legged on the grass, her partner towered above her as she sat with her legs draped across his lap. His glowing Wizard’s Hands hovered in front of him, holding a book on life enforcement he’d borrowed from the library.

Selina was sound asleep, leaning against a nearby fruit tree with a blanket tucked around her from chin to toe. Theresa watched her chest, waiting for it to rise. It finally did. How the young girl could sleep through Claygon’s thundering footsteps was a mystery, but sleep she did, soundly and peacefully. Her father would have called it the sleep of the dead, or the young. The giant golem was moving across the grass with slow, deliberate steps, his war-spear in hand: twirling, shifting and thrusting through the positions of the Spear-and-Oar dance. From hours of Alex leading him in different dance steps, his movements were far smoother, faster, but there was still something surreal in the image of a massive stone warrior moving through the beastarium’s pathways and grasses almost gracefully. As Claygon danced, Brutus led a pack of dogs and dog-like monsters, tearing past him as they chased each other around his legs.

“Careful!” Theresa called to her three-headed pet.

“Oh, he’s fine. I’ve been watching him,” Alex said. “I love you too. And I’d also really love it if even one of these books gave me some answers. I’m not finding anything that could help you with your swords.” He grunted, slamming the book shut and setting it aside. “And that’s the last book I have. Not a single chapter about life-enforcement compatible objects helped. Hmmm…maybe blood magic books might be more useful. Maybe I could ask Professor Hak.”

“No, it’s okay,” Theresa said, sitting up. “Honestly, what I should be doing is clearing my head—“ She took her sheathed swords up. “And observing the swords without any preconceived ideas. Looking through books is only wasting your time.”

“Hey, if there was even the slightest chance that these books could help you, it was worth a shot,” Alex shifted the life enforcement books to the side. Another set of Wizard’s Hands floated to another pile, picking up a summoning spell-guide that was spilling out of a bag.

She smiled, then tilted her face up to kiss his cheek. A frown touched her lips as something scratched them. “You’re sweet.” She glanced at the cover of the book he was ready to open. “What’re you working on?”

“New third-tier summoning spells,” he said. “I need to make sure I have a good handle on that level of magic.”

“Oooo, what’re you summoning?” she leaned over for a peek at the book.

She didn’t know why she bothered: the pages were full of the same symbols and diagrams that Alex was always drawing. They made her head spin.

“Well, right now? Nothing really. By the time you reach third-tier summoning, most of the monsters you call reallyshould be summoned in the Cells for safety’s sake since a lot of them are pretty dangerous. I think you might like this one, though.”

He flipped the pages of the spell-guide, stopping at an artist’s rendering.

“Oh my!” Theresa said. “Look at him!”

The drawing was of a tall, proud looking canine that resembled a cross between a large wolf, a doberman pinscher, and a bull mastiff. There was a nobility in the way it stood and a proud intelligence to its features.

“What’re they called?” Theresa asked.

“Flicker dogs,” he said. “They’re really pretty neat actually: their homes are in the celestial realms, and they’re a lot like wolves here on the material plane. The big difference is that they can teleport.”

“Really?” She frowned, imagining wolves teleporting, then imagining herself long dead in the Coille somewhere. “That’s terrifying, but kinda cool. Can they teleport like Baelin does?”

“Oh, by the Traveller, no,” Alex said. “Most can travel about seven hundred feet with a thought. They can also ‘flicker’ in place. Which means they can vanish to avoid an attack, then reappear in the same spot. They can be really annoying to fight and even harder to catch and they’re also very good at getting into places and sneaking around. Another nice thing about them is that they’re about as intelligent as humans, and they’re very loyal.”

“I can’t wait for you to summon one.” Theresa tapped the ears of the drawing with a gloved finger. “I wonder if it’ll let me scritch it?”

“Heh, well, we’ll see if it’ll be open to scritches, you know how dogs are, some love a good scritching, some prefer biting your hand off.” Alex laughed. “Once I get this spell array figured out, I’ll be summoning one and if all goes well, you might be scritching before the day’s through.”

She giggled. “What about your other summoned monsters? Any other cute ones?”

He gave her a thoughtful look. “Well, cute wouldn’t be the right description for hell-boars—which are about seven feet tall at the shoulder—or formiac ants, which look like regular ants except they grow to be about the size of Brutus. But, even though they’re not cute or great in a fight if they’re alone, they’re amazing climbers—and with enough guidance—really good at construction.”

“That’s neat,” she said. “Got something you plan on building?”

“Not specifically,” Alex said. “But if we're ever caught out in the wilderness, they can help with building a shelter real fast. How cold it gets in Thameland or even in the Crymlyn started me thinking about how important getting some quick shelter would be under those conditions.”

“Nice thinking,” she said.

He gave her that look again. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked. “You’re not usually so interested in this kinda stuff.”

“Well, you’re showing interest in my stuff,” Theresa said. “So, of course I’m going to be interested in your stuff…even if I don’t get a lot of it.”

The smile spreading across his face was like sunlight coming out on a cloudy day. Well…sun that was still somewhat obscured by clouds. He couldn’t deny it anymore, the mess of fuzz he’d been cultivating for the last while was finally something one might call a ‘beard’, a rather short one, but it had reached ‘beard’ level.

Theresa…wasn’t sure if she liked it; it was scratchy when she kissed him.

“That’s another thing I love about you,” he said. “I—”

His face suddenly went blank and he sharply turned toward Claygon.

The golem continued his dance.

“What is it?” Theresa asked.

“I don’t know…” he muttered. “Probably nothing…probably.”

“That really sounds like it was definitely something,” she said, peering at Claygon.

“Well, I don’t know…I’ve been mentally guiding Claygon through the dance while we’ve been talking, but I don’t think the last couple of steps he took were ones I directed.” He peered intently at the golem.

Claygon continued his dance across the grass and—and holding the spear as he was—he reminded the huntress of seeing Fan-Dor and Gel-Dor performing the dance for the first time on The Red Siren. The twins had moved through the dance together, identical in every way, moving as mirrors of each other. Moving as one.

“You know,” Alex muttered. “I’m wondering if it’s the material.”

“What do you mean?” Theresa pulled her thoughts back from the memory.

“I mean, Claygon keeps getting close to a breakthrough in sentience,” he said. “Every now and then I feel his mind begin to spark. Then nothing else happens. I’m wondering if the material he’s made with is the problem. Maybe the mana doesn’t conduct through clay well enough for his mind to fully form? Or maybe when he evolves—if he evolves—we might see his mind fully form then. All we can do for now is just try and keep it stimulated and show him lots of affection.”

Theresa smiled. “Maybe we can do that right now.”

“Hm?” Alex looked at her.

“Take a break,” she said, jumping to her feet “Dance with me. Dance with us. Let the three of us do the Spear-and-Oar dance together. Maybe we’ll get some insights.”

He cocked his head. “That’s not a bad idea, besides, I’d be a dead man before I said no to dancing with…Claygon. You’re also a nice bonus.”

She rolled her eyes, walking toward the golem. “Your father is so mean, Claygon. You need to show him what it’s like to be a true gentleman.”

“Strong, tall and silent?” Alex hopped to his feet, following her.

“Silent, but at least polite,” she said, falling into the first position of the Spear-and-Oar Dance.

Alex took up a position beside her, putting his hands on his hips. “Well, we’re probably not going to be able to do thatdance; after all, it’s meant to be performed by two, not three.”

“Well, then you’ll need to improvise, I guess.” She grinned at him. “You’ve been practising Fan-Dor and Gel-Dor’s dance all this time and you can’t come up with something new?”

“Pfft!” he blew out a breath, readjusting the placement of his hands. “I’ll show you something new. I’ll have you know that Alexander Roth could be the choreographic director for a circus!”

“Yeah, maybe for the clowns.”

“...well, I just ran right into that one, now didn’t I?” He shook his head. “Ah, whatever. If I’m a director of clowns, then you’re a clown too, because I’m about to direct you!”

He fell into the second stance of the Spear-and-Oar dance. “Follow my lead, I’ll give you some suggestions but in the end…hell, just do what comes naturally. We’re making this up, after all.”

“Yeah,” she said. “And that’s the fun part.”

Together, Theresa, Alex and Claygon launched into a different version of the dance, one not meant for two, but for three. At first, things were clumsy: a dance for two performers mirroring each other didn’t work too well for three. One dancer would act as a reflection of the other, which left the third redundant. It made their dance unbalanced and awkward.

“This isn’t working,” Theresa said. “Maybe…we should try moving to compliment each other instead of mirroring each other?” She thought of the selachar twins, moving beautifully across the deck. “We should move like one entity.”

“Hmmm,” Alex mused. “Yeah, that’s like the Dance of Fusion. In that dance, it’s less of a mirror and more like…each dancer acting as a different part of a stronger whole.”

“Okay…” Theresa said. “I like the sound of that. Is it for three or more?”

“No, still two…but I think we can modify it. Here, let’s try this…”

He led them into a new dance, one that was the Spear-and-Oar Dance, but built on the Dance of Fusion’s principles: not two moving in reflection, but three moving as one in compliment. At first, things were awkward as Alex and Theresa stumbled around Claygon.

But soon, they grew more comfortable and better practised…and started moving in tandem. A transformation occurred while the trio glided across the grass, responding as one. It felt…proper, like they should have been moving like that all along.

Theresa fell into it more and more, laughing with Alex as they danced with the golem.

She had no idea just how much that little dance would change her life.

And soon.

Far beyond Generasi, things were already shifting.

And her sword would be needed.