Chapter One

*

“Wake up!”

Alarian opened his eyes. “Balan? What is it?”

“You’re kidding me, right? It’s the school evaluation!”

Rubbing the grogginess of sleep from his eyes, Alarian looked around. He’d fallen asleep under the large pine in the back of the guild building, the place he escaped to after all he finished the duties of the day. He judged the sun in the sky with a hand over his eyes. Judging by its movements, he hadn’t slept but an hour or two. He was sure of it. “You’re not making any sense. Tomorrow’s evaluation day.”

Balan smacked his forehead and swore loudly in Daggarian. When he finished, he grabbed Alarian by his collar and pulled him to his feet. “You’re not listening to me! Today is evaluation day, and we’re about to be late.”

“That can’t be right.” His head pounded as his temples throbbed. The remnants of his sleep tickled the back of his mind and blanketed everything in a fog he couldn’t shake. The more he tried to remember details of the day, the more fuzzy everything felt. He muttered to himself, “Just what’s going on?”

“Oh great!” Balan started desperately pulling at Alarian’s arms to drag him up and onto his feet. “Listen to me, Alarian. I know I've played a joke on you here and there, but I’m not joking right now. Evaluations start soon, and you know Baron Lentalia's policy when it comes to punctuality.”

Looking around, Alarian started to notice the absence of others. He brushed his hair out of his face and rubbed the bleariness from his eyes with the back of his hands, yawning as he stretched his arms widely. “Huh. That’s not good.” Letting Balan pull him up, he shot to his feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I did!”

“Let’s not worry about the semantics. Time to go!”

Alarian darted out from behind the desolate guild building and tore across the frosted grass, his thin shoes feeling the firmness of the cobblestone streets with each step.

Balan, not one to be outdone, trailed after him and stayed hot on his heels as they tore across the too-empty town center. They blazed their way up the center of the street, breathing heavily as they reached the opened gates of the lord’s manor.

The two guards on duty didn’t stop them, grumbling something Alarian failed to catch as he continued his breakneck pace. He could see the entire town in attendance, grouping into their proper locations.

Poorer citizens stood farther back while the most wealthy took up the space front and center, standing proudly before the lord of Lentalia.

As they approached, they drew eyes from everyone.

We’re so going to hear about this later, Alarian lamented, already dreading the extra hours of duty he’d receive from Blaine for the foreseeable future.

They quickly made their way past the poorer folk, past the middle and wealthy classes, and maneuvered through the rows of Lentalia's youths.

For all of them, Alarian and Balan included, evaluation meant hope or damnation.

Once they took their spots towards the middle-back and fell in line, Alarian felt countless eyes boring into him from every direction. Only one set of eyes mattered, and he didn’t dare look up to meet Baron Malice patar Lentalia’s powerful gaze, head of the Lentalia house.

Many magical presences swept over him, willing him to kneel in obedience and address the Baron, but Alarian kept his head lowered, hands clasped behind his perfectly straight back, and refused to show deference.

When they faded away, Alarian observed Lentalia’s lord. His traditional insignia, that of a rubellite hawk hued in emerald, crested the left side of his chest over his heart. The insignia was everywhere: the banners, the guards, the edge of the platform.

Everything.

“Now that all of Lentalia’s youths are finally in attendance,” Baron Lentalia started, his voice contrarily gentle given his name and the current circumstances, “let us begin the annual evaluation.” He stood at the edge of the stage, looking over the crowd with a soft smile gracing his lips. “I’m very confident Lentalia has many that will bring this barony great pride over the coming years. This is a day of hope, of second chances! On this day, the hands of fate can shift. Opportunities, provided to us by The Elders where they rest amidst the ageless stars in the sky, find those worthy of them. The Elders see our souls and judge us mortals. They bestow us with their will, imparting their Inheritances upon those deemed worthy. Their kindness is the ultimate gift!”

His facade of kindness made Alarian want to puke, and the elitist-enabling sentiment he spewed disgusted Alarian to no end.

If the emissaries of Temmerica and Eldrecath weren’t here to administer the evaluation, he’d never lower himself to speak with us. He hid his scowl, clenching his teeth. Even if things could’ve been worse, the neglectful nature of the baron still pissed Alarian off—some often said unreasonably so, but he knew better than to put any stock in their words. If I had the power and resources he does, I wouldn’t let everyone starve on the Fringes. What is the point of all that wealth?

Despite his thoughts many would consider treasonous, he maintained his posture and kept his thoughts to himself, watching the mages and warriors set up the magic tools required to test potential Inheritors.

The brisk wind blew, ruffling the cloak that barely covered the black marks running from his stomach to his neck. He resisted the urge to do say “fuck it all” and throw away the ceremonial stance to shove his hands into the comfort of his cloak’s pockets.

Self-preservation kept him still.

But on top of that, hope kept him tame.

Disqualification needed no more reason than simply offending the baron or one of the evaluation administrators. Were today any other day, he’d do as he usually did, but even he wouldn’t be above damnation if he acted out.

By the time they finished, Manalight from embedded stones lit the walkway and platform clearly. The blue and violet hue tinted everything in a feeling of ephemeral beauty he never got tired of without polluting the starry sky above.

Anya’s visage of regality passed through his mind, and he subtly craned his neck to see if he could see her in the crowd. She’d be towards the front with the rest of the higher nobility of Baron Lentalia’s expansive family, but no matter how hard he searched for her, he couldn’t find any trace whatsoever.

Not until the representatives of Temmerica and Eldrecath stepped forward, only a half step behind the baron. Together, as if reading from a sxript, they announced, “Preparations and safety checks have all been completed, and we will now commence with the standard procedure of testing Lentalia’s candidates.”

Baron Lentalia gestured to the side of the platform, and the solid stone unfolded into a staircase. The steps looked smooth, even from where Alarian stood, and couldn’t be compared to anything back in Lentalia.

Everything there had been crafted with little mind or care for whether someone might twist an ankle. Functionability took precedence, and if costs could be cut and still have something work, they would be.

Penny picking was the only way to survive in the destitute barony, yet Baron Lentalia acted so high and mighty.

Clearing his thoughts brought him back to reality to see Anya appear in all her glorious beauty, wearing a fine green dress with a red falcon sewn into the center of her toned back.

The dress hugged her frame but didn’t restrict her movement as she walked out from a side path and strode to the platform with her head held high, ascended the steps in her laced boots, and stood before her uncle.

Grinning as her cute butt stuck out from the form fitting dress, he felt the subtle traces of anxiety at her missing presence fade.

As tradition dictated, the dark brown hair that trailed down to her lower back weaved together intricately in a fancy braid Alarian knew how to do by heart. The dress left her tanned neck, shoulder, and arm completely uncovered, causing Alarian’s attention to drift off to memories of a week before when they sat at the edge of Meet Creek.

The warm sun had chased off the ever-present cold winds that blew down from the looming mountains, their white peaks even visible from where he stood now. Pealing laughter had echoed through the sparsely packed woods, scaring off the smaller critters lingering about. His fingers had trailed down her face, neck, and shoulders.

After, they’d wrestled on his thick cloak until they’d shed their clothes, their naked bodies embraced. The sounds of their intimacy echoed as their hips—

“Alarian!” Balan hissed, bringing him back to the present.

At the front of the procession, the Temmerican Magi—Blaine, someone Alarian knew all too well—glared at him from down his round-rimmed glasses that sat atop a crooked nose. He waved two thin fingers in the air, casting two inconspicuous cantrips as subtly as he could.

“Get control of your magic before you’re sent to the headsman’s block, moron!” the man’s voice seethed in his ears. His eye twitched once more before his entire demeanor returned to the humble image of a Mageland representative. “You’re so close. Don’t screw up now.”

Right. Best to not space out in front of the baron. No need to give the man any more reasons to hate him.

Anya’s eyes locked onto his, her soft pools like caramel and buttercream boring into him with an intensity he completely deserved. The rest of her screamed regal, composed maiden, niece of the baron, and soon to be Probationary Warrior Inheritor.

Emissary Maddock offered his hand to Anya. When she took it, he guided her towards the first part of the evaluation: Aptitude.

The test of Aptitude would determine one’s innate talent. The Eldrecathian’s specifically measured one’s ability to use Aura.

The next two tests would determine the depth of her capacity to contain and then recover Aura. Had Alarian dictated the tests, he had another hundred things he’d tack on to narrow down the wide scope of potential each candidate contained.

But he didn’t.

“Anya vi Lentalia,” Emissary Maddock announced, his deep voice easily carrying over all present, “today, you will have the honor of being the first of your generation to be evaluated. Do you agree to listen to all commands given?”

“Yes, Emissary,” she replied, her smooth as velvet voice warming Alarian’s heart.

“Then without further delay,” Blaine called, his higher pitched voice also carrying across the group, “we will begin testing. All candidates with unknown or inconclusive results will be investigated to determine the depths of their capabilities. Any candidates lacking an Inheritance will return to stand with the rest of Lentalia’s citizens.”

Everyone watched with bated breath as Emissary Maddock stood on the other side of the Aptitude test. A milky white ball of glass had been fixed into a large stone made of some mysterious metal, runes lining each side from the point where they connected to the crystal all the way to the platform’s stone base.

Alarian held his breath as her hand drew nearer to the ball that would determine her fate.

Acceptance into the probationary academies. That’s the weight of what was on the line and something he’d dreamed of from a young age, having awoken his inner mana before the age of five.

Ever since then, he’d trained in secret by Meet Creek. Coincidentally, this is also how he’d met Anya the first time so many years ago. Together, they’d practiced their respective callings, biding the time leading up to this day.

Just the thought of being able to let his power loose for the first time in his life caused the air around him to buzz and warp slightly. Realizing this, he took a deep breath and clenched his teeth, asserting his control over his mana.

As Blaine said, he shouldn’t let his impatience screw up his one-way ticket out of Lentalia and away from the bastard baron. Releasing his magic wouldn’t do him any good before Temmerica recognized him as a new-gen magi.

Meaning if he got caught, his future would end then and there after he got thrown in prison for practicing magic, even unintentionally, without a license.

Now, the only thing that stood in his way and a license to practice, the very thing he needed to qualify as an adventurer and possibly enter the Tower of Generosity, stared him in the face.

This evaluation.

When Anya’s hand touched the milky white ball, her Aura filled the space. In a blurry flash, The Six Lights—quartz, topaz, citrine, garnet, turquoise, and tanzanite—all filled and passed by.

Opal, the one and only delineation that was neither Light or Dark, came and went. Then Emerald, the first of The Six Darks, began to fill the space quickly.

Baron Lentalia nodded as if he knew this would be the case all along, but things didn’t end there. His face drew gaunt as the orb filled with a blue reminiscent of glittering sapphires.

“Ahh, this—what a surprise!” Emissary Maddock said more to himself than anybody else. He looked back towards Baron Lentalia and grinned slyly. “To be expected of the Lentalia family.”

“You’re quite right,” the city’s lord said, nodding without even the semblance of a smile on his face. In fact, he looked displeased, eyes trailing back and forth between the sapphire results and Anya. “She has sufficient talent. A gr—great Aptitude, just like her mother." He bit out each word as if they left a foul taste in his mouth. "I’m sure she’ll make a great Royal Knight in no time at all, bringing great glory to the Rubellite Falcon’s Inheritance.”

Emissary Maddock frowned at the baron’s unruly demeanor, shaking his head. “Not quite. Her Probationary Inheritance is that of the Sapphire Tigress’ Inheritance.”

He further tested the Aptitude orb with a curious glint in his eyes. The sapphire shade gave way to the familiar hue of shimmering rubies Baron Lentalia took such great pride in, past through onyx, and stopped at a deep gray speckled with black dots.

Moonstone, the great potential of the Tigress Inheritance.

Alarian’s heart dropped in his chest as he watched the baron’s face become beet red. Steam might’ve started coming out of the lord’s ears were it not for Anya moving on to the second orb and placing her hand firmly on top, halting any talks.

“Maddock!” Blaine said sharply.

The Eldrecathian man nodded towards his colleague and wiped the devilish grin from his face, schooling his features carefully and reigning in the dense Aura that had combatted Baron Lentalia’s bloodlust and fury.

Fuck you, Alarian thought, watching as the baron’s eyes stabbed into Anya’s back.

The results of her capacity test took far longer than the test of Aptitude as she drained the limit of her capacity into the orb. Alarian already knew the results of this test, having helped her empty and fill her capacity to expand her limits from the moment they’d become acquainted.

Ten seconds later, her shoulders shrugged forward as she gasped tiredly.

Alarian hadn’t seen Emissary Maddock move, yet he caught Anya before weakness buckled her knees out from under her.

For that, Alarian’s appreciation for the man grew slightly.

Then, somehow navigating the clipboard that appeared from thin air while keeping her on her feet, the man quickly guided her to the third orb within arm’s reach.

Silver Essence within the third orb quickly siphoned away into Anya until she reached full capacity and returned her strength.

The sigh of relief she let out indicated the intensity of the tests, a thing of unadulterated appreciation for the effects her Aura provided her body.

A pin could drop, and everyone would hear it as Emissary Maddock’s pen scritched across his clipboard, detailing the results of her Aptitude, capacity, and recovery rate.

Alarian also looked over the results, grinning from ear to ear as he saw each orb’s results. The Aptitude test revealed Anya had a Perfect Inheritance, matching the Sapphire Tigress’ hue perfectly.

She’ll be free from today on. The hope and excitement only grew higher as he took in Baron Lentalia. Disbelief, anger, fear. This is what you get.

His beautiful tigress always had been a feisty one, but now she had the power to back her. Baron Lentalia’s ruby Permanent Inheritance only ranked one step higher than Anya’s Probationary sapphire. The Tigress never made a Permanent Inheritor less than onyx, but more often than not, recipients of Tigress received the power of a Permanent Moonstone.

Anya’s future would never lack opportunity.

Of the thirteen basic colorations for Inheritances, Moonstone ranked second only to Meteorite and was the more likely option of the Tigress’ Inheritance. She would never have to bow down to Baron Lentalia after her Offering to the Elders.

Fear in the face of calamity made sense.

The second orb, almost filled to capacity, determined her internal Aura well to be on par with the rank of a peak second-tier Aura practitioner, surprising many since anything higher than a faint trace was considered excellent.

Those with a first-tier capacity received leadership positions amongst the military’s ranks, were often hired by nobility to join their private armies or protect successors, had their pick of which mercenary clan they could join, and so much more.

But Anya?

Her second-tier would make her viable to become a Royal Knight if she so chose.

The Eldrecathians wouldn’t let her out of their sight for the foreseeable future, especially not with her third orb's results.

She’d refilled her enormous capacity in a mere thirty seconds. Everything could be summarized with two words: prodigious talent.

Another Eldrecathian, presumably Emissary Maddock’s aid, reset each of the orbs, refilling the contents of the third. His shoulders sagged as he finished, sighing tiredly.

A new third-tier Aura practitioner? He looks at least twice the age of Emissary Maddock, Alarian noted, seeing the man’s wrinkled face and bone-thin fingers. Seeing how the two interacted made Alarian curious. Just what Inheritance and tier is required to be an Emissary?

Alarian felt tempted to reach his magical senses out to see what Inheritance both men carried, but just from looking at the aid's sickly, aged pallor, the likelihood of having something higher than Citrine or Garnet didn’t seem probable.

The temptation of using his mana grew stronger, the Song of Stars calling him. Listening to its tune without revealing his connection had become second nature to him. Normally, he passively listened without getting distracted, but the crescendoing melodies demanded his attention now more than ever and echoed like war drums in his ears.

Pursing his lips, he doubled down on his efforts to stay grounded in reality.

Today marked the twenty-first winter of his birth, just like the rest being tested today, and the Offering to the Elders begged him to complete the ritual of permanence.

Alarian found the occurrence odd since his Probationary Inheritance hadn't even been identified, so even if he wanted to, he couldn't fulfill the Offering to the Elders.

Yet, it called to him just as strongly as his unknown Inheritance did.

To be able to heed its calling, he first needed to get to Blaine and identify the power of his Probationary Inheritance, the power restlessly waiting inside of him.

Thinking as much, he took a deep breath and released it.

One of Emissary Maddock’s several assistants, a female wearing her own set of tanzanite-hued, sapphire eagle regalia, guided Anya to the steps on the other side. She shot a sharp glance towards Baron Lentalia as she aided Anya down the steps and waited there to guide the next candidate up to Emissary Maddock for testing.

Barely missing a beat, despite his reddened face, Baron Lentalia looked over the assembled crowd from the edge of the platform and spread his arms wide. “What a great first reveal! Now, many of you have been pre-screened, so this ceremony will be a required formality with the Emissary Blaine and Maddoc in attendance to witness and record each of your results. Those who remain untested, please step up to the foot of the platform.”

Alarian heard shifting movements behind him from the sections for the poorer folk. Within a minute, a crowd huddled around a dais two of the baron’s guards had dragged out as he spoke.

The line moved quickly as the fifty or so youths of Lentalia placed their hand against the indicator stone. Each got one of three results, a blue, red, or null flash, then returned to their spots at the back of the gathering.

Red indicated the presence of Aura and the potential to reveal a Warrior’s Inheritance. Blue was the opposite, indicating mana and a Magi’s Inheritance.

Both results received sighs of relief and a happy skip-step during their short walks back. For them, getting any Probationary Inheritance whatsoever, may it be quartz or ruby, would change their lives for the better.

Alarian wished things could be so simple for him.

The gut wrenching cries of those with a null result caused him to shoot a dangerous glare up at the baron as he lorded over all of them with that faux smile on his face. Alarian knew better than to believe a damn thing that man said or did.

The man’s eyes screamed his disdain to the world. His rubellite falcon suited his temperament well. For all he cared, the people of Lentalia all looked like mice to a hungry bird of prey.

Their eyes met, and the baron’s facade nearly slipped as disgust flashed across his face and through his eyes. The baron looked away first, causing Alarian to smirk despite the multiple magical presences trying to crush him.

Let’s see how long you stay an arrogant prick. Clenching his clasped hands behind his back helped him calm down, but he shot an eager glance Blaine’s way, begging for the man to get on with screening everyone else so he could get out of the ass backward city run by a lowly baron. Father, why did you send me here?

Putting up with the asshat baron from such a young age while hiding his true identity all felt arbitrary.

Alarian vi Astrophel, second son of Emperor Cassius Orion the Third. Countless times, he'd nearly slipped and revealed the truth of his lineage. The more the baron treated his people and those Alarian adopted as friends and family, the more he wanted to reveal the information. He knew the path was one doomed to damnation, but the urge to reveal the information just to spite the damned baron only…

Well, he hadn’t done it yet, meaning he’d never do so. His best move was the one he acted on now, and he couldn’t hate the man for everything. If anything, Alastor had garnered a single benefit for his entire life's effort.

Anya.

But the results he’d accumulated—very little of note—were to be expected. As a bastard son, he both had the weight of the world on his shoulders and lacked the backing of his brothers and sisters to fulfill those expectations.

“Bring your ass,” Blaine’s hushed voice whispered in his ears.

Grinning, he fell out of formation with the rest of the pre-selected magi for advanced screening. Thank the stars.

Chapter Two

*

Following behind the crowd, Alarian passed by the indication orb and scowled when it flashed violet. Anxiously, he looked around to see if anybody else had seen the strange phenomenon, but from what he could tell, nobody had.

If they did, nobody said a damn thing about what they’d seen.

Stepping into line behind the other pre-screened magic candidates, Alarian waited, watching the different hues flash from below. He couldn’t clearly see the candidates from where he stood, but the lights emitted were clear. He knew enough about the others to identify who was being tested just from their results.

Citrine, Jamison from the bakery. His dad was a Quartz man who married a former noble woman who’d been banished to exile in the town bordering the dangerous Fringelands.

Taz, Nevell, and Jorgan all got Garnet.

The first Dark Inheritance, an Emerald Falcon, went to Melony ala Lentalia, the baron’s own daughter. After, Melony’s twin brother Adam also received the Emerald Falcon.

More and more passed by. The uneasiness in Alarian’s chest grew. Conversations from the past years came back to him. Promises had been made, but everything relied on whatever results his evaluation revealed.

But he knew what would come, and the storm to be weathered was a tribulation he’d mentally prepared for his whole life. That didn’t mean he would be ready.

Eventually, the torturous wait came to an end. Alarian’s patience had worn down, paper thin by the time his feet stepped on the stone steps of the platform. He prayed to The Elders and stars above his results would do the power he felt in his gut justice.

And then he was there, standing before the Temmerican Emissary.

“Alarian,” Emissary Blaine greeted with a grimace, shooting a look to the side. When he looked back, his resolve steeled. “Are you ready?”

Not deigning to respond, Alarian took a deep breath as two assistants stood to either side. Each boasted a third-tier aura and sapphire Inheritance, garnering curious looks from Baron Lentalia and Emissary Maddock alike.

Shooting a look over his shoulder to attempt to calm his rapidly beating heart, excitement and nervousness nearly killing him if the pounding in his chest were to mean anything, he found Anya and locked eyes with her again. Those creamy brown eyes glittered supportively, and she blew him a kiss.

Alarian didn’t miss Baron Lentalia’s scowl, but he remained still, his eyes glued to the orb in front of Alarian. The shit baron grimaced the entire time as he watched with bated breath.

At first, nothing happened when Alarian placed his hand on the orb.

“Damnit,” Alarian breathed, resting his head on his hand. “The Elders and their generosity are going to get me killed before the day’s out, Blaine.”

“Not a chance,” the Emissary—Alarian’s oldest friend from back home and the only one that knew the truth of his identity—muttered and pointed towards the two assistants. “We don’t have to do this here, Alarian. You have nothing to prove to any of them.”

He met Blaine’s gaze and grimaced. “Just do it.”

“Grab the other set,” Blaine ordered, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

The two nodded solemnly, looking at each other as if they’d been sentenced to death, and then relayed the message to Emissary Maddock and his people.

“Damnit,” Alarian swore again, barely containing the nervous tingling in his chest that caused stinging magic to seep into his fingertips.

“So it’s come to this,” Emissary Maddock’s voice echoed across the platform. He helped the others move the set up parallel to the Magi testing area, then carefully positioned himself with his hands at his sides, resting calmly against his two swords’ hilts. He oriented himself towards Baron Lentalia and his men. “I’m not happy about this, Blaine, but I’m here to see things through.”

Alarian turned and shot the man a look, seeing both pride and despair reflected back at him. “Why…?”

The large man smiled softly and shot Anya a glance. “She’s told me about you in counsel, and if your results are as Blaine suspects, I don’t know how many of us will be standing by morning.”

“So? You owe us nothing!” Alarian hissed, shaking his head. “Give me a temporary permit, please. This isn’t your fight!”

“No,” Blaine replied sharply. “Your journey won’t start stained in the blood of the likes of Baron Lentalia, Alarian. Even with a temporary permit, your name would become taboo in the higher society. We,” he pointed between Emissary Maddock, his two assistants, and himself, “have a duty to you and the empire.”

“Fuck your duty!” Alarian growled.

“This is how it’s going down,” Emissary Maddock stated matter-of-factly. “Get over it and take the test.”

Soldiers, prompted by a suspicious Baron Lentalia, began surrounding them on the platform. Their weapons had yet to be drawn, but their hands itched ever closer.

“Emissary Maddock and Emissary Blaine,” Baron Lentalia said, clasping his hands in front of his chest. “What seems to be the issue? To an outsider, it almost looks like you’re preparing for battle.” He tilted his head, his eyes sharp and full of murderous intent. “Why might that be so?”

Blinking away the hesitance and frustration, Alarian slammed the palms of his hands on both of the Magi and Warrior Aptitude orbs, letting out an enraged growl as his energy coursed through his limbs.

Violet light, reminiscent of the Manastones, densely surrounded Alarian and the two spheres. The density of magical power in the air caused everyone around him to take a surprised step away.

The four sapphire Inheritors coughed as if they’d inhaled noxious gas, their veins pulsing a violet vibrance through their thick layers of clothing. Blood trickled from their noses, but they stood strong after the two Emissary’s Mana and Aura washed over their respective attendees, stabilizing their rampant powers.

Both Aptitude spheres filled at a rate Alarian found dizzying. In fact, he didn’t start at any of the Six Lights. No, his results started at the first of the Six Darks, emerald. Blurring past that, sapphire filled both orbs just as quick. Ruby, the same.

“That’s incredible—wait, what is this?!” Blaine exclaimed.

Emissary Maddock’s powerful red Aura blasted out in a dome to surround himself, Blaine, and Alarian. Wide eyes stared at both orbs, causing him to mutter, “That… can’t be.”

A steady stream of black filtered through Alarian’s hands into both orbs, onyx. In all of history, ruby had been the peak of Probationary Inheritances, yet before their very eyes, Alarian kept going.

A Warrior-Mage in addition to a never before seen Inheritance.

Onyx completely filled the orbs, spilling over to a deep gray speckled with black dots. Moonstone, the peak of what the Tigress’ Inheritance could offer and a level of power Baron Lentalia could never reach.

If only that was the end of his evaluation.

The black-speckled gray disappeared. The most powerful of the thirteen Inheritances, meteorite color, darker than black with mixed in hues of the darkest reds, blues, and greens, spilled into both orbs.

Both orbs shone clearly with the vibrancy of a meteorite Probationary Inheritance. Alarian couldn’t take his eyes off the orbs until the world around him shook.

“Men of Lentalia, kill that boy. Whatever it takes, he can not leave here alive!” screamed Baron Lentalia as he flashed forward, striking the barrier again with the full capacity of his power glittering dangerously on the edge of his curved sword.

“Alarian, finish your evaluation,” Blaine shouted as three illusory clones rose from the ground and reinforced Emissary Maddock’s barrier with a second layer of black mana—the power of an onyx Inheritor.

Already, he felt completely drained, but the feeling came from his forceful use of both energies in tandem. Even if he had them inside of him, they didn’t play well and clashed when used simultaneously.

But when he placed a hand on both orbs, the energies quit clashing and siphoned into the orbs as fast as he could drain them out of his body. The constant shaking of the protective domes as all the baron’s men attacked kept him focused, despite nearly shaking his concentrated focus several times.

As much as he wanted to see if Anya and the rest of the people of Lentalia were faring, Alarian couldn’t take the time to check. With as much energy currently channeling through him as there was, he would die from the backlash of retracting it all now.

I have no choice but to finish.

Underneath his hands, the orbs grew hot. Like heated coals, the feeling of embers burnt the flesh of his palms as he emptied the capacity of both Mana and Aura pools.

Then he realized a crucial mistake.

The test… isn’t made for someone like me!

If he kept channeling his power into the orbs, with the utmost confidence, he knew the orbs would explode in a torrent of primordial fury as the stored power returned to the Elders and the stars above.

Fuck.

Thinking as fast as he could, he gripped the two balls from the pedestals and shouted at the top of his lungs, “Drop the fucking barriers!”

“We’ll die!” Blaine shouted back.

“Fucking do it!”

The Temerrican Emissary shot a look over his shoulder to see the problem. “Maddock!”

“Go!” the Eldrecatian Emissary shouted, seeing the fear in Blaine’s eyes.

The barriers snapped as they dropped, a torrent of power released by the baron and his men flying forward through the now-empty space. Both Emissaries did what they could to stop the attacks, but they’d all been aimed at Alarian and so couldn’t move.

“Get the fuck out of the way!” Alarian screamed, but by now, they didn’t question him. The orbs launched infinitesimally high into the sky as he slammed his hands forward. With the raging maelstrom of power pouring out of him, a torrent of meteorite Mana and Aura streamed forward as he roared, “Fuck you, Malice!”

The destructive force behind his attack eradicated the baron, his men, and the unfortunate assistants who’d been locked in battle with the guards.

Even that didn’t stem the flow of power coursing through him, and he threw his hands to the sky. By the time his power drained, he couldn’t force himself to stand on his feet anymore, and he slumped forward onto his hands and knees.

Emissaries Blane and Maddock didn’t move, and he worried he might’ve accidentally killed them too. Reaching a tired hand forward caused him to slump forward onto his chest and scrape his bare chest against the cold stone.

It didn’t matter.

Pushing himself, he crawled forward and rested his hands against Blaine’s neck. He closed his eyes to focus, unable to find a pulse. Then a soft yet firm hand gently moved him away and checked both men.

“They’re alive,” Anya muttered, looking down at Alarian. “That was incredib—”

Two orbs, high in the sky, exploded.

Violet waves rippled the sky to shreds, illuminating everything below under a thunderstorm of chaotic fury. The air all around him whooshed upward, sucked into the massive vortex above.

Ah, crap.

The suction force dragged all the limp corpses into the sky and obliterated any traces of them. Were it not for Anya’s body and sapphire power grounding the two Emissaries and Alarian in place, they would’ve suffered similar fates.

Screaming echoed from down below, the assembled crowd rushing to find cover or something to latch themselves around to keep grounded and out of the destructive vortex.

Many failed, and their horrific cries echoed in his ears as they were dragged through the sky against their will, coming to a sharp and eerie ending. The sharp and abrupt quiet once the vortex claimed them caused his chest to ache.

The destructive force fueling that vortex lasted a minute.

One whole minute.

When all settled and the power ran its course, Lentalia’s history would forever be altered. Of that, Alarian knew for certain.

Gossip traveled fast, and the death of Baron Lentalia wouldn’t go unnoticed. The Emissaries would also have to report back, but none of that mattered right now.

“Are they still alive?” he muttered, groaning as he weakly rose. He grabbed the edge of the last orb’s runed dais to pull himself up.

Surprised flashed through his face when he saw the two sets of testing equipment, minus the two orbs he overloaded, all survived that sucking maelstrom.

“For now,” she answered, ripping open their robes to reveal violet, pulsing veins crawling across their chests. They inched ever closer to Emissary Maddock’s heart and Blaine’s head. “What did you do to them? This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Can we even save them now?”

Clenching his eyes to get rid of the soreness and fatigue, he leaned forward and rested his hands on their bare chests. “Let me try something. I… don’t know if this will work, but I can’t let them die.” He repeated those words in his head a thousand times in the span of a few seconds. Before he started, he looked up at Anya. “Back up.”

“I’m fin—”

“My beautiful tigress, please…” he muttered, his tired eyes begging acquiescence.

She pursed her lips, wiped her hands against the front of her dress, and then crossed her arms while moving to the edge of the platform, looking around at all the destruction. “Far enough?”

“No clue,” he admitted, closing his eyes. “All this is unknown to me, honestly.”

She smacked her lips in annoyance, and he clicked his tongue in reply. “They can’t die here, Alarian. They’re the only witnesses worth a damn who can attest to what’s happened. If either die, you’re fucked for good.”

“Will you leave me behind if that’s the case?” he asked playfully, having asked the same question everyday since they’d met.

She sighed. “Of course, you troublesome man.”

“I knew it,” he said, grinning. “You’ll never leave me ‘til the day we die.”

“You don’t always have to be right,” she grumbled, huffing a frustrated breath. “I’ll never leave you, even if you’re a pain in my ass.”

Nodding, Alarian focused his attention on the energies making their way towards the stored energy pools of the two Emissaries. From what he could tell, the merging of Mana and Aura destabilized everything inside their magical pathways.

Curiously, he followed the energy through their bodies to find everything, all of the problems slowly killing them, originated from their backs. They’d been faced away from him, so the entry point of his energies had seeped into them there.

The violet energies clashed, the deadly tendrils of energy spreading closer to their energy pools. They sought more energy. An all-consuming hunger, destructive in its desperate need, perpetuated itself as it blended together with their natural stores.

If they weren’t so powerful, he didn’t think they’d still be alive. The two Inheritances staved off the energies as best as they could, but Emissary Maddock’s Aura only added to the growing violet traces as his resistance failed.

Blaine fared decently better, but the inevitable fate of both would take them if Alarian didn’t figure out a solution.

Knowing the problem only made things more complex. If he were to inject more Aura into Emissary Maddock, Alarian would likely kill the man with the infusion of an unknown Inheritance. Rather than aiding in his recovery, the more likely outcome would be that the man’s own Inheritance would act just as it did now with the foreign fused taint of Mana.

Seeing as the timer ticked down for the Eldrecathian, the tendrils inching ever closer to his heart while Blaine’s tendrils barely even passed the middle of his back, Alarian focused his attention on the larger, brute of a man.

If the solution wasn’t to imbue more Aura in to balance the Mana, and adding Mana would overwhelm what little defenses the Emissary put up, then he could only think to draw out the Mana.

But…

I can’t do this, he realized. “Anya, I can’t save them…”

“What? Alarian, you have to save them,” she said, a hint of panic seeping into her words. She came closer, and he didn’t try to stop her. She rested her hands on Maddock’s chest next to his. “Explain what the problem is.”

“My Inheritance, even unknown, is way too powerful for me to only draw out the Mana infused in his Aura. I can’t infuse Aura and withdraw Mana without killing myself. That’s just not how things work…”

“Your Inheritance is too strong?” she asked, looking behind him. She rose to her feet and stepped over the downed Emissaries, grabbing something. She knelt beside him with the two orbs full of Essence in her hands. “My Inheritance isn’t too strong. You pull Mana, and I’ll use these to try and refill his Aura as best as I can. Do you know his Inheritance?”

“Aside from being rubellite, he has nothing else to identify things,” he muttered, searching the man’s pockets. “Nothing.”

“I think this is the only choice we have, Alarian,” she said, sighing. “If his Inheritance is of the ruby family, then he should be able to metabolize my Aura to stimulate his recovery… Right?”

“Fuck if I know,” he said, bitting the inside of his cheek. “But we don’t really have an option.”

“If anything, we just have to remove the traces of Mana and kickstart his recovery,” she said hopefully.

“I know, but what if his Inheritance sees your Aura as incompatible and throws a pissy fit? It could just kill him anyway,” he grumbled, sighing deeply. “Honestly, your Inheritance is probably too strong, too. If his Permanent Inheritance gifted him with ruby power, there’s no way he can match the Tigress.”

“Does he need to? If you pull out the Mana, and I control my Aura output, he should be fine.” Seeing his face, she hissed in frustration. “We can’t just let them die, Alarian!”

“I—I know.” He pursed his lips, staving off the guilt brewing in his heart. Already, he considered the two as good as dead. When the Royal Knights came, he’d either hang to be made an example of or his head would get far too comfortable on the chopping block. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t have a choice.”

“We don’t have a choice, you mean,” she rebuked, placing her hand on his in a show of comforting support. “One way or another, our fates are decided by what happens next. If our time must be cut short, then so be it. If we go into the stars together, I’m sure we’ll shine brightly together for all of eternity.”

Taking a deep breath, he calmed his frayed nerves. “On three, you slowly feed your Aura in as I…”

She squeezed his hand. “Do what you have to. One, two, three.”

He shifted both hands over to the Eldrecathian’s chocolate-colored skin and sucked a deep breath through his nose, the ebbing tides of mixed Mana and Aura raging against his control.

A deafening roar shook his skull, and the defiant energies seemingly stilled. Splaying the tendrils as if butchering a freshly caught fish down the center, he separated the two energies throughout the man’s body and left the tiniest bit of his meteorite-powered Aura behind to stop any of the energies from merging together while he began attempting to draw the Mana into himself.

Immediately, the man’s body started convulsing violently.

“Alarian!” cried Anya.

Fuck, he has no established Mana paths to expel the energy!

Thinking as fast as he could, he grabbed the convulsing man by the side and groaned as he and Anya flipped him onto his back, making sure his face turned to allow the ability to breathe. With all his remaining might, he wrenched on the back of the man’s robes and stripped them free of his body.

Exactly as he expected, he could feel a point of Mana thick enough to allow for the process of diffusion. Since he’d expended all his Mana and Aura into the orbs and his attack against the baron and his men, very little energies remained inside Alarian, making this method possible.

Briefly, he glanced towards Blaine to check his worsening condition. As expected, things gradually worsened but didn’t look too dire just yet. That would be a bigger pain in the ass than he knew how to tackle at that moment, but one thing at a time.

Replacing his hands around the largest accumulation of mixed energy, the most concentrated mass of Mana, he asserted his control over the tendrils trying to sneak their way around Alarian’s thin applications of Aura to fuse with the Emissary’s Aura again.

Anya’s energy poured in at the same time, her hands repositioned over the point in Emissary Maddock’s back closest to his heart. Sweat trickled down her face, and steam rolled off her body.

Concerned, Alarian thought to ask her to stop and let him finish, but the burning determination in her eyes knew his efforts would be a waste of their valuable and very limited time.

Even if they stopped both Emissaries from dying, they needed to recover before the Royal Knights arrived, and that pressure drove Alarian’s concentration to a higher level. Like a doctor maneuvering a scalpel during advanced surgery, Alarian made sure none of the Mana connected to anything within the Emissary’s Aura pathways.

Then Alarian pulled with all his will, dragging the thousands of tiny tendrils towards the concentration of Mana, through it and out the man’s back, then into his hands where he metabolized the energy.

I’m a monster, aren’t I? he questioned, feeling the amount of Mana coursing through his own magical pathways, up his spine, and into his Mana storage. This amount of Mana is nothing, but it almost killed Maddock. Someone with a ruby Inheritance…

The realization haunted him as he considered its implications, but he forced himself to ignore those feelings for the moment. Too many things needed to happen before he even knew if he’d even live to see the light of morning.

Anya lurched to the side to grab one of the orbs and immediately started draining it, groaning as she received the energy, transferred it throughout her pathways, processed it with her own Inheritance, and then pushed it through her palm and into the Eldrecathian she considered a mentor.

The strain was taking its toll. Her entire body shook from exertion, and he knew she wouldn’t be able to help him with Blaine without permanently hurting herself.

One problem at a time, he reminded himself.

Their hurried, unrefined method caused the Emissary to groan and scream in pain irregularly. At times, his body tensed and made Alarian think he’d pull a muscle or severely hurt himself.

Because of their speed, Alarian couldn’t continuously restore his blockade. By the time he dragged out the last traces of Mana, only a trickle of Aura remained in the man’s body. Alarian looked at Anya wryly, knowing she was the only reason Emissary Maddock drew breath now.

“Tigress?” he muttered, but her eyes fluttered briefly before closing shut entirely. She slumped forward atop her mentor’s bare back and didn’t move again. “Damnit.”

She’d drawn all the Aura from the orb and then some, shattering the enchanted glass. Her hands bled from the shards embedded in her palm, blood dripping down onto the Eldrecathian’s chocolate-skinned back.

Shakily, he stood on his feet and moved around the recovering man, his breaths drawn easily as his Inheritance stabilized. For that, Alarian felt relief, but his frown and dismayed glance shot toward Blaine betrayed his inner thoughts.

After wrapping his cloak around Anya, he leaned her back to rest properly. Then, he tore the thick materials from his pants around his ankles, fit for staving off the biting winds and keeping his warmth insulated, into strips.

Within seconds, all the glass shards were removed. He wrapped her hands with the impromptu bandages and sighed, wishing he had more time to properly dress the wound. Without anything else to use, what remained of her Aura needed to stave off infection.

He really didn’t want to know what he’d end up doing if she somehow got a magical infection from that glass, but the paranoia of the stories told to scare children when young and proof of those things happening far too often in Lentalia—especially to those who entered the Fringelands—made him nearly stop everything else.

But as she’d said before, if either Emissary died, his life would be over.

Without further delay, he turned his attention towards his old friend, one of the two people who truly wished for Alarian to succeed in life, and hoped to the generous Elders in the stars above to grant him the power to keep the man alive.