Kalden stared at a ghost from across the green lawn. He’d already seen his brother in his dreams, but this was different. Elend’s dreams had felt like reality, but that didn’t make them real. For all their detail and immersive power, they could still shatter with one stray thought.

But this was the real Sozen Trengsen, standing in front of him, solid and true.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Tori said from Kalden’s left. Her voice sounded far away, and Kalden barely managed a half-hearted nod.

Sozen broke into a jog, closing the distance between them. He wore dark jeans, a white dress shirt, and a blue blazer—more like a teacher than a student. Kalden relaxed his vision and saw an Artisan’s soul inside his chest.

“Kalden?” his brother repeated once they stood only a few paces away.

“Sozen,” Kalden replied in a numb voice.

A broad smile flashed across his brother’s face, mixed with the surprise in his eyes. “You got out.”

“Are you real?” Kalden asked him. Then he shook his head at the stupid question. No imposter or Dream Artist would answer that honestly. Kalden had to be sure—he and Akari might act like simple Artegium students, but their enemies were real.

“The last words you said to me—before you left Arkala. Do you remember them?”

Sozen’s smile faded, but he gave a stiff nod. “I said I’d come back for you someday.”

Kalden let out a breath, and the tension left his body like honey sliding off a spoon. He reached out his prosthetic hand to clasp his brother’s wrist.

Sozen ignored that and held out his arms, crushing Kalden into a hug.

“Come on,” he said a second later when they pulled apart. “My friend owns a bar on Market Street. We can talk there if you have time.”

“Yeah,” Kalden said, still feeling dizzy. “Of course. Lead the way.”

They left the Artegium and ventured out into the greater campus. The stone paths turned to ordinary streets with two-story brick buildings crammed together on either side. Walking beside his brother felt more surreal than any dream. Even if he’d hoped to find Sozen someday, a part of him thought it would happen later … perhaps on some secret mountaintop at the edge of the world.

Meanwhile, Akari had believed he’d show up at some dramatic moment. She’d also insisted that Sozen must be alive because “no one ever dies offscreen.” Both theories had been jokes, but she’d been half right.

They stopped at a place called “Fisong Shokenese Cuisine” which sat between a bank and a comic book store. Sozen led them through a dimly lit dining room that had begun to draw an early lunch crowd. The inside was about what you’d expect from a college bar. Brown paneling covered the walls, and old-fashioned lightbulbs hung from the ceiling’s wooden rafters. A fireplace dominated one wall, surrounded by a ring of leather armchairs. He could easily imagine some old professors gathered around there in the winter, discussing philosophy over a round of pints.

His brother exchanged some quick words with the bartender, then they passed into a private room at the back of the restaurant. Long wooden tables covered the floor, and three stained glass windows filled the back wall. Stained glass in a college bar? The colors were subtle—not the bright primaries you’d see in an Angel chapel. Instead, the artist had stuck with shades of orange, giving a sunset impression.

“The owner does stained glass on the side,” Sozen said. “You should see this room in the evening.” Then his brother walked by the fireplace, and the flames sprang to life out of nowhere.

Weird. Many fireplaces came with sigils, including the ones around the Darklight Estate. But how had he activated it without mana? Unless his brother was secretly a Master who could move his mana mentally.

Either way, that question didn’t even make Kalden’s top ten list right now.

Sozen activated a sound suppressor as they took their seats by the fireplace. “So how’d you get out?” he asked. “Past the Martials? Through the Inner Sea?”

“I wish I could tell you everything,” Kalden said. “But I made promises to the people who helped me. I need to consult them before I say too much”

And yes, Irina had explicitly mentioned “long lost family” on her list of people they couldn’t tell.

“I know how that goes,” Sozen said. “We all answer to someone.”

“I don’t think they’ll object,” Kalden said. “I just need to clear it with them first.”

They paused as a server showed up with two glasses of beer and a massive platter of sushi. Kalden accepted his glass and took a good long swallow. He wasn't normally one to drink before noon, but today was an exception.

“Okay.” Sozen grabbed a piece of sushi and dunked it into the sauce. “How about the parts you’re allowed to share?”

Kalden took another sip and considered. He couldn’t share anything that involved Akari, Relia, or Elend—at least not until after he got their permission. Fortunately, he could still share the bones of the story without revealing their specific roles.

So Kalden told his brother how he’d secretly learned Mana Arts against their mother’s wishes. He told him about his dreams and the call of his past life. He told him how they’d fought hundreds of Martials to escape the island, and how they’d braved the tides of the Inner Sea.

Finally, he told Sozen how he’d been shipwrecked in Creta, where he’d unlocked his memories and lost his hand in battle.

Even this bare-bones story probably gave away too much. Twenty minutes of research on Sozen’s part could tie him to Elend, Akari, and Relia. Elend had even taken a sabbatical last year, which lined up with the timeline of Kalden’s story.

Then again, Sozen could have figured out those things without Kalden’s help.

“What about you?” Kalden finally asked. “I had help when I escaped, but you did it alone.”

Sozen nodded. “My escape was nothing like yours. We barely fought half a dozen guards in Keylas—nothing like the military base you faced.”

That made sense. The Martials had obviously tightened security after Sozen left, then again after Relia fought her way in.

“What about the tides?” Kalden asked. “And the storms?”

“We hit some tides, but the Water Artists dealt with those. We also got lucky with the storms—made it all the way to Vaslana without crashing.”

He’d almost forgotten that Sozen had left home with two Water Artists. Even Elend couldn’t control the tides, especially with those impedium cuffs. Sure, he could repel them, but that wasn’t the same as moving with them. A skilled sailor was still better than a Grandmaster at sea, just as a skilled general was more valuable than a Mystic in a war.

“We spent a few months in Vaslana,” Sozen continued. “Then we had some disagreements. I wanted to play things slow, and they wanted to go back and help the others. They thought if they brought proof, the Martials would listen to them about the outside world.”

“They were wrong,” Kalden muttered into his glass.

Relia had tried to bring proof, too. Some rebels and conspiracy theorists had listened, but the Martials definitely didn’t make that list. In fact, Emberlyn’s father had hinted that the Martials already knew the truth. They’d just gotten too attached to their prison.

“We were just kids,” Sozen said with a shrug. “I planned to go back once I regained my memories and reached Apprentice …”

“So you got your memories back, too?”

He nodded. “I paid a Dream Artist to help me. I’m guessing you did the same.”

“Close enough,” Kalden said.

Sozen took a long drink. “I had this whole plan to help you and Mom. But the more I learned, the more I doubted myself. There were a dozen Grandmasters in Last Haven. Even together, they were no match for our attacker.”

Kalden stiffened as he remembered the dark figure in the sky above Last Haven. They’d been talking for almost an hour now, but this was the first time either of them had mentioned it.

“Do you know who it was?” Kalden asked.

His brother shook his head. “I know some things about him, but nothing specific like a name or an aspect. He clearly wanted to stay anonymous, and powerful Mana Artists tend to get their way.”

Sozen polished off the last of his drink. “Whoever it was, he doesn’t care about me or you. I doubt we’d still be here if he did. But here’s the problem …” He lowered his voice despite the sound suppressor. “Our enemy cared about someone. It could be Mom for all we know. What if I rescued her, and that drew his gaze? That’s when I realized I’d only get one chance to go back.”

Kalden gave a slow nod. He and Akari had reached the same conclusion, except they’d planned to help everyone from the start.

His brother gave a helpless shrug. “So what do you do when reaching Grandmaster might not be enough?”

“Shoot for Mystic,” Kalden said. His tone was almost sarcastic, but not quite. Impossible goal or not, it was their only real chance.

Sozen must have agreed because his smile was anything but light. “I see we understand each other.”

“Talek,” Kalden said. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

All Mana Artists aimed for the Mystic realm, just as they all hoped to ascend and become immortal. But for most people, those goals were nothing but vague wishes. They knew the odds were against them. They knew they could live ten thousand lives and still fail.

“People have done it before,” Sozen said. “Even as young as their thirties.”

“Sure, but how?”

“They don’t share their secrets, but the secrets exist. We just need to find them.”

“Have anything in mind?” Kalden asked.

“Nothing I can share yet,” Sozen replied. “For now, I’m just working and training. Same as you.”

“You’re working here at the university?”

He nodded. “I just started this semester. Grandmaster Raizen hired me as an assistant for his second-year Blade Arts class.”

Kalden frowned. “Blade Arts? But you were a Metal Artist when you left the Archipelago.”

“I was a Blade Artist before that,” Sozen explained. “Aspects are permanent. That’s a law of Mana Arts. Even our attacker couldn’t break that rule.”

His frown deepened. “Then how …”

“He suppressed our Blade Arts,” Sozen said. “The same way he suppressed our memories and our mana.” Then his brother pulled out a pen and began drawing on the back of a napkin.

“Blade mana has four key components—metal, knowledge, craft, and destruction.” Sozen drew the symbols for each mana type as he spoke. “The Archipelago didn’t have aspects that advanced, so our attacker had to simplify things.” He took the pen and crossed out everything but the metal symbol.

Kalden’s blood froze as realization struck him like a sword to the chest. He’d thought he had a clean slate, but if Sozen was right …

“You and I have always been Blade Artists,” Sozen went on. “We lost our mana on the island, but the aspects are still permanently etched on our souls. This is why you still fight like a Blade Artist now.”

Kalden tried to reply, but his lips felt numb.

“I had to go through the aspecting ritual again,” Sozen said. “But that’s all it took. You should be able to do the same.”

“And what if I don’t want to be a Blade Artist?” Kalden asked. “You’re telling me I have no choice?”

“Aspects are permanent,” Sozen repeated. “You know that.”

Of course. Every child knew that, but he’d thought he and Akari had been given some special exception. Even Elend and Irina had thought so. Just a few hours before, he’d been ready to put Blade Arts behind him. His body wasn’t what it was, but his brain was as sharp as ever, and Knowledge Arts had seemed like the most logical step forward.

Now …

Kalden drew in a steadying breath. No need to panic yet. Sozen seemed well informed, but the Darklights were Grandmasters, and they’d believed Kalden could change his aspect. That had to count for something.

“You’re sure about this?” Kalden asked. “No one’s ever suppressed an aspect before now, either. Not to mention all this stuff with controlling our powers and memories.”

“Don’t take my word for it,” Sozen said. “Have your teachers order you a soulscan.”

“What’s that?” Kalden asked. He’d heard the term before, but he’d never researched specifics.

“Souls have unique patterns,” Sozen said. “Sort of like fingerprints. Silver Sight can’t see these patterns, but there are more advanced machines that can. The pattern also changes when you aspect your mana. In your case, half your soul should show blade mana.”

“Thanks.” Kalden took another shuddering breath. “Guess I’ll do that.”

What if his brother was right? What did that mean for his future? Talek. And what about Akari? She’d already aspected to space mana in her past life, and she’d been counting on this second chance to fulfill her parents' dreams. Did this mean she had no chance of becoming a Spacetime Artist?