Ranvir knocked on the orphanage’s door, but stepped inside before anyone could answer it. He knew the place well enough to feel comfortable with such behavior. A child stopped on the way to the door. He was about eight or nine years old, with flour in his hair, on his face, and liberally doused on his shirt.

“Oh hi, Ranvir,” he said, tapping his chin and turning around. Ranvir returned the gesture, gazing at him for a moment.

“Who was that?” Kasos’ voice came from the kitchen.

“Just Ranvir,” the kid replied with a shrug, turning the corner.

Moments later, Kasos appeared. The old man was equally coated in flour, though he had the foresight to wear an apron. “Come in! We’re making bread.”

Ranvir cocked his head, listening to the noises coming from the kitchen. Either the kids were brawling, or they were beating the living daylights out of a lot of dough.

“How much bread are you making?”

Kasos waved a hand. “We’re not baking it here,” he pointed toward the potragos station. “I made a deal with the baker and his wife. We can use their ovens. We’re just making it here.”

“While I wish I could stay and watch that, I was just coming to check if Pashar was staying here or with Ione.”

Ranvir already knew the answer, of course. Ranvir hadn’t yet felt her slip his senses since she returned. Though, he might not notice if she could slip his senses. He still didn’t know what she’d done with Amanaris, other than doubling down on smoke.

“She’s…” he got distracted by someone yelling out and the sound of wet dough hitting the floor. “I gotta go!”

Ranvir smiled at the old man. Kasos could’ve been these children’s great grandfather, though people didn’t have children as early here.

Ranvir hurried up the stairs, but Pashar was already coming down, a backpack slung over her shoulder. “You’re early,” she said.

Even the prospect of returning to her home didn’t seem to rattle her. Or at least, she didn’t let others see it.

“I am,” Ranvir said. “I had more free time than I feared. That’s all you need?”

Pashar turned to glance at the pack over her shoulder. “Yeah,” she nodded firmly.

They headed down the stairs and Ranvir peeked into the kitchen to witness the absolute chaos that was unraveling. It was more anti-climactic than he’d hoped. Kasos had a firm grip on the children’s attention and respect, apparently.

“Goodbye, Kasos,” Ranvir said, waving goodbye. Half the children looked at him and Kasos waved in acknowledgement.

Presently, Ranvir and Pashar flitted through space, then the Liminal. “What’s it like?” she asked, after a moment of silence. Ranvir turned to look at her, though he remained with his arms crossed, wings spread for the moment. Once he returned to Elusria, he would have to ‘hide’ them again.

“Saleema attacked Ankiria after I disappeared.”

“Big fight?”

“From what I gather, she killed most of the royal line.”

Pashar coughed roughly, staggering slightly. “Are you sure?”

“Have you heard of the Sleeping Sons?”

Pashar rolled her eyes. “Of course, I have.”

“Well, they’ve joined Elusria.”

“Sounds like I’ll have some catching up to do.”

Ranvir nodded. His space rippled as it impacted Vednar until he touched down on the beacon he’d placed in the woods. A slight flex dissolved the space, dropping them onto the solid soil of Elusria City’s forest.

“Ranvir,” Pashar said, stepping in front of him as he folded his wings over his body. “The Queen is going to bind you to her, or at least attempt to.”

He cocked his head, feather ruffling. Pashar’s eyes flicked over his body, before composing herself. “Why would she?”

Pashar smiled dryly. “For no other reason than you avoided Saleema. If what you said about her killing the King and his children is true. She’ll want—she will need—that a trump card. Also, you’re not exactly a regular tethered, even to an off-handed scan.”

Ranvir waved a hand to dismiss her worry. “I’ve warded off the scans of a Master already.”

“If she has the Sleeping Sons, then she has Triplet Masters as well. Can you ward them off? What about Saif? He’s old, Ranvir. You can’t hide it from him.”

Ranvir sighed. Tension whispered through him in a yellowish orange, that rumbled more like rattling stones than the whisper of a creek as it journeyed through his body. “What do I do then?”

“Try to deny them is an option,” Pashar said, rolling her wrist. “It’s up to you, really. You can push away. They might attempt to leverage those you care about, don’t let them. Once done, it sets the tone of your relationship.”

Ranvir narrowed his eyes at her.

She rolled hers. “Yes, they’ll likely send me to grab someone if that’s the case.” Pashar noticed his lingering gaze and straightened. “I will go to you first, if that happens.”

His brows flicked together before nodding. “Thank you.”

She smiled and gazed toward the surrounded city walls. “Guess it’s time to go.”

###

Ranvir took a determined step forward, thrusting his fist towards the distant wall. Dune Blow thrust sand with his movement, blasting into the space’s limit hard enough to shake its foundation. The space rippled and shook, unsteady beneath Ranvir’s feet.

He relaxed his hold on his power, the yellow glow fading from his body as he straightened.

Amanaris

***

Dune Blow:

Ability Score increase: 290 -> 291

He grinned. He couldn’t help it. Shifting his Abilities to better fit his goals had been a pain and a half, even with two experts helping him, but now training them was actually going much faster than he’d anticipated.

The difference between Kyriake’s practical knowledge swiftly lifting him into the two-hundreds where control became the bottleneck rather than understanding.

Then Faidar’s and Siphis’ highly technical knowledge helped develop Abilities for practice and combat. The Warden’s knowledge of stone and the related mana-typings was vast, not limitless. Stone was renowned for its simplicity. All the element’s strongest braced could be described as ‘big hit make big damage.’ Sand had a little more nuance than that.

Amanaris

***

Abilities:

Storm Locust - 354 (+3)

Sandstorm Vortex - 342 (+5)

Sand Spear Barrage - 305 (+4)

Dune Blow - 291 (+10)

Sand Bastion - 26 (+21)

Ranvir grinned at the growth to his Abilities. They weren’t astronomical, but it’d barely been a week. A busy week. He left the sand in the space and stepped out into Vednar. Sitting down, he prepared for the last of his daily practices.

First, he visited each of his systems and their allocated space within his soul. The looping three rope tether that gave its name to the space, twisted on its own axis. The movement kicked up a bit of a breeze. Ranvir could almost feel it rustling his non-existing clothes and tussle his not-there-hair. At the very bottom of the space, four squares of rock sat together, as dense as the ropes above them. Second Order material Ranvir’d brought in himself.

The tether was still calming down from his recent use of power, but otherwise seemed perfectly normal and fine. Ranvir moved on to Amanaris.

This space also held within four gray square tiles, perfectly cut to equal dimensions. Above them hovered the core. Amanaris resembled a ball of indistinct solid mass, glowing a soft pale yellow, like sand mana. It threw out another pulse of power, probably towards his Perception, which pushed against Ranvir’s spiritual presence. It made him think of a powerful gust of wind.

Ranvir’s brow creased, and he turned to the last of his spaces, this one slightly different and perhaps the reason wind metaphors were on his mind. Graywing’s enclosure had more of square tiles than any other space. Enough that Ranvir’s reflexively settled on them.

The stone gave the place a more grounded feel. It almost fought against Ranvir’s instincts to hover in here, like he did within the others. At the very center, a dark gray shadow huddled, its wings wrapped around and hiding its head, though he could see its neck rising above the shelter of its massive feathery appendages.

Graywing hadn’t moved an inch since the space was first established. Power didn’t pulse off it, not when he was here. Though Ranvir was vaguely aware of something like it happening when he tapped into the bird’s mana. The sensation was distant, however, and he was usually focused on practice.

Ranvir walked the perimeter of the square, looking over the bird from every angle. Graywing stood like a statue. The space felt silent, more than the others. It reminded him of a background noise suddenly cutting off, the quiet growing too loud in the gap it left. Graywing was here, but its presence wasn’t.

Ranvir retreated from the enclosure to stand before the prison. Calling it a distinct area like the others would be a disservice. The layers and barriers of anima, second order energy, Ranvir’d wrapped around Latresekt’s egg still held strong. Pressing against it, Ranvir sent forth images and ideas, carrying them with anima through the layers of protection.

Defense. Walls, shields, armor, and scales. Images Ranvir associated with protection.

Safety. Homes, shelter, friends, and loved ones. Images Ranvir associated with security.

Fighting. Abilities, Mana, Injuries, and Combat. Images Ranvir associated with battle.

The egg echoed the images back to him. Ranvir couldn’t tell if it was trying to deceive him. It agreed with him, or it was an instinctive reaction to the stimuli. Shaking his head, Ranvir retreated. It would remain until it couldn’t any longer.

Deliberately, Ranvir, having centered his spirit, returned to his body and brought his tether-sense forth to look upon the world. To Gaze the Lines. Mana twisted and bent around him, the plane fighting his attempt. Ranvir did not care for its struggles and forced his will to manifest. Mana coalesced in patterns, emanating strongly from the city and the academy.

Carefully, he began back tracking the patterns, finding later events, his spirit straining at restraining Vednar’s unconscious will.