The crew of people Ranvir ended up bringing back to Elusria City had grown beyond his initial estimation. He hadn’t considered that Laila, as the heir to Isgerd, couldn’t be traveling alone. Of course, Frey and Gunnor weren’t happy already saying goodbye to their family and asked if they could come as well.

So now he was bringing himself, Frey, Gunnor, Frija, Vasso, Esmund, Kirs, Sansir, Dovar, Master Ayvir, Laila, Shiri, and two further servants. Fourteen people, many of whom were powerful, tethered in their own right, yet further weighing down the space.

In the end, he made two trips. One the day before, where he took Sansir, Ayvir, Dovar, Es, and Kirs back. This was a heavy load for him, but manageable. Especially since most could minimize their impact on the space. While staying, he contacted Pashar with a brief touch of his tether-sense and they arranged a specific time for his audition with the Queen.

Now, as the rest were packed and ready to go, he was almost going to miss that time. “Alright, alright,” Isgerd said, choking back tears. “I’ll say goodbye now.” She’d said that at least three times so far. She hugged Laila, who transition from tolerant to embarrassed to annoyed.

“Enough, mom,” the young blond said, pushing her mother away. She waved goodbye and entered Ranvir’s space last.

“Ranvir,” Isgerd said, stopping just at the edge. “Please tell me you’ll take care of my baby.”

“I will take care of Laila. Make sure she’s strong and capable.”

“And ma—“

Ranvir sealed them off and hurried on. “Because of the delay, we’re going straight to the palace. I’m sorry I won’t be able to put you up anywhere first.”

“How long will it—“ Gunnor asked when Ranvir opened the space again. Traveling to his beacon, Ranvir circumvented the intermediate space. He stepped out onto a square a short distance from the Queen’s palace. Keeping some distance in his skips let people keep the illusion of safety, or at least hold their guards off him. “Take…”

Moments later, a shadowy storm flew from a window in the primary structure. The smoke collapsed in Pashar’s immaculate form. “You’re late.”

“Lord Isgerd is a sentimental.”

Pashar nodded and looked at the others emerging behind them. She noted Shiri’s appearance and glanced at Ranvir. He shook his head and gestured for her to move forward.

A sun of rainbow light flashed through the crowd, spraying gravel into the sky, and Esmund arrived. “You’re late,” he said, thumbing toward the castle. “Kirs is already inside.”

Ranvir nodded, already walking.

Ranvir now had an in-person experience of how difficult Esmund could now be in a fight. He and Sansir, with some input from Kirs, had done something to their Disciplines. Sansir’s was far less intense than what Es had done, but they still made for impressive foes.

They called it Shaped Disciplines. They’d applied their Concept, not just to the mana they wielded but to the power wholesale. All of Esmund’s power sat at the touch of his fingertips. Well, his skin. His Disciplines, Cloak, Sword, and Flesh were concentrated a finger’s length from his presence. He had no more range than a fresh tethered with no stages at all.

He’d traded all of his reach for unimaginable intensity and control of his mana. Esmund could, with great concentration, stop warp from splitting light, ‘revealing’ its true colorless nature.

Sansir’s was less immediately impactful and way more insidious. Creeping Frost didn’t stop just because you left his reach. It didn’t stop just because it got hot. It had taken concerted effort from Master Ayvir’s heat focused Concept to burn away Sansir’s power. He had less immediate impact on combat than a second-stage should, and it couldn’t be fully utilized until in sparring matches.

Ranvir reached the palace. Huge gates, towering far above any mere mortals who stepped into its shadow, yawned open before visitors. Kirs came running down the hall.

“You’re late,” she said. “What took you so long?”

Ranvir rolled his eyes and waved her away. She snorted at him and kissed Es on the cheek. Behind him, the others muttered and gasped in awe at each new turn of the palace. He had to admit, what they had achieved was impressive even after seeing all that Korfyi had to offer. It lacked the supernatural wonder of the Collegia, or the sheer power and might of the greater folds, but there was awe in the knowing workers built this, not tethered. That it was labor that had created the vaulted ceilings and painstakingly tiled the mosaics on the floors.

“You can leave the rest of them in there,” Pashar said, as they entered a long ‘thin’ hallway. It was still wide enough to drive a cart through, it was also longer than most village squares. “Beyond here, you only bring the ones who will enter the audition with you.”

“You heard her,” Ranvir said, directing everyone towards the waiting room. While they had equipped the room for many people, there was a still a press of bodies as everyone squeezed into the room. Only Es and Kirs remained behind. He’d already discussed with them and they’d agreed to go with him.

“See you soon,” he told his parents before taking a knee and kissing Frija on top of her head. “In a minute, Firehearth,” he said, stifling a grimace. She still had soap in her hair. He’d need to make sure she was washing it out properly. “And you, little buttercup.”

“Don’t!” Vasso said, reluctantly letting himself get pulled into a hug. “I’m not a buttercup.” His complaints fell on dead ears as Ranvir hugged him tight. He bumped his chest and smiled. “It’s good to see you taking training more seriously,” he winked at him and stood up.

Vasso had been training more. But only on the third day when he realized Ranvir’s optional lessons were the ones he held with Laila. Suddenly, Vasso had never been more studious. By the end of the first lesson, he’d even gotten comfortable enough to forget he was afraid of her.

His confidence didn’t last long as an off-hand comment made her snort. Just a quick breath of air through her nose. It was enough to remind Vasso he was a nervous and shy teenager.

Then he showed up the next day as well. Ranvir almost considered if he could figure out some group or duo exercise, but it would have to wait until they manifested tether-sense. He was pretty sure the Korfyi term, soul-sight, was more accurate than his native term, since it existed within every system he’d traveled to so far.

If he could get them to show extra-sensory abilities before accepting any powers, that would be a huge step forward. Then they would also have tether-sense exercises they could take up. Ranvir was pretty sure Vasso occasionally had some minor success, but he wasn’t getting it reliably, yet.

“You are the ones going to the audition?” Pashar asked to make sure everyone agreed. When everyone gave their assent, she nodded and took them to one end of the long hallway. Ranvir noticed they were walking towards a small one person door, where the ones on the other end were big oaken affairs. Not as big as the ones outside, but big enough to get a banner man through without lowering it.

“We’re not going to the audience hall?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I convinced Queen Minul II to give you a private audience.”

“Why?”

“Because I doubted your ability to show her proper respect, and I wanted to avoid forcing her hand.”

“Forcing her hand to do what? Throw me in prison?” Ranvir snorted.

“They can hold space-tethered, Ranvir,” Pashar reminded him.

“I’ve undone pockets made by Saleema,” Ranvir said confidently. “They can’t hold me.”

“Where are intending to keep all the ones you brought with you?” she asked, a pointed edge in her voice.

Ranvir winced. “I was hoping Grev’s brother would let them stay until Dovar’s home is in a proper enough state to house everyone.”

Dovar was a slightly more troublesome member of the team. During their training, it was evident that everyone out did him. Despite having been in the lead when Ranvir left, Dovar was now dusted by everyone of his former teammates, which seemed a fitting description of his life.

He was taking it hard, but Ranvir convinced him to go on a run around the village with him. They took it carefully, slowing often to make sure Dovar wasn’t going too fast. His body remembered much of his old strength, speed, and stamina, memory and reality had unfortunately drifted quite far apart.

Dovar had improved markedly over just the six days in the village. Having someone to draw baths for him and clean up seemed to return a little of his usual self. Ranvir had to remember that Dovar went from an heir of a major noble family to destitute. He’d never had to take care of these things himself. What Ranvir’d felt was luxuries at the academy, Dovar’d seen as a matter of course.

Hopefully, Ranvir could buy him a little time with his head above water and teach him how to swim, so to speak. He’d had to make sure that Dovar didn’t stay in his abandoned mansion when he’d dropped him off. Thankfully, Master Ayvir had seen to him.

“You seem to have thought this through,” Pashar said tersely, as they approached a guarded door. Ranvir sensed multiple presences inside. Most notably an ancient smoke covered spark, a rock of obsidian, and singularly sharp edge.

“Not really,” Ranvir replied with a smile. “I’m mostly flying by the seat of my pants.”

She rolled her eyes, looking at the ones behind him. “Are you ready?” she stopped in front of the door.

“Yeah,” Ranvir said, Es and Kirs nodding behind him.

Pashar reached for the door, the guards letting her. She knocked twice before opening it and stepping aside. Inside, Queen Minul II sat in a plushly appointed office. Small glyph lanterns covered in colored paper sat on elaborate feet on each of the far corners of the dark wood desk. Behind her stood an older woman, her fingers covered in glassy stone. In the furthest and darkest corner, an Ankirian man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties smiled.

The Queen’s eyes bored into his. “You’re late.”