Ezio no longer needs to call us to order by now. He simply launches into his lecture as soon as the tenth bell rings, regardless of whether or not we’re prepared. I sit up, ready to take notes, as he talks about the upcoming research projects.

“I’ve had the chance to review the research proposals. Most of you have excellent ideas. You’re looking into solid scholarship or new fields of magic, and I applaud your instincts. A few of you will need to meet with me during office hours to discuss more suitable proposals. Never fear, however; I’m committed to seeing you all succeed. I promise that I will help you.”

Melina and I glance at each other at the same time. Neither of us are likely in danger, but it’s still an unsettling thought that our proposal might not be good enough. We’re not even taking the class for credit, I remind myself, which helps me calm down.

“Early on, three proposals stand out. If yours is not on this list, strive to do better,” Ezio says. He’s looking straight at me while he announces the favored projects, and I just know that I’ll be singled out again. He seems to like making me a target so that the younger students have something to shoot for.

“Aditi, well done with looking into increasing mana density for upgraded infusion stations. If you can bring your theory to fruition, you’ll be hailed all across the city. Top marks! Zviad, your preliminary thoughts on mana-empowerment for physical combat are intriguing and well laid out. Lastly, our crafting duo: Nuri, you and Melina are trailblazing in analyzing organic sources and improving material sciences research. Exceptional promise if you can create glass armor.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, but no one else responded to Ezio’s praise, so I immediately feel silly. I keep showing my lack of familiarity with the Academy setting.

Ezio saves me from feeling too embarrassed by jumping into the next topic. “Today, we have an exciting change in our syllabus. I know, I know: you’re heartbroken that we’ll have to postpone looking over research methods as scheduled. We’ll get there. My graduate assistant, Rakesh, will show you the power of his Class. He’s an absolute genius at correlating information and tracking down obscure facts. Mark down his presentation time on your calendars.”

While the polite laughter dies down, Ezio sketches out a spiraling maze on the slate wall behind him. “This morning, we’ll look at Rifts. Show of hands: how many of you have ever been in a Rift before?”

I snort, expecting more laughter from the students. Instead, there’s a deathly silence that hangs over the class like a gray, sullen pallor. Curious if anyone has been in a Rift, I turn to look over my shoulder. Sitting in the front row is terrible for spying on other students.

One hand goes up halfway. Zara, the young woman who apprenticed with the military, is uncharacteristically chewing on her lip. Her hand flutters, and she pulls it back down as though she thinks better of making such a bold claim.

“Ah, let me guess,” Ezio says, nodding toward Zara. “As part of your training, you took a few steps into a lesser Rift and then beat a hasty retreat?”

“Yes, Sir. That was enough for me.”

“I imagine so!” Ezio clasps his hands behind his back. He looks more solemn than usual. There’s no mischievous glint in his eyes or wry smile on his face. “I’ve been in two Rifts, and the second barely counts. I entered just long enough to take a reading with a modified mana gauge as part of my studies into artificial aspects. That’s enough to last me a lifetime.”

I feel a bit of sympathy for Zara. She’s so young, despite her bluster, and I can’t imagine having to deal with a Rift at her age. Or at mine; I’m not that much older. Facing the prospect of monsters pouring forth, ready to devour me, makes me shiver. I liked feeling like a hero after I helped drive off the jaguar, but the fight itself was terrifying.

“At least our class doesn’t take field trips,” Ezio quips. “Our main focus will be methods of magical study, as well as the economy of Rifts. While not many brave their depths, the Rifts have likely contributed more to our way of life and our knowledge of magic than anything else we might look at in this course.”

That surprises me. I’ve always thought of the Rifts as sources of chaos and danger. I know they’re full of resources, and it’s fun to dream of finding some incredible treasure trove, but I never realized that they were important academically. I jot down a reminder to talk with Ezio about it more later. I don’t want to distract the class with my curiosity; people already give me enough looks as it is.

“On the board behind me, you’ll see a variety of the most typical layouts for Rifts. Since I’m fond of challenging students to rise to the occasion, I’ll offer prizes for anyone who can tell me which one is which.”

“No cookies for me,” I whisper to Melina. She giggles, caught off guard, then shoots me a side-eyed glare. I blink back innocently. Interrupting class drives her crazy, but I can’t help but tease her sometimes. She takes studying too seriously, considering that we aren’t getting any credit and aren’t joining the SCA.

“Zara, which type of Rift were you in for training?” Ezio asks when no one volunteers an answer.

“We weren’t told. I—I arrived in a blindfold,” Zara says quietly. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to talk about it.”

“Very well. For the sake of time, we’ll move on. There are two main categories of Rifts, at least for the purposes of this course: wild and architected.”

My mind spins as I consider the implications of what Ezio’s implying. My hand goes up before I realize what I’ve done, but Ezio’s sharp eyes don’t miss the movement, and he calls on me while my thoughts are still half-formed. I pull my thoughts together as quickly as I can. “If I understand you correctly, are you implying that Rifts can be built as well as occurring naturally?”

“Correct, Nuri.”

I chew on that for a minute. “Then why don’t we build safe Rifts all over the country? We could vastly increase mana density!”

Zviad snorts so derisively the entire class can hear it. I whip around in my seat to stare at him. What’s his problem?

“Something to add, Zviad?” Ezio asks.

“There’s no such thing as a safe Rift. We can add structures to them, try to tame them, and use them for training, but they’re never predictable. Trying to punch open new holes in the fabric of reality sounds like a great way to unravel the whole thing.”

“True enough. If we had a way to predict Rift openings more specifically, other than a general sense of time and place, or if we knew when they’d disgorge a horde of monsters, then life would be much safer. Wild Rifts are inherently unstable, but [Dimensional Mages] can and have created stable versions—they’re immensely difficult to manage, however.

“Opening a hole is dangerous, as you said. Fixing one that’s open is much easier. We also build inside Rifts and improve their stability. That is usually what’s meant by an architected Rift; to my knowledge we haven’t seen a fully artificial Rift in Densmore in over a century.”

Ezio taps the slate wall behind him with his pen of pure, crystallized mana, emphasizing the images he sketched of a spiraling maze. “Wild or architected?” he asks again in a loud voice amplified by an artifact.

“Architected,” Zviad calls out.

“Correct,” Ezio replies.

“Always am,” Zviad boasts. “But why are we discussing Rifts today? They’re dangerous. That’s all anyone here needs to know. This is an odd topic for a Foundations course. No one in here will ever delve a Rift. No one.”

Ezio frowns. “Zviad, you’re doing a research paper on mana as a means of enhancing physical combat. I thought that you’d be delighted to talk about the greatest proving grounds of our times: Rifts.”

“They’re dangerous. You shouldn’t mess with them,” Zviad retorts, sticking to his talking point from earlier. He’s made it abundantly clear that he thinks we’re wasting time.

“Much of our understanding of magic comes from studying Rifts,” Ezio reminds us. “We discovered wards due to finding runes etched into Rifts, for example.”

“That’s hearsay! We’ve always had wards and enchantments,” Zviad says. “Making it sound like we didn’t know anything before stumbling into those death traps is insulting. We’re a nation of [Mages] and [Soldiers]. We don’t need dangerous magic to teach us how to use our own Classes and Skills.”

“Knowledge is never a waste of time,” Ezio says, his tone growing more clipped. “Even if you’re the most educated person in the world, you still won’t know everything. Some Rifts are crude, that’s true. But we’ve learned more about mana manipulation from Rifts than anything else. Reviewing them doesn’t hurt.”

“Disagree. This is boring me to tears. That’s a crime in itself,” Zviad says, getting bolder and more belligerent the longer the conversation drags on. He’s usually respectful to Ezio, even if he treats the rest of us arrogantly, but today’s lecture seems to have struck a nerve.

What’s his problem?

“Perhaps you’d like to lead the discussion on Rifts?” Ezio asks. His voice is mild, but there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes. “If it’s boring, then you’ll have only yourself to blame.”

Zviad’s tight-lipped scowl intensifies even further. I didn’t know it was possible for him to look more miserable than he already is, but he proves me wrong. He stalks to the front, picks up an enchanted pen, and steps up to the board. “Could do this in my sleep. What’s the point, old man?”

Next to me, Melina clicks her tongue. Mild-mannered as she is, she still has limits. Now she’s glaring at Zviad for his rudeness, too. Something’s definitely gotten him riled up.

Ezio nods at Zviad. “Then, please, by all means, show us what a Labyrinth looks like in a recursive circular Rift.”

Zviad hesitates.

“An architected variety, clearly.”

“L-labyrinths aren’t accepted as architected. Only Rifts we’ve stabilized are architected. You shouldn’t be spreading such nonsense,” Zviad says, but his voice wavers. Now that he’s up front, he seems less sure of himself.

“Why not? The Abyssal Monarchs made them. They’re extraordinarily stable. I can tell you for a fact that their skill with interdimensional construction is more advanced than ours. ”

“Monsters don’t create anything,” Zviad sneers, seeming to find his footing again.

“Not monsters,” Ezio corrects. “The truth of the so-called Wraiths is far worse. Our best [Scholars] and [Xenobiologists] have concluded that the creatures we popularly term as Wraiths are beings of extreme order and cold rationality. Far from crazed beasts, they’re clear-minded and singular in their purpose: creating order out of chaos. And seizing control of our realms is key to their grand designs.”

“Then why do they attack people on sight?” Zviad demands.

Ezio stares down Zviad. “Do you leave a venomous snake alive inside your house?”

“We’re not snakes. That’s not the same thing,” Zviad protests, his face growing even stormier .

“Why not? Are you so certain that you’re the superior life form?” Ezio asks, warming to his lecture. “Wraiths likely have a more advanced understanding of energy than we do.”

“According to the [Mage] guild, they’re vicious, antagonistic, and should be considered a high-Silver threat in small packs. If any of their Lords or Captains are around, then it’s Gold ranked or even a high-Gold threat by itself, with an entire squadron rated at low Platinum,” Zviad shoots back. “They try to kill us on sight. We return the favor.”

Ezio shakes his head. “Yet they behave differently inside the Rifts, when operating with proper levels of energy. Outside, when exploring, they seem to suffocate in our realm.”

“Oh, please. The [Mages] guild thoroughly debunked that report. Can you list one sanctioned [Researcher] who contributed to that report?”

Ezio’s smile grows brittle. “Verifying sources is wise. I am certainly not infallible or above questioning. You will do well to remember that this is my class, however, not yours.”

Zviad pauses. His brows knit together. “You said I should teach the class. Why, if you’re just going to take over?”

“Intellectual humility is an admirable trait. You should try it sometime,” Ezio says.

That shuts up Zviad.

“When you spew nonsense, and show no willingness to learn, then you lose the privilege of displaying what you know,” Ezio continues. “I agree we should vet information and ensure we are as accurate as possible. This is not one of those times, however. I will freely admit that the study I’ve referenced is still under heavy review, and as yet unpublished, but I assure you that the information contained therein comes from someone of unimpeachable integrity; there is no doubt about the conclusion.”

“Based on what?” Zviad demands. “A few fragments of maps from half-crazed survivors of the void’s madness?” He snorts. “I’ve heard plenty about it from my father.”

Ezio ignores him. He smiles at the other students. “As a matter of fact, you’re not far off. I’ve got an expert scheduled to join us today who’s surveyed more Rifts than anyone in history. Some of you may have heard of him before. Please join me in welcoming today’s guest lecturer: Tem Cytekin.”

I almost fall out of my chair in shock. Tem’s going to be here? In my class? While I’m still getting my bearings, Ezio begins a round of applause, and the class follows his lead, even if most people look bewildered.

Ezio turns toward the empty stage and nods. Without so much as a glimmer of mana or a ripple in space and time, Tem simply appears. He inclines his head, and the clapping falters for a moment before redoubling.

Everyone stares, stunned by the casual display of high-level magic. We’ve grown used to Ezio using minor illusions, but hiding a person in plain sight is no small feat. Even now, Tem gives off no mana signature. It’s a masterclass in mana manipulation, although I wish I could see what he’s doing to accomplish that level of control. I really need to learn [Manasight] or a variation thereof.

“This is preposterous!” Zviad’s simmering annoyance finally overflows. Hot indignation transmutes into anger, and he’s found an outlet: Tem Cytekin, modern day hero of Densmore.

Zviad crosses his arms. “I was warned not to take this class because it would show up on my permanent record, you know. My Uncle assured me that Ezio is a nationally published [Scholar], but my father was worried. I should have listened to the barrack [Quartermaster] when he told me to stay away; there are rumors about this disgrace of a teacher. I thought it was all just sour grapes because we took the [Quartermaster]’s friend’s spot at the fort.”

The young aristocrat raises his voice further, glaring between Ezio and Tem. “Now I have to share a study group with a crafter who’s still an assistant despite being years older than I am. And if that’s not bad enough, we’re about to be lectured to by a known traitor!”

“That’s enough.” Ezio snaps his fingers when Zviad opens his mouth to argue further. A soap-like bubble appears around the loud young man, cutting off the sound coming from the incensed student. It’s the most overt display of mana manipulation I’ve seen Ezio use in the classroom. Usually, he just makes colorful rows of letters appear on the board. This is far more advanced magic.

A flash of anger crosses Zviad’s face. Silenced by Ezio’s temporary sound barrier, Zviad can’t do anything other than gesture in impotent rage, however.

Ezio walks up to Zviad, expanding the bubble of silence around him with a wave of his hand. Even though we can’t hear him, Ezio puts his head close to the student’s ear, murmuring something and covering his own mouth so that no one can try to read his lips.

By the time he’s done talking, Zviad is calm again. There’s still a tightness in his eyes that betrays his fury, but he masters his emotions in an impressive display of discipline. Now that he’s not sneering or shouting, the bubble recedes, leaving him free to participate again. He leans back in his seat, looking sullen.

I wonder what they talked about. That thought is almost instantly displaced by the next thought: That’s Tem Cytekin up there! Never once in my life did I ever expect that I’d be in the same room as Tem Cytekin. Not only is he here in Silaraon, but he’s guest-teaching our class.

“What’s the rule on treasure recovered from a Rift?” Tem asks abruptly. If he’s perturbed by Zviad’s outburst, he doesn’t show it. His gaze seems to scan the entire class at once. I don’t sense any mana use from him, but that’s to be expected. He’s a genius at masking his mana use and overall level of power, according to his biographies. I’ve always wondered how much of the stories were made up, but right now I don’t doubt a single word.

Zara raises her hand and receives a nod. She stands up, straightening her uniform. She swallows twice before she gets the words out—I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look intimidated before. “Anything able to fit in a standard knapsack is generally permissible for private use, with the exception of a Gold-ranked beast core or higher. They must be registered with the state as soon as an explorer returns from a delve.”

“How is private use defined?” Tem asks.

“Uhh, personal display or research. You can’t sell it, I believe,” Zara says. She sits down abruptly and busies herself with arranging her notebook on the desk.

Tem nods slowly. He takes off his hat, tosses it into the corner—where it lands perfectly on the wingback of an easy chair—and clasps his hands behind him. “So, non-commercial ventures. That seems like it’s left open for interpretation.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Zviad interjects, not waiting to be called on. He shifts in his seat, staring down at Tem like he’s ready to jump down and fight. “Failure to report a resource or core will land you in a world of trouble.”

“Spoken like a true son of the Royal Army,” Tem says. His voice is as mild as ever, but his eyes grow sharp as looks at Zviad. “Quoting your father?”

Zviad clenches his fists. “What’s your point? I can make up my own mind. Why are we even studying Rifts? They’re dangerous and unpredictable. The sooner we close the rest of them up, the safer Densmore will be.”

“Ah, is that so?” Tem asks. He strokes his smooth jaw, regarding Zviad with a curious gaze. “What do you think that Rifts do, young man?”

Zviad glares back in challenge. “They’re chaotic collections of energy that punch holes in the fabric of our world and disgorge enemies.”

Tem nods. “That’s what you think they are. Granted, it’s a somewhat accurate answer, if incomplete. I know your view of Rifts. But that’s not what I asked. I asked what they do.”

I glance over at Melina, hoping she knows the answer. For all that I used to pretend to fight monsters when I was a kid—who hasn’t imagined being a hero?—I never stopped to ask what a Rift does. I feel a little bit better about myself when I see a similarly blank look on her face. She’s just as confused as I am.

“Rifts serve a purpose, young man. They gather latent energy from the ether and turn it into mana. Without them opening up in the world, the mana density of our plane would plummet to dangerous levels. We don’t know how to use other energy sources.”

“Rubbish,” Zviad scoffs. “I just came from the capital. There wasn’t too much change in mana density on the way. If the borderlands are full of Rifts, then why is it the same out here?”

“Excellent question. Any speculation?”

Aditi raises her hand, which is no surprise to me. “The Rifts out here are categorized as Lesser Rifts. We would expect less mana from them, accordingly. The ancient Rifts in the capital region are of the Greater variety. Even after sealing them, they leak considerable mana into the ambient environment.”

“That is certainly part of it,” Tem says. “But the fact of the matter is that numerous Rifts are maintained on purpose. Closing them would remove valuable natural resources, take away training grounds for elite forces, and slowly starve the capital region of mana.”

Zviad finches in the seat. I probably should be paying closer attention to Tem, but I can't help but watch the military brat to see his reactions. Something about this topic seems to have him on edge. Instead of his usual abrasive self, he acts almost terrified—and angry.

He’s hiding something.

“Densmore's relationship with Rifts is complicated,” Tem continues. “They are both boon and bane. Managing monster incursions and fending off large scale invasions is paramount to our national safety. During my time serving as a forward [Scout] in the irregular brigade, I delved more than one hundred Rifts. I won’t deny the dangers they pose, or the difficulty in keeping our population safe while they remain open. Yet we rely on them for our wealth. It is no accident that nations with fewer Rifts also possess less military might and magical prowess. Densmore is the dominant nation predominantly due to our plentiful Rifts.

“While I can’t divulge state secrets here, suffice it to say that many of the technological advances of the past century are directly related to discoveries within Rifts. We owe much of our understanding of magic and energy manipulation to the denizens of the Rifts.”

He condenses a mana pen, walks to the wall-sized board behind the stage, and scrawls out a set of names. Each one is a major city in Densmore; even I know that, and geography is far from my strong suit.

Tem taps on the board. He turns to face the class, lifts his hand, and recalls his hat from its resting spot on the back of his chair. One again, there’s no ripple of mana use at all, despite the clear energy involved. He puts it back on his head, tilting it back and forth twice until it’s at a suitably jaunty angle. “So, who can tell me what these cities have in common?”

I have no idea, so I watch behind me to see if the other students know the answer. Jahn raises his hand, grinning in his easy way. He launches into a speech right away, not waiting to be called on. His confidence is something else. “They’re the ten largest cities in all of Densmore! I remember memorizing that in my histories of the modern empire course back home. Have you visited them? I’ve heard the beaches are excellent on the coast.”

“Correct, but why are they the largest cities? How does this relate?”

In the silence that follows, Tem chuckles. “You have a good starting point. I’m pushing you on this since I want you to learn to ask about the underpinnings of reality. Don’t overthink it. If you don’t know the answer, Ezio will be happy to clear things up.”

A few chuckles ripple through the class, and when Ezio lifts up both hands and gives Tem a look of mock annoyance, the tiny seeds of amusement bloom into a full grown forest of laughter. Our teacher cracks a mischievous smile, joining in on the joke with good humor.

Ezio strides out to the middle of the room to join his friend. “Thank you for that, Tem. I certainly will be happy to clarify.” He clears throat. “Each of those cities were originally Royal Army camp settlements that became permanent. They were founded on top of the largest Rifts ever delved in Densmore’s history. Most of them remain active and heavily guarded, although the official word is that they’re closed.”

“How come I’ve never heard of that before?” Aditi demands. She brushes her long hair out of her eyes and tucks several strands behind her left ear, twirling it nervously.

“I know you’ve had excellent tutors, but depending on their alignment, they may not want to dig into ancient history. It presents some uncomfortable dilemmas for the [Mages] of today.”

Whispers buzz through the class like wind rustling autumn leaves. No one dares speak up at first, but I finally raise my hand. “Could you explain why the Utility faction is pushing so hard to close Rifts, in that case?”

“Politics are probably best left outside of the purview of this class, but safety is the public goal,” Ezio says after a long deliberation. His jaw flexes, and for a moment I get the sense that he wants to say something else, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to blunder into a sensitive topic. Could you talk about where Rifts come from, instead?” I venture to ask.

Something about that question must be hilarious, because Ezio bursts out laughing.

“Forgive me! I’m not making fun of you, Nuri. In fact, I appreciate the way you’re thinking about the information. You’re asking good questions to understand things more deeply. Yet the answer is bitterly contested. In fact, it may be the only topic more political than your previous question!”

“There’s nothing political about it,” Zviad snaps, no longer bothering to raise his hand to speak. He stands up, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Monsters don’t build. Chaos gives birth to horror. That’s all there is to it.”

“Well, that settles it,” Ezio says mildly. “Class dismissed!”

=+=

A mob of students presses around Ezio and Tem after class finishes. My treacherous feet take me toward the pair, even though my instincts are to give them space. I want to talk with Tem as much as anyone, but I’ll ask Ezio for an introduction later. I’m more likely to make progress if I wait until my next meeting with my mentor.

Besides, there’s an uncomfortable shock of heat from the crowd. Everyone’s excited, which elevates their heart rates, and I’m tempted to modulate it with my [Heat Manipulation]. I’m sure that would be frowned upon, but I’m not happy with the close quarters.

To my surprise, Ezio calls my name as Melina and I prepare to return to the studio. “Ah, my provisional trainees! Come, join us in my office. My friend Tem would like to hear more about your research project.”

Envious mutters ripple through the crowd. I studiously ignore them, breaking out into an enormous grin. I can’t help myself. Tem Cytekin himself, the only [Expert Counterspell Scout] in the known world, wants to meet with me. Me.

Melina nudges me. “Go on, Nuri. You have fun. I’ll finish your orders for the day.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Mel. I won’t be long,” I say, but she cuts me off.

“You’ve been dreaming about a moment like this since you were little. Don’t take away my satisfaction at doing you a favor. If you really feel guilty, then you can pay me back when I need help someday.”

I stick out my hand. “Deal.”

Our bargain struck, we part ways. I wave at Melina and dash after Ezio, trying to keep up with his infamous movement Skill. This time, I can’t catch up. No matter how fast I run, they’re always a few steps ahead. Corners are particularly bad; they disappear entirely.

By the time I reach Ezio’s office, panting from my sprint, I’m positive that Ezio is doing it on purpose. I take a moment in the hallway to catch my breath and collect myself, hoping I don’t smell too bad after working up a sweat on the way over. Before I can overthink things, I knock at Ezio’s door, ready to meet Tem Cytekin.

“I should warn you,” Tem says as soon as I shut the door behind me, “I live up to all of my stories—except for the interesting ones.”

I blink rapidly, trying to find something witty to say in response, and settle for shaking his outstretched hand and taking a seat. “Considering I think they’re all interesting, I suppose that I have to start from a blank slate. I’m Nuri, an [Assistant Glassworker] with an interest in magic.”

“Tem. [Scout] and dabbler in more hobbies than is healthy. What’s the story with the glass armor that’s neither enchanted nor imbued? I’m intrigued.”

“Ohh, uh, it’s just a theory,” I say, practically tripping over my words. “We think that if we can copy the structure of mother of pearl, we can vastly improve the kinetic properties of glass. I’m not even the one really driving the research. That’s Melina, my classmate, but she’s the responsible one, so she went back to the hot shop. I’m the one slacking off so that I can meet you.”

“Honesty is endearing, but too much can ruin a first impression,” Tem says with a soft chuckle. “But I’m pleased to meet you. Ezio says you’re diversifying into mana manipulation and combat skills. I often meet crafters with martial aspirations, but I’ve never met one who built an automaton for training. Usually, I tell people to give up before they get hurt. It’s not as rewarding of a life as you think. Scholars and crafters are far more likely to enjoy a normal lifespan.”

I wet my lips, suddenly finding my mouth dry. I’m too nervous to speak. “I think I’ll trade a quiet retirement for decades of adventure. Besides, I don’t know a single person in the Second Threshold. You’re the first one I’ve met. I don’t think I’ll get there by making cups and bowls.”

“Probably not,” Tem agrees easily. He strokes his jaw. “But humor me. What will you do with your advancement when you get there?”

The simple question leaves me poleaxed. My mind searches for words, but I come up empty, spluttering at the unexpected turn. “I want to be strong enough to protect my friends,” I finally get out, pleased with my altruistic answer.

“One of my closest friends died in less than a second. About ten years ago, we were on a mission in—well, that’s not important. I was standing right next to him. Never saw it coming. Me, one of the highest-level [Scouts] in Densmore,” Tem says. His voice is quiet, intense as he relates the details. “A natural gas pocket had formed beneath the ground of the Rift we were exploring. He casually blew aside a few Silver monsters with a blast of fire, and the sparks ignited the gas. The explosion blew us apart, leaving me singed since I had a barrier artifact. He didn’t make it. Yet he was further into the Second than I am now.”

I sit very still, processing the story. “Are you saying that it’s pointless? Or are you saying that my motivation isn’t enough?”

Tem shrugs his slim shoulders. “Protecting people is noble. But what are you going to do if you hit the Second Threshold as a crafter? Build stronger windows? Give them barrier artifacts and hope they don’t run into trouble twice in the same day?”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” I admit.

Tem smiles sadly. “Don’t pay me too much mind. The ramblings of a bitter old man. But I suppose I’m saying that you shouldn’t wait until some future milestone to do what you think is right. Don’t get so caught up in numbers that you lose sight of what’s important to you. Some of the best people I know never even had enough Potential to awaken their mana. They still lived full and wonderful lives.”

This is not how I expected my meeting with my hero would go. I’m off balance, unsure that I have enough experience to offer any meaningful response. Sorting through my thoughts, I settle on a question that seems to cut to the heart of the matter. “Would you give up your power in exchange for anything?”

“Peace of mind,” Tem replies instantly. “If I had the chance to start my life over again but retain my knowledge, then I’d take a different path. But we’re past that, unfortunately.”

Nodding slowly, I chew on Tem’s words. “That makes sense. But if I can give my friends better chances at surviving by creating glass armor, then don’t you think that leads to peace of mind? I just have to be stronger to do it.”

Ezio pats me on the shoulder. “Rakesh showed me some of your prototypes. They seem promising.”

“Thanks. We’re still missing something, though. They don’t absorb impact the way I was expecting,” I say, drumming my fingers on my knee. “Could use some guidance.”

“Maybe a field test,” Ezio suggests.

“Ah, is that what this is about?” Tem asks. He chuckles, giving Ezio a sly look. “Sneaky old dog. I know a setup when I see one! Very well, I accept.”

“Wait, you’ll help me test it?” I ask, struggling to contain my excitement. “Are you sure that you have time for that?”

Tem shakes his head. “Not exactly. Sounds like you need more iterations before it’s up to my standards. In the meantime, Nuri, how would you like a small sample of my life? Let’s head out into the wilderness. I’ll show you what it’s really like to be a [Scout].”

Ezio claps once, making me jump. “Brilliant idea! Don’t worry about your research, Nuri. Melina can write the paper. This is hands-on experience. Priceless! I’m sure that Ember would agree, since you want to walk the path of both an artisan and an adventurer.”

My enthusiasm for the idea grows. Training with Tem Cytakin will stretch me and push me beyond my limits, but I look forward to the challenge. “I’ll do it. Come what may. I suppose it’s time to reintroduce myself. Nuri Shahi, [Assistant Glassworker] and mage aspirant.”

“Tem Cytakin, [Expert Counterspell Scout], provisional Instructor, at your service. I’d be happy to show you how to survive,” Tem re-introduces himself with a precise bow.

We clasp hands, and the pledge is struck. I’m going on an adventure!