Four days later, Xander’s breath condensed on the cool glass of the carriage window. The gentle rocking had lulled him to sleep, and he sat up, rolling his neck to work out the kinks that had formed from sleeping in such an awkward position. The woman next to him, about Xander’s age, gave him a sympathetic nod.

Markus had given him a very simple answer to that last question. He had to be in Goldbloom Township by the end of the week. To aid in his travel, Markus had given him two final... not gifts, exactly. Xander was still Broken, gifts would be unacceptable. Markus called them investments, which was probably more accurate but didn’t sound quite right to Xander’s ears. The first was some copper shells, the most basic currency. Enough for Xander to take care of food and clothes and to pay for transportation, Markus had said. The amount of shells he’d given for those basic needs made it clear that Markus had worn that gold medallion for some time, and had lost track of how much things cost for normal people - if he’d ever known. By bing frugal, Xander could make his way to Goldbloom on a tenth of what Markus had given him.

Xander had protested, but Markus had waved it away. Having fulfilled the minimum demands of honor, Xander hadn’t pushed further.

The second investment had been the medallion that now nestled against Xander’s chest. A simple circle of white marble, it was heavier than any that Xander had worn in the past. There were scripts carved into the back, and the front had a symbol to show he was Unranked - together, they made him look like the disciple of some prestigious school who had not yet completed the most basic training.

Which, Xander supposed, was close enough to the truth. He still had to pass the Trials of Entrance like all schools, but it was not uncommon for Academies to give their prospective disciples a mark so they could travel with some respect. That wasn’t the important part of the medallion, although it had eased his passage some. Among those who were in Stone or Steel, medallions let them know where they stood respective to each other, and where those above them stood. It wasn’t until the Ivory rank that it was possible to look at someone’s system information, what was formally known as the Sheet of Characteristics and Statistics but more commonly referred to as a stat sheet, or just ‘stats’. It was what made the Broken so identifiable, and impossible for them to hide their shame in the way the other Wretched did. One glance from an Ivory, and they would see what Xander was.

Except not now. The medallion protected him from anyone who would try.

He reached up to grab the medallion, the comfort of its weight a reminder he was free of the constraints of his status. As if seeking confirmation, Xander’s flicked his eyes for only the seventh time today, bringing up his information.

Private. Further investigation subject to penalty by Imperial Decree.

Imperial decrees were one small step below divine decrees. Anyone who saw it would have to be suicidal to push past the script and see that Xander was Broken, as much as Xander would have to be suicidal to wear a faked version of that. There were privacy stones that were backed by Houses or Clans or even the Judges of the Tribes, and those were less risky to fake. A Broken wearing one of those would be executed on the spot, of course, but others could risk it with less consequence. An Imperial Penalty, however...no one would question that, save designated imperial enforcers who would check its veracity. One of them had already approached Xander once, and his heart had hammered as the woman had gently ran her finger along the back of the medallion before returning it to Xander without a word, stretching dragonfly wings of woven, incandescent power and returning to the sky.

It had enabled him to travel freely, and allowed the Vulnerable and the Forged to interact with Xander without staining their souls.

Speaking of souls, four days of being back in civilization had done wonders for Xander’s. When Markus had left, Xander half expected to spend the time travelling with a dark cloud hanging over his head, jumping at every shadow, and weighed down with the belief that at any moment he’d wake up back in the Inner Wilds.

To his delight, it had been easy to focus on his good fortune. His Crucible had heightened his awareness of danger, but so had his ability to tell what was a threat and what was just an idle sound. Everything around him did have a dreamlike feeling, but in the Inner Wilds you quickly learn to separate imagining from reality. As for his grief over what he’d never get back? That had been burned out of him after one day of hunger. Pragmatism was far stronger than sorrow in Xander these days.

The Crucible. Already, Xander could see the value of his time in the Inner Wilds. Not that he would ever want to return to living like that, of course. But any bitterness he might have felt was swept away by what awaited him.

He leaned his head against the window to try to see how close they were. Markus had given him five days to make the trip, so Xander had planned to arrive in four. Right now, all he could see were the other carriages stretching forward, although he couldn’t see far to the side. They were in the Empire proper now, close to the outer territories. The sparse, ancient trees of the Inner Wild were gone here, and the sides of their road instead had dense, younger forests that were growing in their presence. In centuries, if no one cut this growth again, they would return to the primeval forest of the Inner Wilds. Now that he had the prospect of a Path again, Xander might live long enough to see that happen.

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Craning his neck a bit, Xander could make out one more detail. The vast grey mass of a hairless beast hide that was attached the front carriage, with a covered houdah so large it may as well be a home on its back. The aurophant that pulled the carriages and the platform that held its handlers. Nearly the height of twenty men standing on each other’s shoulders, the aurophant was the largest beast of the Inner Wilds by a good margin. Their overwhelming size and strength, aided by the four powerful trunks that stretched down to grab food off the ground, meant aurophants had no fear of any Inner Wild predator. Even powerful spirit warriors could barely harm them. This combination made them placid, and they were happy to pull humans along in exchange for sacred fruit they would struggle to find on their own. They could walk for days without rest, at speeds close to a human’s jog, and the trains they lead on their journeys were the lifeblood of the Empire.

This one had crossed from one side of the Empire to another, a journey of nearly a thousand miles, in four days, with stops to load and unload passengers along the way. Of course, that was only possible with the power reinforcing the carriages they were riding. If not for that, the carts would have shaken to pieces days ago. As it was, they were not only strong enough to endure the tremendous forces exerted on it, but to remain relatively smooth throughout. This particular aurophant’s path mostly went by small villages, and Xander had chosen it because it had so few stops.

Xander’s knuckles started to ache, and he looked down to realize he was still clutching the marble medallion like a child holding their blanket. Well. Maybe he had more lingering doubts than he felt. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the woman next to him. She was also staring at his hand.

Xander hadn’t paid her much mind so far, but now gave her more attention. She had the sun darkened skin of a laborer, but a thin and wiry build that didn’t match that profession. Her raven black hair was tucked back in a bun behind her head, but he could see the frayed ends of her hair that indicated it had been cut roughly. She wore a simple, undyed outfit much like his. It was her eyes that really drew his attention, though. They were a pale green, almost jade, which marked her as a descendant of the fifth Tribe, but more than that was the sunken look to them. A look that Xander recognized.

He’d seen it reflected in the window just moments before.

Hesitantly, the woman reached up and pulled her own medallion out of her tunic. It was marble, with the Unranked symbol on the front. Xander pulled his own out, showing her both front and back. A smile split the woman’s face, and Xander responded in kind.

“Lilyn,” she said, offering him a small seated bow of the correct depth between equals. Xander responded in kind, both with the name and the bow.

“Goldbloom?” she asked, and when he nodded she pressed again. “I was told to arrive tomorrow. I wanted to be early.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Xander said. He was certain now. She was on the same Path as him. He gestured towards her medallion, finally letting go of his medallion so it could fall back against his chest. “If I may ask - how long have you had that?”

“A little past a week,” Lilyn said, also letting hers fall and rolling her shoulders to work out some knot that must have formed. She had an accent he couldn’t quite place, but the Imperial tongue was clearly her native language. Neither of them had spent much of their funds on this journey. It had seem unwise. That meant they were in the worst carriage, with seats of uncushioned wood. Not that it bothered two people who had lived in the Inner Wilds much, but that didn’t mean it was comfortable after four days. “I’m still expecting to wake up at any moment.”

Xander had just been thinking about how that wasn’t true for him, but he nodded in understanding - in part because she had said the words almost by rote, as if she knew what she was expected to say here. “I think I expect that as much as you do.”

Lilyn raised an eyebrow, and took a moment to study his face. Whatever she saw there must have pleased her, because she burst out with a peal of friendly laughter. It had been so long since he’d heard another human laugh in honest amusement, Xander couldn’t stop himself from joining her. “So,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Did you grow up choosing your words so carefully, or is that new?”

Tension that Xander hadn’t realized was there faded away. She’d understood his meaning. She knew exactly how he felt. Idly, Xander couldn’t help but wonder if everyone else who survived their Crucible would feel the same about it, or if Lilyn just happened to respond to that Trial in the same way he had. “I grew up in a merchant’s household, and it wouldn’t do to offend the customers.”

Lilyn searched his face for a moment. “I grew up in a sailor’s household,” she said after the pause, and Xander wondered what she’d been looking for. Likely any sign of pain. She would have found none, but now that he was aware of it, he could see it in her eyes. Not all those who survived the Crucible were as comfortable with their losses as he was, it seemed. She pushed the pain aside, and continued ahead. “Like a Destruction cultivator must restrain their aura around the Vulnerable to avoid annihilating the innocent, I will restrain my swears around you to avoid searing your ears from your skull.”

Xander laughed. At least the sailor comment helped him understand the accent. The Empire’s southern tip reached one of the Great Landbound Seas, and her speech marked her as from that region. “The way merchants talk in private is not the same as they do about customers. I make no claim to be able to match a sailor’s tongue, but I may not be as fragile as you think.”

“Still, I’d hate to put that to the test. Markus would likely be quite cross with me if I showed up with a fellow initiate and had to explain why he was now earless,” Lilyn said, an impish gleam to her eyes.

Xander bowed in acknowledgement of her point, getting another light peal of laughter from Lilyn. They lapsed into silence, but it was a comfortable silence. Even their careful way of referring to their pre-Broken life hadn’t brought the tension back. “How close are we?” Lilyn asked, unable to look ahead.

Xander pressed his face against the window again. He could see that the trees were thinning ahead. “I think we might be there soon,” he said. There wouldn’t be farmland. No one farmed this close to the Outer Provinces.

“Good,” Lilyn said, settling back into her chair. “Then I’m going to get some rest, now that someone’s snores won’t keep me awake.” There was a pointed note to that someone, but the smile on her lips made it clear she was simply ribbing him. “Wake me if we arrive before I do?”

“Of course,” Xander said, shocked she could sleep when she heard they were getting close. But before he could express that surprise, she was already asleep.

Which meant she missed it when they cleared the forest and, on the outskirts of Goldbloom, the Ember Academy came into view.