Rich flavours electrify my taste buds as the first spoonful of liquid bliss enters my mouth. Savouring the experience, I allow the intricate, robust broth to spread across the surface of my tongue, instigating a festival of merriment in my mouth. I relish every sensation, extracting every joy from every sip, and every bite and every chew until my bowl nears empty.

They call it beef stew; they lie. They have to be lying. I've sampled stew before. I'm very familiar with its drab taste, watery consistency, and unappealing odour. Whatever this is, it's not beef stew. The thick chunks of tender, aromatic meat bear no resemblance to the dried foodstuff I'm used to. There are potatoes in this, and carrots, and peas. No such thing ever graced Father's caldron when he made us stew.

Bending a soft white roll until it tears in half, I take one side and absorb the remaining liquid in my bowl. Feeling something akin to regret, I finish the rest of my meal.

Looking around the emptying hall, I notice, Emma and I are two of the few remaining people left in the lower-set cafeteria. Other than a few servants cleaning the tables, and a rotund fourth-year I've personally observed eating thrice tonight, all signs of this space having been used for dining is localised to the table I share with the bespectacled girl.

Though, at this moment, she isn't wearing her identifying spectacles. She does have them. They are on her person, but instead of being atop her ears and rested on her nose, the girl has them in the side of her mouth. Softly chewing on the temple tip, Emma mutters inaudible or unintelligible words to herself.

'Is there no way we could take our class?' She finally says loud enough to be heard.

'None', I reply.

'It's already unlikely that there is anyone else in our class who would be willing to take on missions at this stage. Even if there are a few, once they discover we would be unable to contract with guilds and mercenaries, there's little chance they'd agree to come with us. Even if, somehow, that wasn't a deal-breaker, considering the target on my back from killing Wolf, the chances of there being even one person willing to join us, is so small as to be negligible. And, if by some act of Ember himself, someone did choose to join us, I assure you, they would only be a burden.'

'Wouldn't I also be a burden?' Emma asks in a tone not considerably louder than a whisper.

How could she be a burden to me? Who is she that I would allow myself to be burdened by her? Is a mount a burden to its rider? Is a slave a burden to his master? If the cost of the slave's subsistence outstrips its utility, is not the natural result for the slave to then starve?

Not in my most noble moments would I dare dream to take this girl with me if it wasn't to my benefit. I need people I can trust not to betray me as I scale the nearby Tower. She needs guidance and support in taking the risks needed to achieve her goals. Yes, I am using her, but it isn't like she stands to gain nothing. The wave may only capsize her vessel, but the rising tide still lifts both boats.

'So, are you in?' I ask ignoring her question. The girl goes quiet for a moment before replying with a nod.

'But-'

'Don't worry about it, I have that under control', I say, replying to the enquiry on the tip of Emma's tongue. Releasing the air from her lungs in a deep exhale, Emma removes her glasses from her mouth and wears them once more over her sunken brown eyes.

'When do we go?' Emma asks.

'There are still some preparations to attend to. I'll contact you when the time is near. Until then, attend lectures, self-study, and meditate. Do whatever you've been doing till now or do whatever you choose to do, provided you tell no one of our plans.'

Lifting the seat behind me as I crouch, I gently slide the chair backwards and free myself from the long dining table. In three steps, I stand behind the chair. I tilt it on its hind legs and slide it back into place.

'You're not going to wait for me? I'm nearly done, we can walk back to the lower-set dorms together, can't we?' Emma moves to stand. I rest my hand on her shoulder and push her back into her seat.

'I'm not going back to the dorms just yet. There's somewhere I have to be'. Without giving a chance to reply, I distance myself from the table and head towards the exit.

Gentle moonlight greets me as I pass through the doors of the lower-set cafeteria. The campus nigh abandoned, I walk in no particular direction. Feet follow feet in a seemingly aimless trek across the academy grounds.

Passing fewer and fewer people, I make my way from the centre of the academy into a remote section of the campus. All of the grandeur of Sapphire Academy is absent here.

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The scaling architecture and wide paved roads are replaced by modest shacks built on desolate ground.

The Miner's district.

For the nameless hordes unable to pay their contribution to the prosperity of the area in which they were born, being forced into the floors of the Towers and used as manual labour is the only result they could reasonably expect. For Sapphire Academy to hold territory in a Tower, it would be impossible for them to exploit the surrounding resources without the unfortunate miners enslaved to do just that.

Rejection limiting the time mortals and Tension Masters alike are able to spend within the Tower floors, naturally large organisations, such as guilds and academies would have precincts just like these. Places to store their human chattel during the little time they're allowed back on Aspirian soil.

All signs of life absent, I walk alone past the gas lamps and mercifully vacant dilapidated cabins. Time passes by, measured not in ticks or tocks, but in the soft thud of my shoes on the lifeless, black soil. I locate a street hidden between two rows of buildings and turn inside.

It shouldn't be long now. They won't keep me waiting, not when I've gone to the trouble of finding a place with no witnesses. Doubtless, they know I'm waiting for them, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter whether they expect a trap or not. With what I have, they'll have to risk it. The only question is, who's going to go first?

I stand in place unsure as to how much time has passed. Not a sound reaches my ears besides the rhythmic thumping of my own heart. I didn't expect them to be as cautious as they're being. In hindsight, It is only natural, I am, after all, the boy who killed Wolf. No matter how far beneath them they, no doubt, think I am, power is a universal currency, and I've already shown myself wealthy.

Feeling the Tension in my surroundings displaced, my lips curve to a smile.

They're here.

Launching myself face-first at the ground, I catch my fall with my outstretched arms and tuck into a forward roll. The air behind me whistles sharply, the sound and vibration of a heavy crack follow.

I catch a glimpse of pale hair and turn to face the white-haired girl blocking the exit of the alley. With one foot in front of the other, she takes a sideward stance. Charging forward without warning, she throws a palm directed under my nose.

With the back of my wrist, I redirect the girl's attack to the side. Left foot planted firmly on ground, I lift my right foot until my knee is parallel to my stomach. Extending my right leg forward with all the strength my Tension enhanced body permits, my foot connects with her centre.

With a sickening crunch and an audible hiss, all air in her body is expelled from her lungs as she is flung backwards out of the alleyway.

The circumstance of our conflict discourages lethal force on both of our parts. Though, the mutual restriction leans more in my favour. If she should slip up and I should die, what she needs most in the world dies with me. Conversely, If the white-haired girl should fall here, it would only go to show she never had value to me in the first place.

Back on her feet, though visibly shaken, the girl manifests two spears of rapidly rotating water above her shoulders. With a point of her finger, the projectiles bolt towards my legs. I stretch out my arm and generate a barrier of translucent energy intercepting the spears. The barrier shatters under the force of her Art. Without option, I construct barrier after barrier to prevent the spears from reaching me. One after the other, my Arts disperse when struck.

Finally, on the eighth or ninth barrier, the spears of turbulent water dissipate. A single drop of sweat falls from my brow. Before I hear the tap of its landing, the girl resumes her advance against me. My palm blocks her fist; her leg strikes my chest. The girl and I exchange blow after blow. Each of our strikes, blocks and counters enhanced by Tension to the point that I doubt mortal eyes could make sense of them.

Disengaging from the maelstrom of violence, I jump as far backwards as I'm able, creating distance between my assailant and myself. I present my palms in a sign of placation, halting the girl's attack.

'Do you think you're ready to talk now?' I ask as I allow my hands to fall to my side.

'I have only have one thing to say. Give me what I want. Give it to me now. Without reservation, without condition. Give me what I came here for, and I might just let you leave here alive.'

'Counteroffer, listen to what I-' The ground shifts, almost imperceptibly. Leaping forward, I propel myself out of the way of a spike of compact earth that had threatened to impale me. Taking the shocked girl's hand, I drag her with me out of the alley. As we escape the area, spikes proliferate behind us, leaving no part of the street we had just been in unviolated.

Without having to look, I know who has joined us. Solomon Kas; The muscle-bound boy. His arrival here is no surprise. I would have been disappointed had he not shown up. What is a surprise is the deadly force employed against me. I must have miscalculated when I sent him my letter. I had intended for him to be intrigued. I had intended for him to want to know more. I had never intended to spur him on to silence me.

I must have overestimated his desire for power, or perhaps I underestimated his loyalty to his Clan. Either way, the result's the same. What should have been an aggressive, but ultimately toothless confrontation has now become a genuine battle.

'What's going on? Who's there?' The white-haired girl yells. Her shouts are met with bullets of swirling Tension and more earth-grown spikes she barely moves fast enough to avoid.

Out of the alleyway, Solomon walks. With his gauntlet covered right hand, the boy punches the ground. A third wave of spikes burst from the earth in my direction. I stand still as they approach.

Pooling Tension into the four corners of my lower back, I form monstrous tentacles behind me. With a wave of an appendage, the protruding rocks are cleaved in half.

Fire and ice rise inside me competing for dominance. The smouldering compulsion to slay the enemy in front of me is combatted by glacial reasoning coercing me to seek my greatest benefit. Allowing the chill to smother the flame, I dispel my Art and face the boy.

'And that's three', I say. 'Your bound weapon only has three charges, doesn't it?' The gauntlet around the boy's arm vanishes.

'How do you know so much about my Clan's weapon?'

'Can I take that as you being ready to talk?' The boy stands quiet. 'What about you?' I ask the girl this time. She looks into my eyes. I hold her stare. Retreating from a fighting stance, she breaks eye contact.

'What do you want from us?' She finally asks.

'Tabitha Enderich. Solomon Kas...'

'I just want to talk.'