Jace stared through the viewscreen until his eyes hurt, watching the white light and the occasional pale gold whorls. “I need to train,” he said, still staring forward. “I can’t just spend the whole journey staring off into hyperspace.”

If he didn’t do something, his thoughts would catch up with him, and he’d have to start processing things. He didn’t know if he could do that right now, and he didn’t want to find out.

Kinfild flicked a switch on the wall beside him. The Luna Wrath chimed, then let out an electric whir. “She’ll survive for a few hours if I leave her alone. First, let’s deal with that arm, shall we?” Kinfild pointed at the wound that Jace had earned fighting the giant fox.

The three of them left the cockpit and walked back into the central hold of the starship—to the seating area. “Wait here,” Kinfild instructed. He stepped over the fallen plant and the cracked pot. “I’ll get a new one next time I’m in Phélese space, I suppose.” Then he marched to the stern and disappeared into the engine room.

Jace sat down on the fabric seat. He folded his hands together and leaned his head back, then let his chest deflate.

“We’re gonna be heading into Koedor-Terginia!” Lessa bubbled.

Jace looked back up again. “Hm?”

“The Koedor-Terginian Empire! They’re a star-nation, and one of the oldest. And that’s where the Aisèn system is located.”

Jace rolled his lips inward. “I still can’t get over the fact that everything isn’t united under a single empire.”

“Look, look.” Lessa leaned forwards and set her hands on the table. “This thing is a holoprojector…just, it’s—oh, here!” She pressed a button under the table. A puff of steam shot out, then, in the center of the table, a hologram appeared. It was made of pure white light, and whenever a particle of dust seeped into it, it flashed magenta for a moment. The projection was a three-dimensional depiction of the galaxy—a massive spiral, with a bright core and seven spiral arms. Each star was a miniature speck.

“A map! We’re here, I think.” Lessa pointed at the only patch of purposeful colour on the map. It was a bright orange triangle that drifted through the spiral arm closest to the Jace. It barely inched along, even if it was travelling faster than light.

Jace had read plenty about the scale of space, but only now did it truly dawn on him how large everything was.

Lessa stood up and dragged her arm through the hologram—along a solid band of dim light that divided the galaxy into nearly twenty different parcels of stars. Her finger stopped in the largest swath, which occupied about a third of the map. Currently, their starship flew through it. “This is the Starrealm of Artanor. It’s the most powerful of the Fifteen Empires.” Then, her finger drifted to one of the smaller ones that bordered on it. “And this would be the Koedor-Terginian Empire, where we’re headed. She looked at a smaller holographic compass projected just beside the map. “We’re going to the Galactic East.”

Jace stared at the map for a second. Most of the nations were still arranged on a cardinal plane, and the Starrealm was the furthest west of the nations. But beyond the Starrealm’s western border was a swath of dimly lit planets and stars—two spiral arms’ worth of them. He pointed at it. “What’s that?”

“Those…those are the Unknown Realms,” Lessa said. “Not a nation. Dark things come from there. Most of the planets there have been overrun by darklings, orcs, and other demons.”

Jace swallowed. At least, for now, they were flying away from it.

“Not to worry,” Lessa said. “The Starrealm guards it well. There’s a wall, and the Watchmen keep all the nasty things out of the galaxy.” She scampered over and tapped the hilt of his sword. “The Watchmen even make their own Whistling Blades!”

Kinfild emerged from the engine room, carrying a tin case painted white. “Medpack.” He set the tin down on the table and turned the holographic map off. “Geography lesson, Ms. Kendine?”

“I know more about it than him,” Lessa mumbled. She dropped back down on the bench and crossed her arms. “Still a crusty old wizard.”

“Be thankful I didn’t toss you out the airlock—you aren’t the worldjumper, after all.” Kinfild turned back toward Jace. “Now, let’s see about your arm.” He flipped open the lid of the medpack, revealing syringes, scissors, bandages, and vials of mysterious substances. Some glowed red, and some were so dark they sucked the light out of their surroundings. A small ball of wires and tubes sat in the center, with a single mechanical eye—just like Aur-Six’s.

Kinfild picked up the ball of wires and flipped a switch on its side. It whirred. A gear spun on its side, then a spark of electricity popped out of the bottom. It lifted up out of Kinfild’s hand and hovered.

“This is a first-aid kyborg,” Kinfild explained. “It has grade-zero sapience. It will only treat you for what it can based on its programming, and it can’t even speak Mekanik.”

Stolen story; please report.

Jace took his bandages off, and with a wince, held his arm out to the floating ball. Hopefully, it wasn’t temperamental like Aur-Six.

The first-aid kyborg hovered toward Jace. It scanned his arm up and down with a holographic beam, then beeped in a soothing tone. Two spindly arms extended from its body. First, it sprayed the wound with a white mist. It stung, but that probably meant it was working.

“How did you get that wound?” Kinfild asked.

Jace didn’t know how to describe it, let alone to tell Kinfild how they had encountered the beast in the first place. Thankfully, Lessa piped up. “It was a darkling. A larger, more powerful one. But he killed it.”

Jace opened his mouth, but the first-aid kyborg injected him with a blue fluid, and the sting distracted him. Moments later, his arm went numb—just in time for the robot to begin suturing the gash shut.

“You were attacked by a darkling? During the daytime?” Kinfild’s eyes went wide.

Lessa shrugged. “We…we did kinda fall into a ravine.”

“Kind of fell?” Kinfild demanded.

“We did fall,” she conceded. “All the way to the dark bottom.”

“I see…” Kinfild leaned back against the seat. “You had me concerned for a moment. More concerned.” He looked back at Jace. “You…you killed it, then?”

“We killed it, yeah,” Jace said.

“You probably have a few Attribute Shards to distribute, then,” said Kinfild. “Would you like help with that?”

Lessa stood up and inserted herself between them. “Jace already distributed two. He put one in Vital and one in Resistance, and—oh, sorry…” She trailed off, then stepped back. “He’s gonna get himself on a durability-focussed Path, by the looks of it.”

The first aid kyborg finished tying off the last suture wire. It returned to Kinfild’s hand and powered down. Just to be safe, Jace wrapped another bandage around the wound again. It didn’t hurt anymore, but only because it was completely numb.

Jace said, “I suppose I should assign the rest of the shards, then?”

Kinfild nodded. “There’s no reason to hold onto them.”

“Do I have to sleep to use them?” It was barely afternoon by Lyvarion time, and he doubted he could calm himself down enough to sleep.

“You must meditate to use them; all Wielders can enter the dreamspace plane, though few will ever have as much innate control of it as you do—we do not distribute Attribute Shards like you do. Concentrate on your power, think about the sapling, and you will drag yourself in. But…you may still want to lie down.”

Kinfild pointed at a set of bunk beds embedded in the wall. The mattresses were blocky and utilitarian, but it was better than nothing. “Remember, though: using the shards is not an alternative to proper training. They assist your body, but they are not a crutch. They will tell your body where to progress and help push beyond your natural limits, but you will not gain strength without exercise. And they will help you exceed the limits of your form—even the most slender person could lift mountains with a high enough Strength attribute.”

“What does each Attribute do?” he asked.

“Vital makes your skin, flesh, and bones more durable. Strength is how much raw power your muscles output. Agility is how fast your muscles react to commands. Resistance is how difficult your footing is to break and how hard it is to place curses on you, and Potency is the opposite—how easy it is to place curses and break an opponent’s stance.”

Jace nodded and slipped into the bunk. He turned his back to the bright cabin, then shut his eyes and centered his thoughts on his magic and what he needed to do to progress. He wasn’t exactly sure how to meditate, or what that meant, but he tried to take slow breaths and calm everything.

His mind shut off. Time passed, but he didn’t know how much.

Then visions began to whirl in his mind like snowflakes. The images faded into streaks, then he fell down to the empty, muddy plane. Fresh dirt squished beneath his boots, and he breathed in clean air. The sapling still stood in the distance. He walked toward it.

When he drew within a few meters, roots slithered out of the mud, again forming a map of his body. Four glowing gold crystals laid beside it—the Attribute Shards. He laid two on the root-map’s gut for Vital, then two more on the head for Resistance, and the last two, he placed on top of the legs. They soaked into the ground, and the roots shifted slightly.

Again, Jace’s body altered itself to fit the adjustments he’d made. He recognized the shifting durability ceiling, and he recognized the tingle in the back of his neck. There was another, though: his muscles felt slightly more responsive. That was the doing of Agility, he supposed.

After that, Jace forced his eyes open, dragging himself out of the vision. He sat up, nearly hitting his head on the bunk above.

Kinfild was busy cleaning up the spilled mud and shattered pot, and Lessa stood nearby, leaning against the wall. She smiled briefly, then said, “So that’s what it looks like, huh?”

Jace stopped. He opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say.

“It’s part of the candlefolk package deal,” said Lessa. “If you’re in one of your visions, I can see what you’re seeing.”

He scowled, but couldn’t think of the right words to say, so he didn’t say anything. He sat back down on the bottom bunk, then crossed his arms.

“It’ll be helpful!” Lessa exclaimed. “I swear! If you get lost or stuck, we can pull you out! And if we send you into a Vault, it’ll help!”

“We still have ten hours before we arrive at Aisèn Secundus,” Kinfild said. “That means we have time to practice Aes control, or exercise, or proper rest—or all three.”

“How about all three?” Jace asked.

“What if you taught him a cycling pattern?” Lessa asked.

Kinfild stroked his beard, then nodded. “Indeed, I could—that would help him with his Aes control. If he helps me clean up this mud, then yes, I will teach him a proper Aes circulation pattern.” He looked directly at Jace. “Deal?”

Everyone here thought in transactions. He’d have to play along if he wanted to get what he wanted.

“It’s a deal,” he said, then jumped up to his feet. “Got a broom?”