The University in the Fjord was less of a building and more of a small city, surrounded on all sides by grasslands. At the higher elevation the location received more direct sunlight in the summer. The University was at least a thousand years old, and many of the buildings appeared at least that old. Built with magic and reinforced with ethersteel, the buildings were oversized and ostentatious. The bank near the center was suspended high in the air by enormous glowing chains connected to a pair of intersecting arches. The administration building was by far the tallest, a narrow cylinder with an ancient tree growing at the very top, it's branches spreading out far enough that the entire building resembled a tree.

Not all buildings were large or ostentatious. The Seven Witches Cafe was ancient but also quaint. Quinn entered through the bright red door and asked the hostess about Seth. Quinn's brother was waiting for him on the second floor of the cafe, in a small alcove painted with images of birds, one side open to the air. Seth was people watching. He had a steaming latte on his table.

"Everything is ready," Quinn said. "We should head to the bank."

"Look at this place," Seth said. "I asked the girls up front about this building. They are very proud to work here, you know. They said this cafe is famous."

"I have heard of this place before," Quinn said.

"They say that it was in this very cafe, in this very alcove where we are sitting, where the Elder Saint and six other witches came up with the plan to kill the Charlatan King and save the world. Over there, on the wall."

The wall was decorated with seven full-sized paintings of witches. They had dark robes and pointed hats, with the exception of the witch in the very center of the seven, who was wearing a silvery robe with a hood that hid her eyes.

"Renna the Scientist," Seth said, pointing to the first image. "Lin the Historian. Fiona of the Morning Mist. The Elder Saint. Nydia the Midwife. Sophia the Engineer. Diana, Guardian of the Sea. I think I got them all right. The girls up front insisted that all those witches are still alive, except Renna. Renna didn't survive the war. Everyone knows that the Elder Saint is real and that she controls the oculomancers. What if she controls the banks and the Heritors too? What if this is a trap?"

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"The way I see it," Quinn said, "is that what we see is biased. There could be lots of people exactly like us in other cities with the same goal. I think that there must be someone out there that really dislikes the oculomancers and has recruited some Heritors to help. Those Heritors are being kept in the dark. King Edwin and that Maxius fellow must be part of that group. That's why it was so easy to get an audience with the King."

"Yeah, and what happens when the oculomancers find out that we are using one of those free auras?" Seth asked. "Everything has a price. We will be forced to pay for this someday."

Quinn handed Seth one of the notes. "This is yours," he said. "Do whatever you want with it. Tear it up, throw it in the fire, I don't care." Quinn pointed out the window towards the Spire. It was just barely visible between two towering clouds. It was glowing slightly from the countless sunlamps in the glass gardens that spiraled up the Spire. "How long can humanity go on like this?" he asked. "How long are we going to fight each other over scraps for the amusement of the Heritors? How long are we going to stay in this total, deliberate stagnation? Maybe this is a trap, and maybe there really is a conspiracy between the oculomancers and the Heritors to prevent the invention of flying machines. Maybe we are in over our heads and maybe you are right, maybe we will end up paying for this. But, I feel like this is a chance that I must take.

"Maybe someday I can get a job as an aqua engineer, or a sunlamp operator, or an engineer on a merchant ship. But they don't let you keep your aura. When the shift is over, the bankers are right there, waiting to take it away. The only people who get to use auras are Heritors, soldiers, and very, very rich people. I'm never again going to be holding a document in my hands, for the rest of my life, that gives me an aura to use however I want. And if we succeed, if we can really invent the flying machine, we could change the world."

"A chance you must take," Seth said. "That's something I can understand. Alright, I'll join you then. No hesitation. This University is going to remember our names forever."