To utilize your innate power, first the power must be drawn into your body, pulled from its resting place to fully suffuse the point from which you intend to cast, then pushed out into the world to shape itself as you desire. It is here that many children new to power construction falter, as the simultaneous internal pull and deliberate expulsion tends to cause mental dissonance which interferes with the concentration required.

The simplest way to combat this instinctive dissonance is by reconceptualizing the entire process into a single, steady flow. From your heartstone, through your body into a hand or foot, and from there manifested out into the world.

-On Heartstones, vol 1

----------------------------------------

My name is Fonli Raysh and I am a murderer. Twice by happenstance; once by design. This success did not bring me peace. My vengeance may have been accomplished but it wasn’t enough to still the burning within my soul.

My fractured power was the reason I’d been invited here, the sense of dissatisfaction with myself the reason I’d agreed to it. No one had mentioned the deaths I’d caused, there had been no talk of justice or the like. Simply that I was too powerful now to live among the ordinary nobility.

So now I stared up at the brilliant four-layer dome of solid crimson light pretending to be a sky, stars beyond glinting in infinite black. Beneath my feet, common grey stone built into an artificial plateau shielded me from the destabilizing influence of the moon’s surface. The stone and dust of Erae - and Aosa as well, though the larger moon was to my knowledge still uninhabited - could melt through power constructs like acid through toast.

They weren’t wrong about my power, highly abnormal. Something had happened that first day, the day of the first deaths I’d caused. Something had shifted as my heart screamed its fury and my once-stable power had splintered. Teal was joined by purple and yellow, the colours only serving to drive me further into that rage that had only lately subsided into a gleaming ember.

Now I watched the tiny flickers of difference between the edges of the layers above me, the light not quite matching perfectly. Different people sustained each of the domes. If one of them failed to restore their section on time, the others were staggered so there would still be something protecting the atmosphere inside from the void beyond.

I didn't know what I was doing here. Sure, the man who recruited me said a lot about how we'd be protecting the world, and a lot more about getting me safely out of the way so I wouldn't be harming the equilibrium of the world. “You have been separated from those below because they tend to fear and hate that which is too different, too powerful. It is for your safety as well as theirs that those such as you must be brought here, away from the suspicion and idiocy of ordinary nobility."

But I'd graduated years ago. I knew how to use my power. I didn't need to go to any school.

Well.

I drew a quick light construct, nothing but compressed power tied into a stable form, enough to stay bright for at least two weeks. The power flowed smoothly into a twisted orb, cracks of incompatible power straining its edges. I could tell by looking at it that the degradation would be highly volatile. It would dissolve within a day or two.

Maybe I did need training. But the thought of going back to school for something as basic as power constructs? It was like being told I had to learn to walk or fly all over again, that I needed to start over with speaking words. It grated. I had things to do with my life, didn't I?

If I did, I couldn't remember them. Whatever had happened in that vague explosion of power and fury, whatever had prompted my power's metamorphosis, that was what had done this to me. Left me with one pointless goal seared into my soul, a goal that had been accomplished long ago yet still lingered with all the insistence of an aggressive neighbor. I had to do something, something big, something serious. I could no longer imagine living an ordinary life, couldn't even begin to picture what that would look like for me. I had left ordinary behind when I set out for revenge.

Done. Over. Moving on.

It didn't feel real, even when it had been happening. The carnage of a legacy destroyed, blood glistening in the unreal brilliance of my fracturing power, too many colours. He'd come for me there, brought me away, kept me together while my mind was fracturing along with my broken power.

What transpired during that long voyage from the island to the moon, I couldn't say. It felt blurred and distant. Impressions lingered, emotions, but nothing concrete.

I needed to act.

Staring at the sky would accomplish nothing. I had to take the next step.

Admissions were located at a small structure built by the side of a rock formation that speared up through the center of the dome like a supporting pillar, but didn't quite reach. The dome curved upward well above the column's top, leaving it sufficient clearance to protect it from any stray particles of magic-dissolving dust.

The academy was spread over four different domes, each protected by three or four layers of shielding to protect it from the deadly exterior. How the bubbles allowed entrance and exit through them, I had no idea. Power constructs could only be altered by their creator, so entering it without destroying it seemed unlikely. But it happened. My escort had brought us through all four layers without hesitating, though each had a slightly different shade of power.

I arrived at the admission building and nodded to the individuals guarding its entrance. Why they needed guards, I didn't know and didn't care.

The old man at the desk glanced me up and down as I entered, then he nodded. "Fonli Raysh. Welcome to Erae Academy."

I narrowed my eyes at him. I did not know him, but he called me by name - and did so without honorifics. Presumptuous of him. Arrogant, to put himself above tradition.

"We need none of your traditions here," he said, as though in response to my thoughts. Then, after a pause, "And I am responding to your thoughts. You should stop projecting if you don't want me to hear you."

"I don't project. One in the family is enough."

Something in my mind flailed in hazy uncertainty, the mention of family enough to jolt my thoughts away from their current trajectory. I drifted, frowning, trying to recall whatever fleeting impression had distracted me. Nothing.

"These impressions are common among those who have experienced similar life-altering events as yours," the old man said. "You have somehow come into two new powerhues. Your body and mind are unaccustomed to the added strain. Especially that purple, it seems to have done a number on you mentally."

"Purple doesn't have to be mind-related," I said, old arguments coming hotly to my lips. "Just because it's inclined that direction does not mean that everyone with purple is a projecter."

"And projection is not the only thing purples are known for."

"I don't know anyone who injects. Injection is illegal."

"Not here."

It took a moment to accept the utter nonsense "Injection is allowed? But ..." I couldn't even grasp the implications of that. If people with mental abilities were permitted to use them without regulation, without limitation, then ...? Wouldn't we all end up slaved in minutes? "Do you at least check for safety?" It was a stupid question.

"Only if their actions would threaten the academy as a whole. The important thing is to learn to protect yourself. If that means you spend a few years as an echo, well, then you've got excellent incentive to work harder in future."

I felt my heartbeat speed up, the pulse of light beneath my skin increasing in brightness. Mastering mental power had just jumped up on my priority list by a lot. Suddenly the random purple flashes in my power didn't seem so much an irritant as a blessing. If I could learn to integrate these newly-manifested powerhues as well as my native teal, well, there was no 'if' about it. I had to. No choice in the matter.

Unregulated purples. Even for me, having lived in the same household as one, well aware of their limitations and the unlikeliness of anyone actually doing any of the far-fetched nefarious things purples are always known for in stories, the idea made me shiver.

“A starcloud incursion will not hesitate. The law will not give soul-eaters so much as a single pause. The lesser nobles planetside may choose to cripple their own defences in order to maintain their fragile balance of peace, but here we cannot afford to be vulnerable. You've been prepared for ordinary service against the incursions, but here we are much more serious about it. None of that formation and escort nonsense. Our job is to fight, and kill, and survive. You will learn, or you will die.”

Alright. That definitely sounded like the kind of challenge I could latch on to. Win or die. Got it. I was liking the sound of this more and more.

"So we're the front front lines."

"Yes. Was this not explained to you?"

I waved a hand. "The guy who brought me here said a lot of things, but I was a little distracted at the time. The basics are clear enough. Learn to use all these messed up pieces of my power, fight incursions. Yeh?"

"This academy is far more than a mere magic school. The incursions are not always clean, sometimes we are able to retrieve remains from our attackers. This is where we study those remnants, to discover weaknesses we can use in future. This is where we watch the stars, where we give advance warning of anything approaching that does not belong. And, yes, this is where we learn to manage multiple powerhues at once without them interfering with each other. As it stands right now, your power probably reacts as though you were three different people trying to make the same construct at the same time in the same location. That won't work. You need to learn to single them out and focus on each independently."

I nodded. "Excellent. Is there any sort of competition, ranking, or scorecard?"

The old man smiled. "Indeed there are. We rank individuals based on performance, influence, and capacity. There are regular ryshglide and verdis tournaments for those more athletically inclined—"

"Yes. I want in."

"These forms here will put you in consideration. The teams are currently halfway through a run, so you'll have to wait another several months before being approved or rejected. There are practice courses you are welcome to avail yourself of in the meantime, and there are several others who informally compete as practice."

"Yes. Good. What else?"

"Of course, there is the ongoing competition for detecting actual incursions. The reward for each correct detection is substantial, and there is also a leaderboard for those who report such. You are required to patrol the world once a month, but any further patrol loops are voluntary. Procedures are to be followed to the letter. Do not under any circumstances attempt to leave the dome without clearance and proper preparation. You will die."

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"Understood." I was going to get out as soon as I knew how the domes worked. No way I was going to let such a simple thing as the rules stand between me and exploring a whole new world. The moon had no water. Nothing at all but the artificial lake that took up half the artificial plateau on which most of the academy rested. I'd never imagined a place where you could fly for more than a few hours without reaching the endless ocean. So much land, I had to see it for myself.

"I highly recommend you don't. You're not the first one to think you could get away with slipping out. If you do, there's a good chance you'll end up one more frozen corpse out in the wilds."

"I wish you'd stop reading my mind."

"I'm not reading it. You're projecting."

I wanted to protest again that I wasn't a projecter, that I would never do such a thing, that projection was Merten’s thing, not mine. But the evidence refused to go away simply because I denied it. I was projecting, somehow, for some reason.

"That purple in your aura—" the old man began, only for me to frown at him irritably.

"Purples are no better or worse than anyone else," I insisted, and he shrugged and changed the subject.

“Then let’s move on to the paperwork. First, your name. Do you wish to retain your planetside name, or choose a new one?”

"I'll continue with my own name," I said, hesitated a moment, then added, "No. Merten. Fonli Merten."

"So it shall be."

"What should I do next?"

"Prepare yourself for the challenge of your life," the old man said with a smile. "Classes are on a merit basis. You can test into or out of any lessons you wish, but the core curriculum is highly recommended. Points are awarded for attendance and grades, as well as performance in other activities such as scouting or the games."

He handed me a schedule with suggested attendances marked. I took it and nodded, checking the map on the back. The red dome in which I currently stood was labeled, as were the smaller domes across the academy grounds. Though 'grounds' was an incorrect term. Aside from the plateau with its pillar, the entire academy was built on platforms of light that hung suspended in the air. The bubbles were complete around most of the areas, protecting them from the ground as much as from the sides or above.

The first building past the administration complex was housing, one of the few housed on the plateau itself. My assigned room was on the fourth floor, so as soon as I left the administration building I stepped into the air with a quick burst of unsteady power and flew toward the upper entrance. My control over the flight didn't sustain very well, as the fractures in my hue left my power constructs with questionable stability, even those as simple as flying.

It was humiliating and frustrating, my flight wobbling like a five year old's. I'd even known some five year olds who could surpass this embarrassing display.

But then it was over, I reached the entrance balcony for the fourth floor and stepped inside. The halls were carpeted and wide, the rooms appointed with as much dignity and beauty as any normal manor or town house. Mine was a bit smaller than my room back home, with attached kitchen and bathroom. I checked the kitchen, and it had a stove and coldbox as well as stocked pantries. Nothing to worry about there, then. It shared entrances to three other rooms, so I assumed I'd have to meet my hall-mates at some point. For now, I returned to my sitting room and sat.

I wanted to fly around the place, look at everything, find the practice arena, and get started. But I had to remind myself that until my fragmented power was under control, anything I normally could do would have to wait.

Treat them individually.

Split up the three strands of light so they could each be manipulated on their own.

I'd been thinking of my power as though it were light in a broken mirror, the reflection disjointed but still a single whole. But if the three were distinct from each other, then perhaps I could still learn to return my original teal to its supremacy. Maybe I could learn to use the purple properly, to project and inject. If injection was legal? I would have to deal with it sooner or later anyway. Might as well do it on my own terms.

There was a good chance I'd end up slaved to someone for a time, until I could build my resistances and fight back. But I wouldn't forget. If anyone thought they could trap me and get away with it, they were messing with the wrong person.

They didn't know who I was. They didn't know what I'd done.

If they messed with me, I'd make them regret it.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, they decided to try anyway.

There was no protection in place to shield newcomers from old and established students. My physical appearance was nothing intimidating, so apparently the biggest morons in the place decided that meant free shots at the newbie.

My shielding had never been weak, but until my recent flare of power I'd never imagined the kind of strength that they had to put against me. I had similar strength, but it was untrained and wild.

Unfortunately, when someone with the same (if not higher) level of power comes after you, the one with better training and control is almost always going to come out on top.

In this case, that meant very much not me.

I did my best, but mental shields simply weren't necessary beyond a certain point. You set them up and forgot about them, updating them every night or so just to be sure they would remain stable, but it wasn't the sort of thing you did anything with. Enough to bounce off injection attempts, or at least alert you if someone more powerful than the casuals broke in, that essential split-second of forewarning, and then you'd boost your protections before they could try again.

Because of the difference in interactions between powers, and especially the requirement that only the person who created it could modify it, rigid protections that could absorb a lot of wear were the best. By the time it broke, you'd be forewarned enough to have a stronger layer underneath.

My layers were fragile, fault lines spiderwebbed across them from the two new powerhues that had shown up. My one evening of practice trying to separate out the threads of them had done little to stabilize anything. I couldn't do anything before the pulse hit, and then I stood paralyzed as my mind screamed at my body to move and my sense of self drifted somewhere apart from either. I felt myself sprinting, watched as I ran wildly for the outer barrier at full speed. It had been so sudden, so unexpected, I didn't entirely realize what was happening until I was halfway across the dome.

There was a definite temptation to panic, but my mental calm enforced itself upon my self without incident. I couldn't stop the sprint, not from inside, but I could impose order from outside.

My power didn't answer, tied into my body as firmly as any muscle or nerve, but the form of it was clear and ready in my mind.

I needed to get past the separation, destroy the pulse. But how? I was outside, time was running out, and the temptation to panic was growing by the minute.

Fire glowed in my heart. I would not panic, and I would not back down.

Unfortunately, I hit the shield before I'd figured out a way out of the predicament. It didn't break anything, but I bounced off it hard hit the ground even harder. I knew I'd have a bruise on my knee and sore back for days.

The spike broke then, dissipating and leaving me in control once again.

I hadn't seen who cast the attack. By the time I noticed its existence, it was too late.

They were good. Used to smashing open newcomers, used to showing off their superiority. Imagined superiority.

"Who did that?" I demanded, striding back into the group. My mental protections were reinforced this time, triple-layered and each thicker than the initial one. I was taking no chances on a repeat performance.

Something flickered out of the corner of my eye and I dodged just in time to evade another spike, pale blue and elongated, shaped to drive into a shield and destroy it.

"Do you think this will be enough to stop me?" I asked, snagging the bolt in a power net as it flew past. My constructs may be fragile and short-lived now, but they were no less potent or well-designed in the moment. I could slam up a construct in under a second.

"Just a standard test," one of the grumpy guards said, looking sourly at me. "No need to get melted out of shape over it."

"There is nothing standard about taking over someone else's mind," I said coldly. Having grown up with a purple, I knew exactly how serious this kind of thing was. You did not force inject. Even projection was pushing it under most ordinary circumstances, but you could get away with it if you knew what you were doing.

This? No. Unforgivable.

"Like to see you stop us," offered the biggest moron of the lot, he of the blue power. It blurred the line between blue and teal, a sky-bright colour I'd never seen anyone exhibit before.

"Will do," I said.

Another spike bounced off my newly reinforced shields, and he nodded in grudging acknowledgment. "Better. Still bad." Power slammed into me, two blue bricks the size of boulders appearing from nowhere before crushing me between them. My mental shields cracked under the strain, then hissed away to nothing just as a tiny spike speared down the narrow space between the blocks and—

I danced a ridiculous jig, flailing my arms and legs until I fell down in a dizzy heap, the injection fading with my inability to carry out its suggestion any further.

I scowled, teeth gritted against the humiliation. This sort of stupid childish hazing made me angry. We were supposed to be the over-elites, those so far beyond ordinary nobles we needed a whole different world to live and train on. And this was the kind of thing that went on?

My power flickered in multi-hued lightnings, and the group I hesitated to consider as fellow students merely laughed. "This is what you think counts as quality protection?"

I didn't see the next spike, didn’t even feel as it slammed home.

And then I stood utterly still, completely immobile as my self screamed at my power in futile desperation to fight back.

They left, laughing, and I still couldn’t move. Fear seeped its way into me. They wouldn't really leave me here. Someone would let me go. This wasn't a simple command that could be completed or broken, but a physical imperative that would be much harder to break. Inaction was harder to block than action.

I couldn't close my eyes, couldn't turn my head.

Come on, power. Listen to me, not the lies. Break free. Break me free.

But commands to my power went through my brain, same as anything else, and this connection had been overridden.

There had to be an answer. Whoever was in charge wouldn't allow this to happen if it really left students frozen or trapped for days. They wouldn't leave me to die here. Surely not.

The dome pulsed in steady waves of red light. The distant blue orb of my ocean-covered homeworld slid across the sky. People came and went in the distance. No one approached me.

Eventually, the spike wore off. Its influence waned and I returned to myself. My power flashed out in a full sphere shield immediately, heat pulsing to fill the area of my influence and offset the bone-deep chill. Cold and weary from inaction, I pushed unsteadily into the air and took off for my home.

I didn't know how many interminable hours I'd stood there helplessly, but it had been far too many. And every one of them was spent imagining my eventual vengeance. I may be the weakest one right now, I may have no training and unstable power, but I would not back down. I’d never been one for quietly giving in.

I needed better shields. I needed to find a back door into reclaiming my mind once it had been stolen, but that was going to be harder to accomplish.

I paced the room as the warmth slowly slowly leeched the cold from my body. The temperature on the surface wasn’t dangerous, but it was certainly far from comfortable.

I'd long since gone from the dark intense violent fury to a simmering, colder anger that would wait and wait and wait but never subside.

I wasn't going to kill anyone. Even for something as irksome as this, there was no call for that. I could think of a thousand ways to make their lives miserable that would be far more satisfying than anything so brief and final.

If I'd had time, if I'd thought about it beforehand, if I'd done anything but charge ahead in unquenchable rage, there were things I would have done to my third kill. The only one that deserved it.

But weighed against that, such pettiness deserved a petty response. Perhaps a bit more severe than their childish pranks, but nothing so drastic or permanent as death. Humiliation? That would suffice. Pain, perhaps. Helplessness and terror, absolutely.

But that would be for another day. Vengeance dealt too swiftly is fleeting and unsatisfying. Better to let the plan wait, the thoughts build, the future recompense accrue unenacted.

Better to let them grow complacent. Let them think they've won. There is nothing more satisfying than turning the tables on a foe who believes they know everything, believes they have the whole thing in control, and then you smile and reveal that, no, it was your plan, your knowledge, and your victory from the start.

Was it perhaps excessive to put such effort into so trivial an individual? Perhaps. Probably. But sometimes, it's not the severity of the thing that matters, but the principle. I would have marked skypower man and his little posse for destruction after their first offense. The others merely reinforced the resolution.

I at least had been forewarned, though by happenstance. How many others hadn't? Perhaps they'd have thought twice if I'd been less unstable, but even my strongest shield bore the fractures of foreign powerhues.

My list of goals was clear. Gain control over my powers, protect myself, learn to return from that evicted state that occurred when foreign power overwrote the connection between mental and physical, and finally learn to control my own mental power. Only then could I hope to succeed.

They'd seen the purple in my fractured hues and not hesitated. The advantage gained by having a power innately verses learning it independently may be minimal enough to be disregarded here. I'd have to avoid relying on any innate advantage from my new powerhue.

Build up my own skills in other areas to cover for the focus on mental, do what I would have done if this little conflict had never come about. Play the games, fight the enemies, fly the patrols, win the contests.

I smiled as I imagined the future. I needed to become someone they'd consider worth their time. A part of the team. Maybe stage an overwrought scene where I changed my mind about them.

I hummed happily to myself. Mmmm, that would make it all the better when I finally revealed myself. When it was their turn to run, to dance, to freeze.

The smile faded as I contemplated the long path that would be required to reach that goal. But I'd never been one to give up on a thing once I set it in my mind. Hard work didn't scare me off.

I'd been searching for a new purpose. It was just their misfortune that they happened to be the ones to provide it.

----------------------------------------