"What? How do you know?" Arik replied, frantically looking to the sky.

"My Caster, it enhances my senses. Hard to explain. Looks, there's no point in running. Let's face these men and tell them to leave you alone."

"No. I'm not dragging you into this. You go on. Get out of here."

They paused for a moment. Fahon took stock of their options and where they could go next. "I'm not abandoning my cousin to a bunch of street thugs."

"They're not ordinary thugs. They are Syndicate members out of Zele, where I was living."

"It's why you're here. You took a loan and ran?"

Arik rested his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. "They don't have much patience. I'm a little late on paying their boss back."

The flagstone path ended in a large clearing with a well-groomed lawn, beds of flowers, a smattering of short trees, and flowering bushes.

People sat in the grass and on benches along the path. Some were having picnics, conversating, or basking in the Twin's light. The path cut through the clearing to a circular platform of gray brick. This was Honor Park, the second largest park in the entire city of Whitestone, a smudge of green amid a bustling commercial district. It was quiet, with the dense foliage deflecting the noise of traffic and marketgoers.

A black slab of polished stone sat in the center of the white brick platform. It was a monument to the fallen soldiers of the Unification Wars, the most significant conflict in Ophan's modern era. Engraved on it were thousands of names immortalized in gold. Two fountains beside the monument shot jets into the air, cascading water falling back down onto the pools below.

The monument clearing had multiple paths leading to it from surrounding streets. Syndicate thugs emerged from the various paths, blocking the exits. Fahon and Arik could run into the trees in a random direction, but it would only delay the inevitable.

Without enhanced vision it took Arik a moment longer to catch on. He ran his hands through his red mop and growled.

"I have a Caster. Surely, they'll back off once they see it," Fahon said.

"You don't know them like I do. They're crazy."

The thugs encircled Fahon and Arik. They took defensive stances, ready in case the two decided to bolt. A tall thug with intricate face tattoos and slicked black hair stepped forward. He smiled, front teeth plated in gold.

"Arik," the thug said and cracked his knuckles. "Where are you running to? We just want to have a peaceful conversation."

Fahon pointed to the drones hovering above. "This feels like an abduction to me."

"Inheritor—this matter doesn't concern you. Walk away."

"Look, guys. I will get you the marks. I never go back on my word. Give me to the end of the month," Arik pleaded.

"No extensions. Come with us. We won't hurt you. We'll ransom you to your family to get the marks you owe us."

Fahon rested a hand on Arik's back. "My cousin was wrong for not paying you. A man should own his debts. But he's family. I'm not going to let you take him anywhere."

He held his hand out to punctuate his point and Phase-crafted a gleaming blue katana. He pointed the tip of the blade at the thug.

"You're right, Your Highness. We are no match for a Bonded." Despite his words, the thug didn't look frightened whatsoever.

Fahon scowled. "Stand down at once."

"Boss?"

Fahon had yet to notice another person joining the group and cursed himself for not paying attention. He had been occupied with the thugs surrounding them.

A man stepped forward. He didn't look like the others, dressed in a fine gray suit perfectly fitted to a lean muscular body. His face was triangular, eyes the color of rust, and a thin mustache graced his upper lip. On top, his ear-length black hair was combed to one side. Above his left shoulder loomed a Caster. The orb's shell was bright red, with two white lines running from top to bottom.

Fahon had seen the man's face before. But from where?

"Kormel," Arik croaked, blue eyes widening in terror.

Realization struck Fahon right after Arik said his name. Kormel was a famous Bonded from the Free States who participated in the Promise League and was a top tourney competitor.

"Kormel… You're in charge of the Syndicate?" Fahon asked, incredulous.

Kormel chuckled softly. "Me in charge? Hardly."

Fahon shifted, holding his shining blue katana with two hands, lowering into a defensive stance, blade vertical in front of him, legs shoulder width apart.

"You don't want to fight us, kid."

Fahon's hands squeezed the grip of the gleaming weapon. "I'm not going to warn you again."

Points of crimson light manifested around Kormel, elongating into sharp crystalline spikes. Without warning, they streaked at Fahon with vicious speed.

Blast! They were fast, and Kormel was too close. Even with the enhanced reaction speed of Bond-sense, he didn't have enough time to respond.

He closed his eyes and braced himself…for nothing?

A few seconds passed. Fahon opened both eyes to a lucent blue dome surrounding Arik and him. The red spikes Kormel shot were lodged into its surface, cracks spreading from the impact points.

I didn't summon that shield. What is going on?

The truth was, he had panicked. Maybe in the moment of desperation, he had created the dome? It didn't make sense, as Phase-crafting required intention and visualization.

"Not bad," Kormel said, voice muffled through the Phasematter barrier.

Kormel hurled a second barrage of spikes. The cracks spread with each collision. He followed with a third and fourth volley of spikes, intending to break through. Large pieces of the Phasematter flaked away from the dome's inner wall, breaking into embers and vanishing.

Arik fell to his knees, bewildered, blue eyes wide with terror. Fahon noticed the parkgoers fleeing the clearing. Their panicked screams met his sharpened ears clear as day.

I need to reinforce this dome, or he will break it.

Fahon studied the structure of the dome. He could sense the Phasematter through his Bond. The Caster's energy was tangible in his mind like a warm pool he could draw upon. All he had to do was direct more power into it.

The new Phasematter invigorated it, bright blue filling the cracks and holes. The spikes were pushed out and plopped onto the grass. A few seconds later, the structure was flawless again.

Casters didn't have unlimited power; they used a highly advanced battery. Phase-crafting spent the energy. The bigger the Phasematter object, the greater the energy consumed to construct it. Over a few hours, the power would recharge, but it was possible to run out if you were reckless.

"Trying to buy time." Kormel cracked his knuckles with a smirk. "Smart…but futile."

Kormel held his hand to the side, and a huge red Phasematter pick-axe phased into his grip. He kicked off, Phase-jumping at the dome, swinging the tool with all his might.

The dome crunched as the hammer impacted, the point shattering its way through. Fahon rushed to fill in the gaps again, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Kormel pushed off the dome with his foot, dislodging the pick. He wound, slamming it down again. The blow took out a considerable chunk. Shards of Phasematter sprayed Fahon and Arik inside.

Kormel was readying for another swing, and he stopped, distracted. He turned around, and the thugs turned with him.

"Argent Knight!" a thug shouted.

Fahon's gaze fell upon a figure above the canopy of trees. Running on air. He squinted against the rubicund brightness of the Twins, and his enhanced vision adjusted. The light was filtered and reduced like he was wearing a pair of sunglasses. The Argent Knight fell into focus as if he were zooming with a camera.

She wasn't running on air but across a path of glassy magenta Phasematter. A new chunk materialized under her foot with each step. In her passing, it dissolved into a ribbon of fiery embers.

Fahon marveled at the sight. I must learn that skill.

The Knight wore the same crisp charcoal uniform as Fahon, except it was fitted to her shapely frame. She was built like an athlete. She had dark skin, and her tight curly jet-black hair was tied back into a bun. Her amber eyes were narrowed as she studied the situation, and her face scrunched in concentration. A Caster floated above her shoulder, its shiny chrome shell glinting.

"Go!" Kormel shouted.

The thugs scrambled towards the trees, breaking off into different directions.

The Knight angled her sky bridge downward, shaping it into a steep slope. She slid down on her side, aiming above the fleeing thug. Both of her feet rammed into his head. He fell sideways and skidded across the grass, and she landed beside him in a low predatory crouch.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The Knight materialized a magenta disc of Phasematter. It whipped away from her, spinning through the air in a blur. The disc struck another thug in the leg, instantly breaking his femur, and he spilled to the ground.

Kormel dismissed his pickaxe and sent a barrage of spikes at her. A long magenta quarterstaff appeared in the Knight's grip. With an adroit twirl of the weapon, she swatted each spike aside, causing them to careen into the grass or embed in nearby trees.

"Thank the ancestors," Arik whispered.

Fahon dismissed the dome, breaking it into thousands of twinkling blue lights. Arik gasped, clearly horrified the protection was gone.

Now aware of his Caster's energy pool, Fahon noticed some of the energy, less than half, recovering after dismissal. It would be a huge advantage to dismiss any Phasematter constructs after using them. They would eventually dissipate on their own, but it took three minutes, and the energy wasn't recycled.

Kormel's back was to Fahon. Now was the time for a counterattack.

Fahon roared. Taking the curved sword in both hands, he charged at Kormel. The Knight flung another spinning disk, this time at Fahon. It struck him in the shins and sent him sprawling on the grass. He was glad she didn't hurl it as fast, as it might have broken his leg too.

The Knight glowered at Fahon. "Stay out of my way, Initiate!"

Fahon groaned as he sat, both of his shins aflame with pain. He didn't know if he was offended or impressed.

The Knight sprinted towards Kormel. He fired spikes at her, again deftly deflected with the staff as she moved. It barely slowed her down. Kormel generated two wicked crimson scimitars, one in each hand, readying himself for close combat. She Phase-jumped at the last second, with a blaze of magenta, kneeing Kormel in the chest.

The Knight swung her staff two-handed, attempting a finishing blow. Kormel barely raised his swords to stop the attack, and the force drove him to his rump. Phasematter scraped against Phasematter, and they struggled against each other. Kormel managed to get his feet under him, rising as he pushed with superior strength. She withdrew, twirling her staff, and fell into a defensive stance.

Kormel charged at her, unleashing a hailstorm of slashes with both swords. She whipped her staff around, parrying each blow one after another as the frenzy drove her backward.

Kormel was a brute, but she had speed. He bared his teeth, seething. He growled as he attempted to chop the Knight into pieces. She remained calm, watching all his moves with careful attention. None of his slashes made purchased. Her defense was flawless.

Should I help? How long can she keep this up?

The berserk Kormel slowed as he tired from his onslaught. The Knight managed to land a palm strike in the center of his chest. It shoved him back, and he struck back with a right-handed sword swing. She ducked under it and swept his feet from beneath him with her staff.

Kormel landed on his back, eyes rolling into his skull. The Knight wasted no time, bashing the butt of her staff into the middle of his forehead. The blow knocked him out, and his Caster spun above him, idling.

She dismissed her quarterstaff and snatched the orb from the air.

"Caster, deactivate Bond."

Not everyone could snatch a Caster and deactivate it. The Bonded had to be dead or unconscious. While in the state, the Caster would go idle and spin, waiting for their Bonded to recover consciousness. If they didn't, another Bonded could take the Caster and say the deactivation command, breaking the Bond. Otherwise, Casters would be useless after their Bonded died.

Fahon stood, dismissed his curved sword, and sucked a deep breath. The thugs fled the scene.

"Initiate. Are you injured?" the Knight called out in a stately voice.

"You wounded his pride," Arik cut in as he stepped beside Fahon.

Fahon scowled at his cousin. "No, I'm fine."

It took a little while for the police to arrive. Technically the Police Force was a part of the Warrior Sect. Their ranks were hard to get into, and they had special training in the law. They had different uniforms as well. Instead of charcoal gray fatigues, theirs were dark blue, and they wore red armbands with their rank and precinct.

Two officers questioned Arik and Fahon. They recounted the events. After taking notes, the officers approached Vivana and spoke to her. Medics checked Kormel and the battered thugs. They cuffed them and dragged him off to the hospital for their injuries.

After her interview, Vivana strode over to Fahon and Arik, Caster following close behind.

"My lady, who are you?" Fahon asked.

Closer now, she didn't appear older than Fahon. He didn't remember ever seeing her at any of the previous Knight's Tourneys. She must have been a new member of the Argent Knights too.

"I am Vivana of House Hammel."

Fahon was familiar with House Hammel. A small house, they ruled over a large province called Northwatch in the northern reaches of Ophan. Despite its size, the province had a sparse population, mostly centered around the seaside city of Gade. The winters were long and harsh. The Worker Sect citizens living there raised livestock or toiled in crab hatcheries along the frigid coast.

Vivana continued, "You both were lucky I was close. Why did Kormel attack you anyway? The police couldn't say."

"Because he's a psychopath," Arik muttered.

Fahon explained the situation to her.

Vivana glared in Kormel's direction. "A famous Bonded, in league with the criminal underground, trying to ransom a member of the Sovereign's House for marks in broad daylight. They made a huge mistake."

"I suspect Kormel thought he could take me out quickly and be out of here with Arik before anyone showed up."

Arik pointed to the orb in Vivana's hand. "What are you going to do with the Caster? It's worth a fortune. Won't the Free States want it back?"

"There is an honorable tradition in war," Fahon said. "If a Bonded is wounded or killed in combat, the victorious side will often allow the enemy to recover the body and Caster."

Arik rubbed his chin. "I wonder what will become of it. You could sell it for a huge chunk of change."

Vivana studied the red and white striped orb. "It's none of my concern. I'm going to deliver his Caster to Knight Commander Crin. He will determine its fate."

"Thanks for your help." Fahon gave Arik a little push. "Come on, cousin, let's get out of here before the news crews arrive."

---

Fahon stood in the hall outside of the ceremonial chambers. Divinity shadowed him. The double wooden doors, sculpted into swirling patterns, remained closed. Inside the Knights were preparing for the ceremony.

Arik rounded the corner at the end of the hall and strode towards him, boots clicking on the shiny hardwood floor. He wore a lime green colored tunic, his red hair messy as always.

It was easy for Fahon to convince his mother to let Arik stay at Drakk Palace. It was the most well-guarded building in all of Whitestone, after all. Of course, despite the danger, Arik insisted on going out to carouse the night before.

"You know," Fahon said, "you should take a couple of the palace guards with you when you go out at night. At least you'll be protected."

Arik snorted. "I don't need a bunch of stiff warriors following me around. No, thank you."

"You can't run from your problems forever. You need to pay the Syndicate back and soon."

Arik nodded. "You should come out with me. I wouldn't need bodyguards at all. I'd have a Bonded. Plus, it would be fun. When was the last time you unwound?"

"Arik, I'm about to become an Argent Knight. I can't galivant around."

"Oh, come on. Argent Knights always are partying—throwing all those festivals and feasts."

Fahon's mother emerged at the end of the hallway.

"Let's discuss this later," Fahon said.

Arla held a purposeful gait, wearing dark blue scholar robes with golden trimmings. Squarish glasses rimmed her emerald eyes. Her waist-length auburn hair was tied into a braid draped over one shoulder. She was a reclusive woman, a researcher, and a scientist at Whitestone University.

Both her arms wrapped in a motherly hug around Fahon. He smelled a nostalgic fruity perfume. It reminded him of childhood, of shaping clay into pottery with his mother guiding him. Holding him out at arm's length, she examined his uniform through her glasses and smiled proudly.

"You are the spitting image of your grandfather," Arla said.

"It's what you always say."

"Especially in that uniform."

"Good evening, lady Consort," Arik said and gave a slight bow. "I wanted to thank you for your hospitality."

She gave Arik a brief hug. "Nephew. I hope your quarters are sufficient?"

"They are excellent."

"Father isn't coming?" Fahon asked, voice grim. "Is he?"

Arla shifted uncomfortably in her scholar robes. "He is in a strategy meeting with his advisors about yesterday's events. Apparently, his advisors anticipate the capture of a foreign Bonded will create tension in the next Forum meeting."

Fahon frowned. "Father resents me joining the Argent Knights. He tried to talk me out of my choice, wants me to become a scholar."

Arik clapped him on the shoulder.

"I would have loved for you to become a scholar too. It was never our choice. Your father will come around in time," Arla said and proffered a warm smile. "He is jealous you followed your grandfather's path and not his. He refuses to admit it."

The Sovereign put the nation before themselves.

He held out hope his father would at least stop by. After all, it's not like he had to travel.

"Don't look glum," she continued, "this is your big moment. You worked hard for it."

Fahon faked a smile.

A few minutes later, the double doors to the ceremonial chamber opened from the inside, held by palace guards.

It was time.

He nodded to his mother and Arik.

Taking a deep breath, he entered the chamber, guards closing the doors behind him.

The chamber was immaculate, with fluted marble pillars lining the center. A massive electric chandelier hung in its center, showering the room with clean white illumination.

At the back of the chamber was a circular dais carved from the same black marble as the pillars. Above loomed an intricate stained-glass window, spraying colorful shapes of light all over the room.

Murals cast in bronze lined the walls. The left mural showed humankind's journey from Old Terra across the stars, ending at the Promise settlement.

The right mural was relatively new, replacing the previous one sometime after the Unification Wars. It displayed a triumphant battle between Bonded during the Unification Wars. His grandfather stood in the mural's center, blade hell high, rallying the Argent Knights and Ophani Army to victory. And there, a tiny dot behind him, was a depiction of Divinity.

Seven Argent Knights waited on the dais as Fahon approached. They gathered in such numbers only during wartime, as they were often busy ruling provinces or training. The Knight's Tourney and new member initiation were the exceptions.

Stoic faces met his eager grin. They showed nothing. With hands folded behind them, legs shoulder-width apart, they held a proper soldier's stance.

Fahon knew all their names; they were famous leaders. They wore crisp charcoal uniforms with all their medals and decorations pinned to their chests. Over their uniforms, they each wore a loose calf-length silver ceremonial robe. Casters of assorted colors and markings floated above the soldiers of the Knights, slowly spinning.

Knight Commander Crin of House Haloran stood at the center of the dais. He was a goliath of a man with tan skin and molten yellow eyes. His short-trimmed beard complimented a square jaw. The top of his head was shaved clean, glinting in the rainbow light of the stained-glass window. His Caster shell was black with two orange chevrons.

Fahon glimpsed Vivana, standing at the end of the left row. She remained neutral in her expression.

Once in front of the dais, the Knights all took one step forward and knelt before him. Fahon flushed. "P-Please, there's no need for that."

They held their heads low in reverence. Even Vivana, who called him Initiate the day prior.

The doors to the room creaked open behind them. Fahon glanced over his shoulder. His father stood proudly in sky-blue robes. Their eyes met, and he nodded to Fahon, who smiled. He was glad his father made it, despite their differences recently.

"Welcome, Inheritor," Crin said, voice booming as he rose from kneeling. "Let us begin."

The other Knights rose as well and assumed their stances.

"We Argent Knights have a long tradition," Crin spoke. "Our ancestors were survivors of the Conflagration. Bonded who found themselves living on a moon in chaos. Humankind ran rampant, addled by war, strife, slavery, and barbarism. Many Bonded became warlords and bandits, using their powers to dominate.

"A group of honorable Bonded joined together to reject the cruel ways of the warlords to fight the disorder. They consolidated their strength and defeated the warlords one by one, driving them out of this country. They birthed the nation of Ophan in their victory, which in Old Speech means a 'Place of Hope." And from it, they forged a beacon of civilization in a brutal world.

"Ours is the oldest and most remarkable of nations on this moon. Our stability is not a fluke. We carry the torch of justice lit long ago into the dark of the future. We are the guardians of the people. Men and women of honor. We serve and guide them.

"Today, Fahon of House Drakk joins us."

Crin stepped forward, looming over Fahon. "Please kneel."

Fahon dropped to one knee.

Crin materialized an intricate crystalline greatsword with a cross for a hilt. It glowed orange with an inner light. He lowered the enormous weapon, setting the blade flat against Fahon's right shoulder before moving to the left.

The other six Argent Knights surrounded him, each summoning their own sword. Based on the Knight's preference, the blades shone a rainbow of Phasematter colors and various blade types. The Knights added their own flairs and details when Phase-crafting their weapons, some simple and smooth, others with intricate patterns.

The Knights raised their glowing weapons above Fahon. They crossed in a circle above his head, like spokes on a wheel.

After a moment of silence, Crin commanded, "Rise."

"Rise," repeated the other Knights.

In unison, they dismissed their blades and stepped back, widening the circle. Crin removed his weapon from Fahon's shoulder. He lifted the greatsword overhead with one mighty arm.

"Argent Knight!"

Fahon rose to his feet as their peer.

The Knights present congratulated him, shaking his hand or slapping him on the back with encouragement. All except Vivana.