Kaleb was walking through the city along with Master Beris, having just returned from a visit to one of the richer districts. The clayton mage had had an order put in with a collector for a certain rare book and he’d decided to gather it today since they’d be leaving tomorrow.

Kaleb was carrying the book for his temporary teacher in a cloth bag. Most Of the way, he’d been thinking about what magic he’d be able to do once Master Beris gave him his new runes, but he neither knew which runes he’d get, nor what any rune did.

“Master Beris,” Kaleb began, looking at the middle aged clayton who was walking a step ahead of him. “What runes are you willing to give me, and do I get to choose?”

The mage chuckled. “No, you don’t get to choose,” he said. “This arrangement is already generous as is. The captain wouldn’t pay an apprentice’s pay for just your three runes, so I had to agree to his choice of spells.”

In other words, you didn’t get to choose either and you’re bitter about it. Kaleb thought it reasonable for the captain to make that demand. From what he’d heard, it’d take at least two different runes to build an effective spell, meaning that his three would at most make four spells if he was very lucky. Yez had said something about cantrips, but Kaleb assumed those were not very effective on the scale expected of mages.

He still couldn’t help but ask, “What am I getting then?”

The clayton glanced back at him. “A rune of Voluntary Attachment, and a rune of Directed Condensation.”

Kaleb found himself a little irritated that the mage said those words like they were supposed to mean something to him.

As if feeling Kaleb’s irritated stare digging into his back, the clayton glanced back again and continued, “together with your Moderate Force, they will allow you to cast a spell the captain was insistent on, Push-Haste.”

Kaleb was a little disappointed in the naming sense of whoever made or discovered this spell. It was sad.

They had to pass through the market district on their way back to the camp, and the roads got more crowded, irritating Master Beris, who Kaleb was waiting for more explanation from. Most of those who realized who the clayton was moved out of his way, but the press of bodies was difficult to navigate.

As they reached the edge of the district, the density of people reached a more reasonable degree. Homeless of all kinds and ages moved through the alleys nearby, at times fleeing with ill-gotten gains and at times chasing each other for lighthearted or malicious reasons.

As walking got easier for them, Master Beris’s mood improved enough for him to continue. “It so happens that this collection of runes allows you to cast a Repel spell as well through combining Moderate Force and Directed Condensation, which will provide additional protection for you against an attacker.”

“Would it push back an attacker who was charging me?” Kaleb asked. It was easy to imagine its effect from its name and Master Beris’s last remark.

“Yes,” the mage said, “as the name suggests.”

“What about Push-Haste?” Kaleb said. That one wasn’t as clear-sounding as the Repel spell.”

“I suppose it might sound perplexing,” Master Beris said, as if reading his mind. “Yet it describes itself as well as Repel. There are several Haste spells, yet this one utilizes the push of force on limbs, which makes it a little unwieldy for those it’s cast on. However, it's more effective than other spells of its kind when it comes to enhancing the heavily armored. I imagine the captain will rely on you to enhance those most reliable in his heavy infantry.”

“I see,” Kaleb said. There was a commotion in one of the alleys ahead, shouts and yells of “get him.” Two quill kids crossed the street and bolted into another alley. It wasn’t the most uncommon scene in the city but it was difficult to ignore.

“Your runes will also afford you two cantrips, one of which can be useful, and that might be as rare an occurrence as your node.” Master Beris chuckled. “Voluntary Attachment can be used to track someone for short distances.” He paused as more yells came from the alley ahead, but then he ignored them and continued,”I assume that from the rune’s name, it’s clear that you cannot use the cantrip maliciously.” More yells of “get him” and “throw it” came from the alley ten feet ahead of them. Then a human popped out of the alley, fifteen years old, and so damn familiar to Kaleb that he almost choked in reaction. “The more useless rune is–”

Master Beris’s words were cut short as Kaleb yelled out. “Adam!”

The boy turned to look at him, and recognition dawned on his face. “Kaleb?” he called. Then he glanced at the alley he’d just exited as Kaleb tried to approach. His cousin looked at him again, reluctance clear in his eyes. “No,” he called. “Stay back!” Then he bolted into an alley on the opposite side.

Kaleb cursed. “No, wait!” He sprinted forward, hoping to catch up. Master Beris’s yell came from behind him “Kaleb, halt!” but he ignored it as he saw several teenage quills run into the alley after Adam. He was just about to turn into the alley himself when he slammed into an invisible wall face-first and recoiled back, falling on the ground.

Vertigo struck him like a bell, and he rested the back of his head on the ground until the world could stop spinning. Then Master Beris was above him like a furious arbiter of death. “Where in the hells did you think you were going?”

Kaleb pushed a hand against the ground and slowly got to his feet. He eyed the alley he’d been about to enter. It was empty and silent, the kids having vacated it faster than he could recover from the fall.

He turned back to Master Beris who didn’t look any happier. The suspicion in his eyes was clear to someone who’d been around claytons enough like Kaleb. “I wasn’t–” Kaleb paused. “That was my cousin, I swear.”

The mage didn’t grace him with an acknowledgement of what he’d just said. He extended a hand towards him. “Hand me the bag,” he demanded.

“Oh.” Kaleb looked down at the bag still in his possession. Master Beris’s rare book was inside it. “Here.” He gave it back. “I truly didn’t mean to run from you. I thought my cousin might get hurt.”

“Stay close,” Master Beris said. And for the rest of their walk back to the camp, the mage walked beside him, not a step ahead of him as he had before.

Meanwhile, Kaleb’s mind was preoccupied by what he’d just seen. Adam is in the city. Has he always been here? A year and a half and I never caught a glimpse of him. It seemed his cousin was in a bind. Criminal activity in Echelon was a mire of roots that the City Guard kept submerged most of the time, and it sure looked like Adam was under the surface.

They returned to the camp in menacing silence, then they walked to the mage’s tent and they both spotted Yez nearby. The clayton mage went towards the tent alone, looking at yez with contempt and gesturing to Kaleb with his head. “Keep an eye on him.” Then he went inside.

Yez approached and looked at Kaleb quizzically. “What’s the matter?”

Kaleb’s gut coiled. If Master Beris told Captain Simion about what’d happened, this could turn ugly fast. “There has been a situation,” Kaleb said, starting to explain what happened.

“Well,” Yez said after he heard the story. “Was it, though, Kaleb? Your cousin that is? If you want to break the contract, I can talk to the captain. He wouldn’t want to march with you if you’re already reluctant.”

Kaleb was pained at the distrust. He’d been willing to trust Yez enough to be led here and to be convinced to join the company and accept Master Beris’s offer; It was hurtful to not be given the same measure of trust.

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Then he realized something. He’d grown trusting of the quill because the latter had been kind to him when he had been at his mercy, but the opposite had never happened. Yezdriel hadn’t had any chance to build trust with him. “It was, Yez,” Kaleb said, “I swear. And he was in danger.”

Yez looked him in the eye and nodded slowly. “I suppose you wouldn’t need to lie, given my offer.”

“What about the captain?” Kaleb said. “What would happen if Master Beris tells him?

“You needn’t worry,” Yez said, reassuring him with a pat on the shoulder. “The captain might become more cautious with you, but he doesn’t pass judgment on anyone without observing them himself.”

Kaleb stood there, his mind bombarded by all of it at once. The hole he’d dug himself into with Master Beris on their first day, and the even deeper hole his cousin must be in. After a while, he asked Yez, “what now?”

“You stay in sight,” Yez said. “And you go to bed before everyone else.”

In other words, avoid suspicion, Kaleb thought.

He followed Yez’s advice, loitering around crowded areas in the camp, where the regulars either worked on chores, cleaned their equipment, or prattled together. They seemed to mostly ignore Kaleb, as if not sure how to treat him, and he was fine with that since he had a lot on his mind. Master Beris hadn’t summoned him even after a while. Kaleb had thought he’d learn at least one of the runes today.

He did see the captain once when the stocky quill had passed by the cooking station he was sitting at. Kaleb saw how the regulars, young and old, straightened at the captain’s presence, those who were loitering hurrying to busy themselves with chores, and those doing chores trying to look as focused and serious as possible.

Night came in a fluid blanket, covering the skies in the dotted white of the stars. Kaleb didn’t linger, going to his tent as soon as it was officially dark.

The tent was a decent if simple affair. It had a sort of carpeting made from intertwined, dry weeds that covered the ground entirely, and on top of it lay some bedding and a small table with a stool. A chest was available for his belongings as well, but it was of no use since they would be leaving tomorrow.

Seeing no point in driving himself mad with more thinking, he decided to at least get a good, long night’s sleep.

…

The next morning, Kaleb woke up to the expected commotion of a camp packing up to leave. They’re up early, considering I beat them to bed.

He walked out of the tent towards a barrel of water, where he proceeded to wash his face. He finished, then looked around and almost swore. The camp was nearly all gone. The only tents left were his, Master Beris’s, and the captain’s, the latter being dismantled as he watched.

Kaleb caught sight of several men coming towards his tent, and he stepped back in quickly bringing his luggage outside as they began taking the tent apart.

He spotted Yez coming from the other side of what used to be the camp.

“Morning,” his friend called. “Ready to depart?”

“Morning,” Kaleb said. “I suppose I am. Up early?”

”Earlier than you think.” Yez chuckled then gestured towards a closed carriage in the distance. Two bull-like animals were harnessed in front. Kaleb knew them to be apiers, a local domesticated animal that was much more docile than earth’s bull. Unlike horses, though, it couldn’t be ridden. In fact, Kaleb hadn’t seen anyone riding anything in echelon since he’d come. Some people had brought livestock through the portal, but Echelon’s Arrival hadn’t brought any horses with it. “Apprentice Miryodel is already waiting in the carriage. Perhaps you’d like to finally meet him.”

Kaleb nodded, hauling his luggage. “I suppose I should.” Yezdriel offered a hand with the luggage, which Kaleb accepted. They walked to the carriage and deposited the luggage, where it would be tightly secured later. Kaleb stepped up to the door and opened it, climbing the two steps into the interior.

Inside sat a quill close to Kaleb’s age, if he were to guess. He had a book in his hand, but instead of reading it, he was looking out of the open window on the other side of the carriage. His attention turned towards Kaleb as he heard him climb inside.

“Greetings,” Kaleb said as he took a seat opposite the surprised quill. The seat was comfortable enough and the carriage wasn’t cramped, he noted.

“Greetings,” the quill said. “Ah, you must be Master Beris’s new apprentice.”

“I’m not his apprentice,” Kaleb said. “I have an agreement with him, only for the duration of this campaign.”

The quill nodded. “I see. I am Miryodel.”

“I am Kaleb. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you,” Miryodel said. “If you’re not Master Beris’s apprentice, then who taught you magecraft?”

Kaleb hesitated. He didn’t want to go around giving a detailed description of his node to whoever asked for it. He also couldn’t say that he wasn’t taught by anybody, given that one couldn’t learn magic by themselves. Perhaps word would get around the company about his ability over time anyway, but he wasn’t keen on being too liberal with his secrets if people kept theirs close in this world. So he gave as ambiguous an answer as he could. “It’s complicated.”

“Ah, I see.” Miryodel nodded. “I’d thought you were like me.”

“Like you?” Kaleb asked. He remembered Master Beris calling the apprentice half-grown for some reason, but he wasn’t about to tell him that.

“I used to have a master,” Miryodel said with no particular emotion. Then he smiled. “I’m now on my own, however.”

“Why?” Kaleb asked. If the quill had had a master and he’d learned some magic from him, then he’d paid his dues and had been set to collect his rewards.

A shade seemed to come over the quill’s face. “He wasn’t very kind,” he paused, “or perhaps I wasn’t a very good student.” He lowered his eyes.

Kaleb didn’t know what to say to that, and an odd silence permeated the interior of the carriage.

Miryodel broke it with a question as if forgetting the previous topic. “So you came in the Arrival. Is it true your world was endangered?”

“Yes,” Kaleb said, remembering earth and the encroaching threat that had driven them here. He wondered what happened to those who had stayed. Then it came to mind how many races existed in this world, and how he’d never heard how they’d gotten here. The past year and half had been so hectic and pressured, from learning the language to adapting to the environment, that he hadn’t gotten a chance to question any of what he’d seen. Few, like Diego, had. “How about your people? How did you come here?”

“You don’t know?” Miryodel said, looking genuinely surprised. When he saw how serious Kaleb’s reaction was, he continued, “like you, through the rifts.”

“So you were also escaping them?” Kaleb said.

“Them?” The quill began to look perplexed. “No…when the rifts first appeared in our world, they were met with panic, but eventually they were simply avoided. A few adventurous souls decided to wander into them, and that’s how our presence here began, or at least that’s what our histories say.”

“Huh.” Kaleb pinched his bottom lip, something nagging at him. Humanity had discovered the impending threat through advanced technology. Would a less advanced species have been able to duplicate that feat? Probably not. “So you don’t know what happened to your world after your people came here?”

Miryodel shook his head. “Some of us have been trying to find their way back using magic, even though the Pioneers claim that our world has already been doomed by some calamity.”

“Wait,” Kaleb said. “The Pioneers are saying that your world was beset by a calamity? What kind of calamity?”

“I don’t know,” Miryodel. “‘An encroaching evil’ or some such. Religious drivel.”

“What about the other races?” Kaleb asked. “How did they come here?”

Miryodel looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, nobody knows much about Pioneers and the Runed except themselves, and no one dares question the Reapers about anything.” He chuckled at the last part. “I’m, however, certain that the claytons have a similar history to ours. Though their people came in greater numbers. We proliferated fast enough to stand toe-to-toe with them, however. As for the youngest race, the gruck, they arrived just a few centuries ago in numbers, though not comparable to yours. As for the other races, I’m not certain.”

Kaleb noted that there was apparently a race called Runed that he’d never heard of before, but he pushed that to the side for now. He was more interested in knowing what the hell was going on in this world. Originally, their status as refugees and the supernatural aspects of the world had partially blinded him to the fact that it was odd for multiple intelligent races to have appeared on the same world like this. Now he was finding out that humanity hadn’t been the first Arrival, and this world might have as well been made of previous refugees. “Do you know how the portals–the rifts–came to be?”

Miryodel shook his head. “Those of status among my people say it is magic. The Pioneers claim it is the Risen that tear reality apart to help the peoples threatened by this ‘evil’ escape. None can prove a thing.”

Kaleb leaned back in his seat. If the portals opened on worlds that were endangered by whatever had been approaching earth, then it would make sense for the only race that had actually discovered said danger, namely humans, to arrive on Refugium in the highest numbers, since they’d know it was the only way out. Who would have stepped into something as incomprehensible as floating, colorful, disks if an existential threat hadn’t been at their doorstep? Perhaps the adventurous spirits, as Miryodel had put it. Questions upon questions rained down on Kaleb’s mind. It seemed he’d have to go to one of the Temples of the Risen the first chance he got.

His thoughts were interrupted by Master Beris’s entrance into the carriage. The mage gestured for Kaleb to move over next to Miryodel so he could have the seat opposite them for himself. Kaleb did as instructed.

The clayton took a seat opposite him, laying a book on his lap, the same rare book he’d bought yesterday, House Ulvyr’s Collection. He didn’t open it, but looked at Kaleb instead. “It’s about time you learned the runes.”