Chas strode ahead of me through the Tower's endless hallways, pausing at each intersection to squint at the wall markers. Identical corridors stretched in every direction, and I'd lost sight of the atrium ages ago.

"Are you sure we're on the seventh floor?" The walls blurred together, each turn leading us deeper into the maze.

"I've been to half a dozen worlds more complicated than this Tower." Chas squared his shoulders. "Trust me, we're on the seventh floor."

"This is the twelfth."

The voice behind us sent my pulse skyrocketing. I spun to find Gary standing there, eyes swirling like galaxies in his pale face.

"How the hell do you keep doing that?" I snapped, my voice bouncing off the walls.

Gary's lips curved upward. "I wanted to see how long it would take the Blackwood to ask for help. But as expected, his stubbornness is the stuff of legend." He gestured to a doorway that materialized beside him—in a wall I swore had been solid moments ago. "This way, please."

Great. How the hell was I supposed to live in this Tower for a week?

The moment we stepped onto the seventh floor, everything changed. Mana pressed against my skin, thick enough to taste. Stark hallways gave way to plush carpets that muffled our footsteps. Warm light spilled from ornate fixtures, casting everything in gold. The scent of jasmine and paper filled my lungs. Hunters moved between rooms, their voices a constant murmur through the walls.

My eyes struggled to adjust to the brightness, sending spots dancing across my vision.

"You've been cleared to stay in the Tower for the week leading up to the Grand Tournament," Gary said, pressing a cold silver bracelet into my palm. "This will allow you to return to this floor from anywhere in the Tower, provided you have enough mana to feed into it. Your quarters are numbered 121."

I turned to Chas, catching his grin, but when I looked back to question Gary, empty air filled the space where he'd stood. Typical.

"A week until the Grand Tournament," I muttered, running my thumb over the bracelet's smooth surface. "If I place in the top five, I get to stay and go to Sylvarus. If not, I get thrown into the Multiverse and left to my own devices. This world sucks."

"Yup!" Chas pulled a pack from his what I assumed was his Mana Sanctum and dug out a flask. "That's why I try not to be on it as much as possible."

"What are my chances?" The metal of the bracelet warmed against my skin.

Chas paused with the flask halfway to his mouth. "Much better if we can get your Seal properly bound." He took a long drink.

"Wait—for the Tournament or through a portal?"

"Same for both." The liquid sloshed as he shrugged. "We've got a lot of work to do, either way. The best part is that Maris broke so many treaties and laws, we can basically do whatever the fuck we want to get you Tournament ready."

I held out my hand for the flask. "Wait, that whole 'no special treatment' thing I've been suffering through?"

"Kid, everyone gets special treatment." He scoffed, passing me the flask and flicking my earring. "Especially you. Now we just get to be flagrant about it."

"A week's not a long time," I muttered, approaching room 121. The flask's contents hit my tongue, and I nearly choked. "This is fucking whiskey!"

Chas snatched the flask back, eyes darting down the hallway. "Keep it down. Maris may have driven a boat into the island, but her people are still merchants, and they brought at least twenty boats of supplies."

"One minute you're beating the shit out of each other, the next you're bartering over booze?"

"That's Ark, kid!" He threw open the door with a flourish.

The room stretched wider than expected. A bed lined one wall, flanked by a writing desk and what looked like a compositor. A meditation mat spread across the floor. But Red's massive form already occupied the bed, his red fur stark against the white sheets. He lifted his head as we entered, then bounded over, nose twitching toward Chas's pack.

Chas dropped into the desk chair with a creak. "You said a week isn't a lot of time, but I'll be fucked if you haven't done more Runebinding in one week than most manage in years. You've found a path, and now we just get to push you down it. Maris has a week to gather combatants. Plus, no one above Adept can join. You've got a real shot."

"Diana mentioned prizes for the top three. Any idea what they are? I just want to place so I can stay... but..."

Chas's laugh filled the room. "Who can say no to prizes? I may have zoned out when they went over everything, but the grand prize is—get this—Maris's fucking boat."

A low whistle escaped my lips. "Bet she didn't like that."

"Absolutely not. That's why she's going to stack the Tournament with heavy hitters. She thinks she's in the right, and this is how it'll get settled."

My fingers sank into Red's fur as I scratched behind his ears. "I want the boat."

Chas's grin widened. "Damn right you do." His eyes flicked down to my empty hands, then shifted to Red. "Uh... Collect your Mana Beast and let's go meet a friend."

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

The lobby hit my senses with familiar intensity - polished marble paths winding through a contained jungle, the stark boundary between civilization and wilderness. Damp earth and tangled vines filled the air, ancient columns disappearing into the canopy while unseen creatures stirred in the foliage.

Red's claws clicked against stone as we passed the Front Desk. The Vildar receptionist's wary look lasted exactly three seconds before melting into undisguised adoration. She barely glanced at me while reaching under the desk for a dried meat strip, which Red accepted with predictable enthusiasm.

"This is how it starts, kid," Chas grinned. "You'll have him running the Tower by the end of the week."

We descended massive alabaster steps, the Tower's weight pressing down as we moved deeper. Now that I was more used to mana I could feel something heavy in the air, like there was more to this Lobby than I could simply see.

"Your familiar is really interesting," Chas mused, his boots echoing off marble.

"Diana mentioned that dogs like him are extinct... or close to it anyway." I watched Red trot ahead, tail swaying.

"Well yeah, that's weird enough. But what he did to that Spirit Steel dagger?" Excitement crept into Chas's voice. "That was something else. With a single sound, he removed its purpose. He didn't destroy it—he unmade it. That's some next-level mana manipulation. I've seen high-tier mana beasts pull off crazy shit, but that? That one's way up there." He punctuated the thought with another pull from his flask.

I exhaled, glancing at Red. "Yeah, I'm starting to think there's more to him than just being a dog." The path opened into a sprawling courtyard. "But he sure acts like every dog I've ever known, so maybe that's just what dogs with mana are like."

A small crowd had gathered in the courtyard's center. An Albinus Vildar in flowing green robes circled a Gaian man, his staff tapping against the ground as he gave instructions. His voice carried across the space with clear composure.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"You see here—the combatant is ready for a strike. Anything I can produce, he can actively react to." The staff cut through the air in a deliberate arc. The Gaian's foot snapped up to block, bracing against the blow.

"But what if the strike wasn't my intention?" The Vildar shifted his weight forward. The Gaian stumbled, caught off guard, and in a single smooth motion, the Vildar swept his legs out.

"This is particularly important when engaging with monsters," the instructor continued. "Do not simply strike your opponent. You must overwhelm them. Do not let your ego stop at a single attack, no matter how skilled you may think you are."

The crowd murmured as they processed the lesson. The way his strikes flowed into each other sent a familiar itch of fascination crawling under my skin. I leaned forward, drawn to the efficiency of it. Bravery hummed in the back of my mind while Red sat beside me, his tail thumping lazily as passersby cooed at him.

As the crowd dispersed, Chas nudged me forward. "I've heard you fight like the Vildar do. This is Jeremy Sky—or Master Skyshatter if you want to get formal. He'll—"

"No shit." The words escaped before I could stop them. "It's actually Jeremy! We keep missing each other at Doreen's."

Jeremy's eyes swept over me, his staff planted firmly beside him. "Yes, my wife has told me much about you, Breaker."

My brain stuttered. Wife? Doreen? She'd never mentioned that.

Jeremy didn't linger on my confusion. "Charles has asked me to teach you about your martial sigils," he said, studying me with quiet intensity. "Bravery, is it?"

Chas's face twisted at the full use of his name, but I nodded. Jeremy stepped closer, tapping me lightly with his staff.

"I also have Valor," I added quickly. "But it's a Seal, and I can't really use it without running out of mana. It doesn't seem to want to turn off."

"You're binding Bravery now, yes?"

I barely managed a nod before danger screamed through my mind.

Instinct took over. My body twisted as Jeremy's staff blurred downward. Mana drained from me in a rush, but the air here was thick with it, feeding back into my pathways even as it pulled away.

Jeremy moved like flowing water, his staff cutting through the air in impossibly quick strikes—one at my head, one at my legs. The wood whistled with enough force to make my ears ring.

Bravery propelled me into each dodge, but every movement cost me. Jeremy's speed was relentless. Then he froze—just for a second. His wrist snapped, and the staff shot toward me like a throwing star, spinning horizontally in a deadly arc.

Bravery screamed at me to back up, but Jeremy was already there, gliding into the space where I would have dodged. The staff missed my shoulder by a breath before landing perfectly in his outstretched hand. My momentum carried me straight toward him.

He pressed forward. Each strike faster than the last. The staff became a blur, testing, probing. Bravery struggled to keep up with the sheer precision of his attacks.

A pattern emerged through the chaos. I spun on my heel, summoning my own bent staff in a flash of mana, intercepting his next strike. The impact rattled my bones as he pressed down before sweeping low again. I jumped back, barely avoiding the strike.

Jeremy stilled; sharp eyes locked onto mine. The weight of his presence settled over me, but I didn't move. The world narrowed to just his movements. The courtyard, the murmurs of the crowd, even Red—everything else faded.

Then I saw it. A tell. His left ear twitched.

The attack came from the right—low and fast. I knocked it aside, but the movement was a feint. The real strike slammed into my knee, sending pain flaring through my leg. I stumbled but thrust forward in desperation, aiming for his center.

Jeremy leapt back, just out of reach, teeth flashing in an almost smile.

"You have excellent pattern recognition, Breaker," he said, voice steady despite our exchange. "This is not the first time you've sparred with someone better. You recognize attack patterns, you react accordingly. But..." He tilted his head. "You seem reluctant to strike back."

I let out a breathless laugh, still rubbing my knee. "Yeah, I've heard that before."

Chas leaned against a nearby pillar, looking far too amused. "So, you think you can train him in a week?"

Jeremy studied me for a moment before resting his staff against the ground. "I can certainly try."

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

"You rely on Bravery too much," Chas said as we pushed through the jungle's undergrowth. Jeremy had agreed to morning training sessions, but Chas seemed more interested in unlearning half of what I'd figured out so far.

"It's a good sigil, a lot like mine," he continued, ducking under a branch. "But you're forgetting what makes it work."

I swatted a vine away. "What's that?"

"Radiance, right? You were all impressive recognizing it in Felix's bracer. So what does it do?"

I stopped walking, heat creeping up my neck. "I actually have no idea. Up to this point, I've only been using it to make Bravery work. It's just... light, right? By the way, how do I get one of those bracers? They seem useful."

"Nah, you don't want one of those," Chas scoffed. "They're brutally expensive. Plus, you'd have your nose stuffed in books just to understand a couple of extra sigils. They're old Arcadian techno-magic, designed to store representations of sigils to remind you what a spell looks like. But you've gotta know the spell in the first place. Beyond that, I don't pay much attention to 'em."

I let out a dry laugh. "I really need to get to Sylvarus and learn more about... everything."

The trees thinned as we approached a familiar stretch of river—the same spot where I'd first encountered the Lutrin. Sunlight dappled the water, casting shifting patterns across the stones beneath.

"Finally! I've been waiting for hours."

Cass perched on a rock at the water's edge, feet dangling in the current. Red bounded toward her the moment he saw her, tail whipping as he tried to lick her face. She held him off with one arm, laughing as he wriggled against her grip.

Chas shot me a look, but I jumped in first. "Chas got us lost in the Tower."

"I did not get us lost," Chas protested, but his indignation only made Cass smirk.

"Yeah, that tracks," she said. "So, why exactly have I been waiting out here all night?"

Chas laid out everything—the Grand Tournament, my chance to stay on Ark, and the grand prize boat.

Cass's mouth fell open. "They'll let you stay? After all that? I was... well..." She hesitated, gaze flicking between us.

I reached out to help her up, even though we both knew she didn't need it. "We get to break some rules to train for the tournament, I guess."

"You're still my apprentice, Cassie," Chas added, shifting his weight. "So the offer's there for you too. I know you're all about making your own path, though, so I'm not holding my breath."

"Fuck that." Cass's voice cracked like a whip. "I just watched a boat the size of a mountain rip through my home. I'm going to take the gods-damned thing from her. My mom would love that."

I glanced at Chas, who looked as stunned as I felt.

"Well, it's about time," he said, grinning. "Have you seen Lagniappe?"

"He got tired of waiting for you and left." Cass rolled her eyes. "For a Mana Beast, he's got more patience than most people I know."

Chas groaned, throwing his hands up. "Fine. Follow me."

We walked along the river, the jungle breathing around us—leaves rustling, birds calling, water lapping against the banks. Bravery hummed in the back of my mind, but for the first time in ages, everything felt simple. Despite the weight hanging over my head, this moment was peaceful.

"You remember what the Lobby is, right, Cassie?" Chas broke through the quiet.

Cass glanced his way. "You said it was something like a spirit realm but tied to the Tower."

"Anchored," Chas corrected. "But close enough. This one's particularly interesting because it has so many layers. You've seen one of the outermost layers down the Grand Staircase, but there are others attached. We're looking for another one. If we had Lagniappe, it would be much easier."

The jungle grew wilder with each step, branches reaching across our path. The river widened, its gentle flow shifting into a deep, rushing current.

"Well, it's about damn time," a familiar voice called from behind us.

I turned as golden fur broke through the water's surface. Lagniappe rose from the river, water streaming off his coat. His sharp eyes swept over us before settling on Red.

"Oh, now there's somethin' you don't see every day," Lagniappe murmured, lowering his head toward Red. "Glad to see you're still kickin', Cher."

Red's ears perked, tail swaying slowly.

"What took you so long, Charles?" Lagniappe's tone dripped with sarcasm.

"Oh, he got lost," Cass jumped in, flashing a wicked grin.

Lagniappe's deep chuckle rolled over us. "Oh yeah, that tracks."

A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "Wait—you know him?" I gestured to Red.

"Naw, wouldn't say I know him," Lagniappe drawled. "But I've heard of your friend there. He's been on the island for a good while, is all. Didn't think we'd ever see him in here."

I patted Red's side, filing that away. "Good to know."

"So, where exactly are we going?"

"Well, we've got to get Cass sorted with her Seal." Chas's casual tone didn't match the tension in his shoulders. "And we need to stabilize yours. So... we're going to break a few rules."

"By a few, Charles means most of them, Cher." Lagniappe's grin revealed sharp teeth. "And you just walked right past it."

He nodded across the river at what looked like a clean slice through the treeline.

The cut was subtle—a perfectly straight corridor through dense jungle. We waded across the river, the water reaching my waist. How Lagniappe had submerged his massive frame earlier remained a mystery.

As we approached, something shifted in the air. Halfway down the tree corridor, a blue glow pulsed faintly, accompanied by a low buzz that made my teeth ache.

"You'll want these." Chas pulled two armor boxes from nowhere.

Cass and I exchanged looks, her concern mirroring mine.

"We're going on a little trip," he added with a grin that did nothing to ease my nerves.

We suited up quickly.

"Good luck." Lagniappe's golden eyes glinted as he sank beneath the river's surface, leaving only ripples behind.

We approached the swirling portal. The energy had taken shape now, a luminous blue field stretching across the corridor, thrumming like a heartbeat.

"Oh great." I clenched my fists. "I have such good luck with portals."

"Relax, we'll go through first—just like last time." Chas clapped my shoulder. "We're not actually leaving the Lobby, so no issues."

Cass rolled her eyes but stepped forward with Chas. They vanished the moment they touched the swirling surface.

Red and I stood alone before the portal. It didn't cast light—it just existed, humming with quiet menace.

I glanced down at Red. He tilted his head, ears flicking forward. His uncertainty mirrored mine, but Bravery wouldn't let me back down.

I took a deep breath. "Here we go," I muttered, stepping into the blue.