Elion was still laying on the bed, considering possible ways off of the island, when Keyla came back into the room with dinner. She placed a plate of steaming vegetables on the bedside table, but didn’t look at him. Avoiding her eyes, he noticed her hands; tough, strong, and calloused from working on machines, but with delicate, precise fingers for intricate craftsmanship. She wore her nails practically, cut short, and unpainted.

He expected a quip, an angry jab, or some other retort from her, but she said nothing. Elion squirmed. Liora hadn’t been the type to use the silent treatment. She usually yelled and screamed, and Elion yelled back, fighting with her until their emotions blew over into a tenuous truce, the peaceful existence of people too tired to keep fighting.

Keyla’s silence bothered him. It highlighted his immature outburst, somehow throwing it back in his face in a way he didn’t know was possible. Keyla left the room without saying a word. Depressed, he ate what he could of the strange vegetables, then lay back on the bed.

From Gorman’s explanation of the island, Elion listed possible methods of escape. I can cross the bridge, or find a boat Obviously he couldn’t cross the bridge, not unless something could be done about the Shard.

The Aterfel Guard would never allow him to lower the bridge, and even if he managed to do it without getting shot, he’d be killed by the pemalion on the other side. Besides, it would leave the town vulnerable to another attack.

By boat though… If he could find a boat, and get it into the river, he would probably be able to float downstream until the gorge widened and the river slowed. The steep cliffs around the island might present a challenge. He would have to put into the river somewhere that wouldn’t float him past the pirate scavengers. Or hope they wouldn’t notice a single guy in a small boat.

Gorman had mentioned ships traveling up and down the river, so there probably weren’t killer waterfalls in the way. It would just be a matter of finding a boat, or even just something he could float in. Maybe there’d be something like that in Gorman’s garage.

Then what? He didn’t know what happened to Zev, but he had an idea of where Liora was: Dorian’s Palace. Step one: Get off the island. Step two: Find the palace. Step three: We’ll come back to that. Step four: Rescue Liora. And Zev too.

Elion sighed. He really had no idea what he was doing. Just focus on the next step. Get off the island.

Soon he would be away from this place, and he’d never have to think about Keyla again.

But when he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Her crystal blue eyes, sparkling beneath a fringe of brown hair that had escaped her braid. A smile beneath her freckled cheeks, accusing him.

Her cold, icy demeanor, bullied, blamed him for everything that had happened. Worse than this; Elion worried she was right.

Elion sat up in bed, furious with himself. He paced across the room, wrestling with his feelings.

He had to act fast. Dorian would find him soon if he stayed. He had to get a move on, get away from here. Revised step one: Find a boat.

Gorman had stayed behind to monitor the status of the bridge. Keyla would go to sleep, and then Elion could slip down into the garage and start searching for a vessel. A large barrel should do the trick. He turned off the light, pretending to be asleep, but listening at the door, fighting drowsiness from his eyes.

When everything had been quiet for a long time, he carefully opened the door and slipped out into the hall. He had to be sure she was down for the night, so he crept into the living area.

Keyla’s form lay strewn across the couch. Her boots and overalls lay discarded on the floor beside her. A heavy blanket pulled up to her chin obscured her body, but she lay with one bare leg propped up on the back of the couch.

Remembering Keyla’s earlier threat to punch him in the throat, Elion stayed well out of range. Her toenails were painted bright red, a surprising contrast to her pragmatic exterior.

The rhythmic sound of breathing filled the room. Elion peered through the gloom at Keyla’s face. She slept soundly, chest rising and falling gently. He forced himself away before he caught a stray fist in his esophagus.

Back through the hall, Elion slipped down the stairs to the garage area, ready to start searching for materials to build his boat. The other patients had all been removed to their homes, but Kasm still lay sleeping on his table-turned-bed.

A chair scraped, and cloth rustled nearby. Someone else was in the room. Elion stood perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe as he listened carefully.

A sharp click from a switch being flipped pierced the silence. Light on the other side of the central column glowed teal in the darkness. From where he stood, Elion saw the edge of Gorman’s broad shoulder, the rest of the man hidden behind the central column.

Gorman sat at a set of equipment in the central pillar. A few more clicks and taps, and Elion heard the hiss of static, then silence.

“Sorry,” Gorman said softly. “I’m back.”

Silence.

“Yeah, definitely. It’s him for sure,” he said.

Another pause as Gorman listened.

“I want him gone before we make our move,” he said. “He’s a distraction. People are getting worked up about it. Besides, I want to claim the reward.”

Elion’s heart began pounding in his chest. Is he talking about me?

“We’ve got it temporarily patched up, but I don’t know how long it’ll hold. Don’t have a great replacement for the relay yet… I know that moves up the timeline, but with your help… Yes, that makes sense… You know we need your help to get trade flowing again. Okay. Okay. I’ll wait to hear what he says.”

Another sharp click, and the call ended. Gorman stood, his chair screeching across the concrete floor as he stood. The big man rolled his neck and stretched out his shoulders, then started walking toward Elion.

Elion slipped to the side, keeping the pillar between him and Gorman. He ducked behind a set of shelves, hiding in the shadows. Peering through a gap, he watched Gorman climb the steps out of the garage.

After several minutes, when Elion was confident the coast was clear, he slipped over to the transmitter.

Several knobs and dials on one portion of the machine reminded Elion of an old radio transmitter. A headset hung on a hook nearby. Could this be a way to try to contact Zev?

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

He sat on a chair beside the transmitter, and put on the headset, pulling the microphone down toward his mouth. He fiddled with the knobs, adjusting dials and listening to static.

“How do I use this?” he muttered to himself. His vision immediately populated with tags and translations, like an augmented reality overlay on his sight.

“Oh,” he said, startled. “Thanks Praxis.”

He scanned through the labels, and realized he was missing a piece of headwear. A large helmet fit over the top of the headphones, like he was some kind of fighter pilot.

A prominent button indicated as the << Transmission >> switch tempted him. How did this machine even work? Was there a way to send a message to Zev directly?

“How do I contact someone specific?” he asked. Praxis did not offer any additional information.

A blinking red light in the corner of the screen was labeled ‘insufficient power level.’ Another notification said ‘missing target.’

Should I try it? His fingers hovered over the << Transmission >> button. Bad idea. He’d be more likely to catch the attention of Dorian than to reach Zev. He needed to figure out how to use this transmitter. Maybe Gorman or Keyla would drop some information.

Riding a barrel down an unknown river on an alien planet now seemed like a horrible idea. If Elion could reach Zev, they’d be able to make a plan. Zev might even come here. He could risk another day or two, and use his raft plan as a backup.

Assuming Zev was still alive. Don’t think about that.

Elion tiptoed back to bed. Quiet and careful, so as to not wake Keyla or Gorman, he eased the door shut. In bed, he drifted off to sleep, exhaustion overtaking him as he imagined joining with Zev to rescue Liora.

Gorman made good on his offer to help Elion learn. They sat in Gorman’s garage together, light streaming in through the windows.

“As Artificers, we follow a different path from you,” Gorman explained. “But the fundamentals are all the same. We interact with Praxis, the keeper of Sentinel power. Various factions hold differing beliefs about the nature of Praxis, but that doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in philosophy, I’m interested in action.”

Elion nodded, trying to pay attention to Gorman, but finding himself distracted, wondering who the man had been talking to the night before. Gorman had definitely been talking about him, telling someone about him. Innocent? Or sinister? Elion leaned toward sinister, considering talk of collecting a reward.

“Now, I know you’ve found it easiest to speak aloud your intentions to Praxis,” Gorman continued. “But this is not necessary. Intention is what matters. I want you to call up the interface without speaking aloud. It’s important, because if you’re ever stuck in a situation where you can’t speak, you still need to be able to access your skills.”

Elion tried. He closed his eyes. He thought about Praxis, remembering all the times that the floating text had appeared in his vision. His mind wandered back to Gorman’s late night call. Could Gorman have been contacting Dorian? Elion hoped not. He tried to remember what else Gorman had been discussing on the call.

He turned his attention back to the task at hand. “I’m not getting anything,” Elion said. “I’m focusing on Praxis. I want it to open.”

“Try to be more specific. Praxis isn’t like a program that you activate or deactivate. It’s always there, helping you. Try to access something, like your profile.”

Elion remembered seeing profile text before, and tried calling it up. Rummaging around in his head, trying to find the right intention and focus, he felt something switch, and text appeared in his vision.

<< Name: Elion James Walker >>

‎ << House: Starhold >>

‎ << Ascendency: Aurelian Path of Dawn >>

‎ << Level/XP: 0/0 >>

‎ << Abilities (Level): Manifest Armaments (0), Save a Friend (0) >>

‎ << Boons: Translation >>

‎ << Quests: None >>

He reviewed the text, information suddenly much more meaningful to him than it had been before.

“You got it,” Gorman said, noticing the look on Elion’s face.

“Yeah,” Elion said, reading the lines of the profile. “Level zero, with zero xp,” he commented. “So I guess this is my tutorial island. How do I get experience?”

“How do you expect?” Gorman asked, grinning. The man was being oddly friendly today. “You practice. It’s hard to get experience, though. It can take weeks of focused training to gain a single point.”

Elion wondered what practicing something like “Save a Friend” would look like. Did using it on Kasm count? “What about levels?” Elion asked.

“Everyone starts at zero. You level when you hit experience thresholds, and you improve your skills or select new ones. The cumulative equation is two to the power of the level you’re trying to reach, so the additional experience requirement doubles every level.”

“Yeah, okay,” Elion said, trying to follow. “What does that look like in non-math terms?”

“Sorry!” Gorman said with a laugh. “I forget that not everyone likes measurements, plans, and figures as much as Artificers. For the sake of simplicity, think of level ten as a lifetime of training. There are ways to climb that ladder more quickly and reach higher levels, but most will cap out at around fifteen.”

“What level are you?” Elion asked.

Gorman raised his eyebrows. “That’s personal,” he said. “And there’s no use going around asking people their levels, because many will just lie to you. Besides, base levels don’t tell you as much about an Ascended as what their skill levels are. Those matter more.”

Elion didn’t see why the man would be testy about sharing his level, but decided not to press the issue.

“What is the highest level anyone has ever achieved?” Elion asked.

“There are rumors,” Gorman said. “Again, most Ascended don’t go around sharing that information. But heroes in legends are often said to have forty or more levels.”

Gorman groaned, stretched, and stood from his chair.

“You keep practicing,” he said. “Refresh your ability on Kasm. I need to get back to the bridge and make sure everything is holding up. We’re going to add a locking mechanism so that the bridge doesn’t drop back down if the power fails. Something I should have done back when we first adapted the thing to go up and down, but never got around to it.”

“I have another ability too,” Elion said. “Manifest Armaments. Do you know what it does?”

“Ah, yes, I’d imagine that’s your Ascended state,” Gorman said.

“I haven’t tried it yet because you warned me to be careful. Is there somewhere I can go to experiment with it in private?”

“That’s a good idea,” Gorman said. “I’m sure we can figure out something. I’ll think about it and let you know. I’m glad you’re reigning in your impulses.”

Elion nodded. “I want to practice and gain experience, but I don’t want to cause more trouble for you. Thanks for the lesson,” he said. “And for your hospitality here. I’ll need to be getting out of your hair soon.”

“Ah, well, I suppose that’s true,” Gorman said. “No need to rush though.”

Gorman left, leaving Elion to wonder at the man’s sudden change of tune. Before, he had seemed so worried about getting rid of Elion.