The First Halo of Ciazel,

The city of Reynor,

Committee’s Say: CLASSIFIED

Once again, Rhodes found herself irked by the stale must of air uncirculated since yesteryear. She squirmed on the rock-like seats, ignoring the whispers edging into the shut-eye she fought for, her brimmed hat perched on the bridge of her nose.

“Is it me, or is the hair on Archon Quiet's head a making of forgery?”

“Melaine,” Olive hissed. “He can hear you.”

“All the better.”

“To gossip in the presence of this kind of audience… Only you, Mel. You, as well as—”

“Don’t lump me with her.” Fiona offered a lazy smile and jabbed her hat up, relenting and joining in on the conversation. “She’s on an entire level of her own.”

Melaine grinned, an emerald-green gaze so bright it cut through the dusky ambience of Committee’s Say. Luscious dark hair cropped right past her ears, energy brimmed against her adventurer leathers— run-of-the-mill of a mage daring to brave the wildlands outside the Outer Wall.

“I was going to say Alan, actually.” Olive adjusted thin-framed eyewear, legs crossed and voice no louder than the hush of conversation across the room. She’d strike anyone as composed—clad in a cloth skirt and a blouse—but Rhodes could never fully alleviate the formidable sight of the woman in battle.

“Isn’t this a scary gathering of ladies.”

Captain Rhodes’ eyebrow twitched up at the interjection, lips arching upwards as she recognized the sharp, yet at the same time, the dull metallic aura of the man joining their group.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” She grinned. “Kaleb Kane—or should I say—Metal Incarnate.”

“Whichever suits you.” He mirrored her expression.

She pointed to Olive. “Here to see your guildmate?”

“I wanted to pick your brain on a subject, Rhodes. I—.”

“The intermission has officially ended. Number twenty-three of the fifth assembly, would you please stand,” a member announced, voice strengthened by an arcane art.

Captain Rhodes rose to her feet, nodding to the Kidraan man. We’ll talk later. Magus Kane returned the gesture, disappearing into the proximate aisles and melting into the surrounding darkness.

“Is there a particular reason you’re in the Assembly of Mercenaries, Captain Rhodes?” the announcer went on, letting loose a snide remark behind the protection of obscurity.

Heads turned, a myriad of expressions visible as circular rows of members faced her. A dais as its center, lighting dimmed as one’s distance from the podium grew. Stationed at the darkened edges of Committee’s Say, the announcer was one of the rare few of his kind able to engage in an action besides voting, deprived of the right to choose.

“I believe an intermission had just been resolved,” she answered.

“It’s illegal to mingle with other Assemblies as it can be a cause for bias.”

“Four people before me followed the very same actions as my own.”

“That doesn’t change the—”

“It does.” Captain Rhodes made a point to head into the aisles, strolling in the opposite direction of him, towards the blinding center. “You’re wasting more time than needed. I say we carry on.”

“I agree.”

A hush settled onto the room as one of the Chairs spoke. Several broad beams spilled from the ceiling, unveiling the presence of five Archons resting upon thrones of rose-coloured stone. Opposite of the abounding rumours, these mages seemed no different than the people she’d bump into outside, besides the extravagant robes they were clad in.

And that was the scary part.

To keep such a tight leash on aether emanation to a point where she perceived them no differently as the chairs they sat on was hair-rising.

Archon Quiet propped his chin using a closed fist. “As much as I would love to hear more about the falsities upon my scalp—”

Rhodes stifled a snort. I’m never going to hear the end of it from Mel, aren’t I?

“—please, state your name for the records.” Archon Quiet was Kidraan, sea-blue eyes simmering with power and dark skin smooth, betraying his known ancient age.

“Fiona Rhodes, Captain of the armed forces, the twenty-fifth of the Military Assembly.”

To the distant side of the Chairs, a scribe scribbled down the notes on his stool, looking no different than a Thundertail caught in the sight of a spell. Better than those dreaded automatic transcriptions mother employs.

“Your primary choice, dear,” Archon Lenson asked, grey eyes twinkling like she knew her choice already.

“Carielle Hayes.”

“Saintsdammit.”

An adventurer cursed where they sat and scraped their pen across their notepad. Waves coursed throughout certain assemblies at the announcement and Rhodes noted exactly who she was to cater to. Seems like you pulled an abundance of eyes, Carielle.

Rhodes pushed aether into the channels within the soles of her feet and tapped her boot on the glass dais. Blue runes branched out all around the levitated circle, returning to dormancy as she pulled a device fresh out of her spatial pocket at a thought.

Swiping up on the IBR tablet, hovering screens of illusion-based videos appeared. She let the varied footage of Carielle play and it was as if she casted a mind spell.

Officers, Defenders, mercenaries, adventurers—the majority of combat-focused assemblies leaned forward in their seats, entranced by the surprising technical skill the lumbering teen displayed in weaponry.

A video played Carielle shimming up her greataxe’s shaft to give a false sense of her range during a scuffle between an enemy team. In a vital moment, she extended like a tripped trap, cornering the participant in a precise manner.

Naturally, there was room for improvement, but for a sixteen-year-old to own that much finesse? The reaction of the weathered elementalists said it all.

Captain Rhodes could admit she was a little sad to tap her foot again, killing the energy to the holographic-like screens.

“As much as I know we could watch her all day, I want you to take a look at Miss Hayes’ stats,” Rhodes said. “I sent it to you all.”

Rhodes watched as eyes traced the lines of Carielle’s record—92% in the first exam, 98% in the second, and double the required points in the third. When they reached the script she hoped they would, their eyes bulged out of their sockets. “No, what you are seeing is not an error. Indeed, Miss Hayes’ initial ASC is 171.”

“That can’t be.” A Kidraan man stood and the ceiling shed a beam to make him visible. Rhodes recognized the doubter and hid a sneer as the repulsive memories of his son’s trial attempt popped up in her mind. He sifted a hand through a thick beard. “We should’ve known as soon as she turned twelve, during Deduction Day.”

“The key words there are ‘should have’,” Rhodes said. “After all, there is a reason we conduct tests prior to the second exam, Mister Tamaan.”

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“My goodness,” someone else muttered. “She has more aether strands than half the scions of the First Halo.”

A vein popped across the man’s brow and he sat down with a huff, knowing his son was part of that half.

“Exactly.” Rhodes pointed at the woman who spoke. “Not only has she excelled in the past within school both academically-wise and combat-wise, she never faltered despite the slights hurled at her. This young lady has fought to make her presence known and now it’s hard not to take notice of her. An Aether Artifact would flourish under her hands. However, we need to be the ones to give her it. So, shall we?”

The Seer smiled at those words while the Kidraan Archon cast a glance at Rhodes, his eyes asking if she was finished. At her nod, he rose. “All those in favour, raise your dominant hand.”

The chorus of clothes moving drew Rhodes’ gaze to the crowd, though a part of her already knew the outcome. All fifteen assemblies—the Artificers, those in the Twenty, SI Agents, highly-ranked mages—all rose their hands up in support of her choice.

“It is settled. Carielle Hayes has been chosen to receive an Aether Artifact. Captain Rhodes, your secondary choice, if you will.”

Rhodes’ lips formed a hard line. Here comes the hard part. She rehearsed how she would continue internally, opening up her next candidate’s stats. “My second choice is Valory Efron.”

There was a shift in the atmosphere, a shift of silence.

Hundreds of thousands participated in the trials and the committee, responsible to find 2500 worthy wielders of the Aether Artifacts, picked candidates of talent never seen before. It was safe to say that prodigies in the top percentile were hardly missed, meaning the names called were those of some notability.

The fact of the matter was, though, that Valory was an unseen talent in the literal sense.

Rhodes figured it was high time the fact changed.

She strayed away from honing in on Valory’s kinesthetic prowess, not after the show Carielle unknowingly put on. Consequently, her weapon-handling wouldn’t draw the right eyes needed to produce the required votes in the face of the odds stacked against her.

Her perception would.

Runes bloomed across the dais and the Captain waved a hand, bringing forth screens of statistics.

“I’ll brush past the stats, even though Valory scored an average of 100% across each segment of the Tripartite Trial.” Rhodes tapped on her device to shrink the floating images, bringing up Valory’s personal set of videos. “Miss Efron’s specialty requires a keen eye to notice.”

Blurred footage of Valory pausing among occupied participants alongside a teammate rolled, showing the exact moment she sensed the start of the mind loop. She pointed, chatted, and was transferred to the beginning once more. The next time she made it to the end, she pulled out the cog, free of the mind trip.

Ordinarily, a mage on Collins' level wouldn’t dare leave so much as a feather out of place; however it was set there on purpose to answer a sole question.

Who could notice the cog and who could break out?

“Miss Efron is one of the few thousands able to pick up the cog Major Collins left in the mind trap,” Rhodes said, “and one of the hundred able to shatter her mind’s ensnares.”

Rhodes displayed other cases of Valory’s heightened senses in hopes it would speak for itself, including various cases of her alerting her team of incoming spells.

“I fail to recognize what you’re getting at here, Captain,” an Archon muttered, gaze wandering past the screens of Valory’s time in the trials. “I admit, her awareness will suit her well in future endeavours as a mage. Unfortunately, it’s not enough to commit an Aether Artifact into her hands.”

“If you’re focusing on the fact she seems deft at detecting falsehoods, it’s redundant and predictable,” one of the Special Intelligence agents mentioned. “It says right on her record that she’s a pickpocket. Takes a trickster to know a trickster.”

“Not to mention,” Mister Tamaan drawled, a sly smile playing on his lips, “she has a paltry ASC of eleven aether strands.”

No whispers rose at the claim, not even a shift in movement. Many settled for raising an eyebrow, checking their devices for the fact. Damn, Rhodes thought. “I was getting to that.”

“She’s barely an unbound,” someone muttered. “If I can even call her that.”

“A true shame. I was starting to like her.”

“Guess that ends it.”

“She was a pickpocket and that’s not the reason Miss Efron has a knack for seeing the things hidden,” Rhodes said, slashing through the murmurs. “Miss Efron’s a high silver.”

The brute force of her statement was enough to shock the committee into a din of silence.

“A tactic based on desperation,” a Zingese Archon interjected, a Chair with a distaste for all things worth less than gold. Dangerously quiet on trials that had no association with highborn, it seemed she could no longer keep silent.

“The testing for one’s PAST is relatively subjective to the tester. Even if we gave Miss Rox the benefit of the doubt and believed she was a low silver at most, her ASC gives her little margin to catch the competition. Carielle Hayes, for example, would leave her in the dust.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch.” Archon Jin’s eyes narrowed at the Captain’s disagreement. Rhodes found she hardly cared. “All PAST testers are trained to ensure that the result which arises, if not correct, comes within a reasonable range.”

“Then how come—”

“Then how come it wasn’t revealed before?” Rhodes interrupted and the Archon’s expression darkened, her lips sharper than a blade.

Tension thickened to the viscosity of tar and the Assembly of the Military held their breath in distress at their brash soldier. That was an Archon she was speaking to.

“I bet that as soon as they saw she had eleven aether strands, they didn’t bother with testing her PAST. It does not change the fact that we now know she is a silver, a high one at that,” Rhodes said.

“If I may speak," someone croaked. Rhodes could practically hear the bones creaking as an Artificer took his time to stand, bone-white hair tied into a polite tail behind. “I concur with Archon Jin. She’s likely not a high silver.”

Lines marred Rhodes’ brow.

“In fact, Miss Efron may very well be a low gold,” he finished.

Gazes that were glued onto the event happening between Rhodes and Archon Jin streamed toward the old man, bold words earning undivided attention.

“Explain yourself, Winsford,” Archon Jin commanded a second sooner than Rhodes would've.

“If we recall, Miss Efron was lured away by a pond.” He tapped at a device in his hands and a notification appeared on Rhodes’ tablet, asking for access permission. She allowed it and the floating windows switched to the third day of the trials, following Valory as she stumbled through a stone forest, led by mind magic.

“That pond wasn't your regular body of water,” Winsford went on to say. “In actuality, it was a spirit. Partially water-based, partially mind-based—and no, I wouldn't suggest you turn it into a familiar."

His ending sentence nabbed the greed gleaming in the eyes of the audience. Spirits were items of desire, able to be bound as a mage as mobile partners, boosting one’s strength.

Her own familiar nestled at its boundaries, its wispy form solidifying as it awoke. Rest Dynami, she told it, asking, "Partially illusion-based?"

"Yes. That was what drew Miss Efron and those two aether creatures to its grasp—its illusion. For her to be able to be held by it requires good senses."

"I thought that the lower one's senses are, the more privy they are to illusions and mind traps," Rhodes asked, holding an inkling she’d like where it was going.

Winsford's brown eyes sparkled at her question, linked by unsaid understanding. "That is undoubtedly true solely in higher ranks. Lower tiers of aether creatures cast a rough caricature of an illusion that it could hardly be called one. For one to perceive such a spell, they'd have to have a high level of sensitivity, flipping the usual rule on its head."

"And there you have it.” The Captain gestured to the finely dressed audience of Committee’s Say. “With her PAST being as high as it is, Miss Efron will have no trouble at all catching up.”

"I believe Winsford's statements to be clouded, no doubt coming from an enchanter looking for someone to apprentice." Mr. Tamaan looked at the older man.

Winsford chuckled. "In all honesty, you're not wrong. All the Artificers here are rooting for her, no matter the order."

A hint of mirth flowed through the Assembly of Artificers. "Winsford you better not snatch her up before us metalsmiths!"

"She'd make a better alchemist!"

Winsford shrugged. "No promises."

"If we may, let's get back on topic," Archon Lenson requested through smiling lips.

"Yes, I suggest our assembly of adventurers speak up on the topic," Mr. Tamaan said. "Perhaps you have a different take on her third trial."

“We share the same views on Miss Efron’s trial as Captain Rhodes.” Magister Leon, better known as the Lion of Reynor Royals, spoke out. His mane of hair rivaled the flares of the sun, hazel eyes a window to his confidence in his magic. No one dared to revoke his statement. He gave a slight bob of the head to the Metal Incarnate, who nodded back.

Rhodes hid a grin.

“But you said—!” Mr. Tamaan tried to speak.

“Stop it.” Archon Quiet rose to his feet. “Arguing like children is beneath us. Let our votes talk, not our mouths. All those in favour, raise your dominant hand.”

Rhodes exhaled through her nose. This is it.

It was far from the decisive decision made at Carielle’s hearing, those in the aristocratic assemblies glancing at Archon Jin, a steady leader of one of the Pivotal Clans.

So much for no bias.

All that mattered, though, was that it was the same result. A wave that started in the Artificer assembly, flowing through the adventurers and her fellow military officers.

“It is settled.” The central Archon gestured at the scribe to transcript his next words. “Although questionable, Valory Efron has been chosen to receive an Aether Artifact.”