Puddles began to freeze over near the curbside, refracting the dim moonlight able to seam through the trellis woven above Rubble Arena’s entrance. Ensnared by ivy vines, the blossoms wrapped around the wooden beams bloomed and stretched out as they awoke in the evening breeze.

The arcane petals bathed Val in soft light, sitting on one of the benches lining the lane to the entrance. Caro sat on the bench opposite her, gaze on the line of colour following the last coach buses emptying the stadium’s forecourt, the red of the backlights dimming as they disappeared down the next curve.

She crossed her arms as a sharp exhale left her in a rush, a mist of frozen moisture fogging her face. “Are you absolutely sure a conductor said to wait for Corporal Wren?”

Here we go again. Val refrained from smiling. “Yep.”

“To remain outside as a corporal three hours away by the fastest train is to commute to where we are, to finish our awakening.”

“Yep.”

“Despite how ridiculous this all sounds.”

“Yup.”

“Even when any other person could just lead us to one of those manifestation orbs.”

“For the last time Caro, yes,” Val answered, though it was too late for that to happen anyways. While light spilled out of the arena’s closed doors, everyone inside already vacated the premises. Overseers, conductors, participants—they all readied themself as soon as the closing ceremony ended, more interested in going out after ten days spent within the trials, than in.

Caro sucked her teeth. “I’d rather listen to Miss Peppers rant on end than wait with literally nothing to do.”

“Well then…” Val squinted at two streamlined anti-grav cars hovering into the arena’s pavement square, parking right in front of the entrance both she and Caro huddled in. “You’re in luck.”

The sleek doors swirled open and Corporal Wren stepped out, grinning.

It had been a long week, but Val was certain the lady wasn’t the type to smile, not to talk of showcasing her bright teeth. She flourished a hand towards both dark-coloured vehicles, gesturing for them to enter each on their lonesome. “After you, ladies.”

Caro stifled a squeal and power-walked over, the joy of riding the modern creation practically exuding from her.

Following her lead, Val crouched into the back of the car. She couldn’t help the whistle of awe that escaped her. Silky seats, air conditioning, generous amounts of space—these were regular aspects of a car, even if it was a tad bit luxurious.

Nothing compared to the view.

When she glanced out the window, she was met with an idyllic landscape, like something out of a movie. From the image alone, it seemed like they were cruising on the Alfine mountains, clouds sweeping by them as lands of greens extended beyond the horizon.

“—to go Miss Efron? Miss Efron, are we good to go?”

“Oh, y-yeah.” Val gave an awkward thumbs-up. “All good.”

“Great!” Corporal Wren ignited the car with a touch in the middle of the dashboard and Val’s stomach lurched as the car rose. A holographic image of a 3D map spun around and gave the panes a cyan tilt, stilling at the corporal’s touch.

As cool as the windows were, the sensation of being airborne combined with the illusion of flying across the sky was too much for Val. I think I’m gonna throw up.

Rushing to roll it down, Val discovered she couldn’t. It was locked.

“Corporal,” she barely got out. “Corporal Wren, could you roll down the windows, please.”

“I’m ‘fraid I can’t.”

What? Val wanted to say, but her throat didn’t cooperate. Her body slouched to the left, towards the ever-shifting windows as sudden tiredness overwhelmed her. Eyelids falling against her will, the last thing she witnessed was Corporal Wren’s face melting off to reveal another.

She smiled as she caught Val’s gaze through the front mirrors. Her distorted voice reached Val just before she fell into the abyss that was unconsciousness.

“Sleep tight.”

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

Disinfectant.

The antiseptic smell was a friend of Val’s, something she could pick up in milliseconds. Not due to her visits to Mom—no, Restore Health spent far too much to ensure no such inconvenience befell its patrons. It was more so because of the trips to the school nurse for the unkind gestures classmates gave her throughout the years, for one reason or the other.

Perhaps that was why the sharp scent was the first thing she could perceive as she came to, the sterile, windowless room second as the bleary haze encasing her gaze wore off.

Groaning as every muscle within her awoke, she pushed off the third thing she became aware of—a dentist-like chair in the rare colour of grey.

Then, it hit her. I need to escape. Sitting up straight, she found her time was already up, the din footfalls seeping through the room’s boundaries.

With a whoosh one of the glossy walls slid open and a pair walked in. The first rolled in a cart with a metallic briefcase on top and the other was a person she recognized.

Fiona Rhodes ambled in, a tablet in hand, dressed in her formal uniform. Stars and medals hung on her dark coat, accented by red at the shoulders and a line of white on her trousers. She smiled. “Been a while since the New Year's dinner, but I don’t believe I introduced myself officially. I’m Captain Rhodes, but you can call me Fiona.

“This is Master Winsford, a deft hand in enchanting,” she introduced the aged man standing beside her. He was an Auricean, his tidied hair bone-white as time took its toll. While he held a feeble frame—bones sticking out through his collared shirt, sweater, and slacks combo—his stature was ramrod-straight in strength.

Val blinked at the oddness that was this meeting. “And I’m Valory?”

His brow furrowed, worried at her tone. “Do you still feel delirious?”

“No, just very, very confused right now.”

“Understandable.” Captain Rhodes cleared her throat. “What needs to be cleared before we can proceed?”

“I honestly couldn’t tell you,” Val admitted. “The mind trap of the second trial, the pond in Thunderstone, the way I arrived here—my mind and body have been tweaked so many times I find it hard to believe this right now isn’t some elaborate, fake fever dream of my own making.”

Almost surprised at her answer, Fiona gave her an appraising look. “Sorry about this in advance.”

The world around mattered little as the Captain glanced at her, the purity in her eyes encasing Val.

It felt like the Captain saw through her, each plane of her body as visible as a clear sky, and within seconds, Val believed she was back inside Caro’s room, surveyed by the unknown woman who slipped past important information.

Captain Rhodes snapped and Val flinched. “Still think this is a hoax?”

“No.” She gave her shoulders a jolt. “No, you’re definitely her. Captain Rhodes, I mean.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Fiona. You can call me Fiona,” she replied and Val smiled. "As invasive as those measures were, it was done with the right intentions. You didn't see anything you weren't supposed to on the ride here. It assures us that if there's been a breach on our data or a leak of any kind—”

"Then I'm not the tap," Val inferred. " I get it. Kind of."

“Your case is exceedingly rare, Miss Efron.” Master Winsford spoke, looking as if he was holding back a sigh or two. “Exceedingly. I know that does little to calm you and little to assure you, rightfully so.”

Fiona patted her shoulder. ”Just realize that your ability to recognize that anything—including your perceptions of reality—can be altered is why you’re here right now. At the end of the day, that is the vast majority of magic.”

Master Winsford tapped the briefcase. “This right here is your means of awakening and your Aether Artifact, should you accept our terms.”

Val’s eyes flickered to Fiona’s, who gave her a reassuring smile. “If you decline, you still become a mage, so don’t worry.”

“I don’t know…” she clenched her fists. She knew what they were offering was, evidently by Caro’s research, an extraordinary boon. A device that could quite possibly mitigate the disparity between her ASC and her PAST.

Yet there were hundreds of thousands of better candidates. She could name thirty she met in the past ten days alone, twice her amount in talent.

With that realization, she shook her head and rose. “Give it to someone else, someone who deserves it.”

Fiona’s eyes narrowed. “You aren’t a charity case. Those who allowed you this opportunity are not people who’d entertain such a notion.”

“I—.”

“I don’t know what you went through being a borderline-typic, unaccepted by all sides,” she said. “All I know is that doubt you hold will swallow you whole if you don’t keep it in check.”

“Doubt is the opposite of conviction,” Winsford added, “and conviction conceives willpower. We aren’t coercing you, we merely want you to rethink and ensure your choice isn’t one followed by regret.”

Val didn’t want to make the decision—couldn’t make the decision.

It was always a problem of hers. When even an inch of doubt poisoned the apple of hope, profit, or prosperity, she could never take a bite of it.

If she didn’t, the shadow of failure couldn’t follow her. After all, if you dodge all the things you might fail to keep your success rate at one hundred, who could say you weren’t triumphant?

You won’t progress that way, Valpal.

Her father’s words came to the forefront of her mind.

You can’t only practice the songs you learned and hope to improve. Growth lies in overcoming both the known and the unknown.

He would always utter those words during their guitar sessions, his daughter busy chasing the feeling of plucking the strings and hearing them resound just as she intended. The sound was distinct, one she cherished instead of improving, growing.

Val was at a junction in her life where her cause for decision would change where she would tread from now on, a choice that might distinguish a life of an outstanding mage and one to be forgotten in a year.

She thought about how Caro would grab the opportunity in a second, always starving for chances to leap ahead. She ruminated about how Dad would work endlessly to advance his adventurer rank in hopes a higher standing would earn more for Mom. She reflected on how Kenneth never hesitated at a chance to learn more.

I’m weak, Val realized, and I can’t be weak if I want to save Mom.

She needed to become better, refine what she lacked in and upgrade where she was strong.

Obtaining an Aether Artifact, she figured, would be her first step. I mean, it seems solid enough to me.

Val sat back down. “I want it.”

“Good.” Fiona bobbed her head. “I take it you know what an artifact is?”

Val simply nodded.

“Well an Aether Artifact is no different, except for a few qualities,” Master Winsford led. “The first is that it takes form in a manner most aligned with you, as a person and a mage. We seldom have any idea what shape it will be when bound to you, though cases of it being unusable have been lowered greatly.”

“The next thing you need to know is that it takes time to tame and that it grows in tandem with you as a wielder, which brings me to one of your responsibilities,” Fiona cut in. “You are implored to enroll in a government-sanctioned institute that will help you learn the ins and outs of the device.”

There it was, Caro’s earlier estimate was right on the money.

“All functions, save for the auxiliary ones, will be banned until then, unless a certified instructor decides to take you on earlier,” Master Winsford supplied. “The deadline for submission is the end of Tricember and the refusal of doing so is the immediate confiscation of your device."

“So if you didn’t plan on post-secondary,” Fiona leaned forward, “plan for it now.”

“Is that it?”

“Almost.” Fiona handed her the tablet, line after line of dryly worded text filling the screen. Val scrolled through the rules and restrictions slowly, making sure she grasped all of them.

The major rule to understand was that she, among the others, was called upon if war broke out, requiring their immediate conscription. It was a little dubious, even if the event of war in massive proportions was on the rare side.

At the bottom was a blank where she signed the form. What could go wrong?

“As of Janos 10th, 2001, 11:49 p.m.,” Fiona announced, “you are now a Crown."

Val let the name settle, a slight smile splitting her lips. “I like the sound of that.”

“As do I,” said Master Winsford, asking her to lift her sleeve as he unfastened the briefcase. Inside the protective foam laid the perfect orb, untouched and unblemished. He whisked a tong-like tool out of his pockets and picked it up gingerly, pausing as he cast a look at her. “Just to be safe, you know what to do when awakening?”

“Stay still, let your soul stake do the job, etcetera etcetera.” Val waved a hand. “It’s been drilled in.”

“Great.” Winsford smiled, glancing at Fiona before recreating eye contact with her. “On three. One, two—!”

He jabbed the piece of metal into her wrist and it absorbed into her skin.

That old heaven-forsaken man—

Without delay, she was thrust into the immaterial world.

Val floated downwards as the boundaries of physicality faded, omnipresent darkness pervading as far as she could see.

Arms flailing helplessly, she froze and took in her new constitution. Cream-white specks floated out of her translucent form, filling the light-sucking void.

Urging her soul stake to twirl around on the spot, Val found it hard not to feel insignificant in the vast space she descended into. Stay still, she reminded herself, keeping a vigilant eye on the surroundings.

A low rumbling reached her ears, or rather the alternative hearing faculty within her soul stake. She swirled, gaze turning to each direction—up, left, right.

When she bowed her head to survey what was below, visceral fear permeated her gut.

Ardent radiance rose in an ascent so fast, it seemed as if it was devouring the surrounding void in earnest. Before long she beheld a gate of immeasurable proportions hovering on the same horizontal plane as her.

Val was no artist, yet the polarity between the surrounding white backdrop compared to the obsidian rectangular-like frame of the arcane structure was entrancing, captivating.

A tiny crack split the metallic sheen covering the gate’s opening and a lapis-blue string stretched out of her sternum, latching onto the gate. Val grinned internally. It’s happening.

It yawned wide and she intrinsically knew exactly which Elemental Gate she was bound to.

The Elemental Gate of Metal.

A multitude of metals—liquid, solid, or in forms she just could not recognize—swirled inside the shining gate, in golden-yellows and vivid-greens. Who knew ores could be so fascinating?

“I’m a metal mage,” Val murmured, a little hard to swallow. Any other element would’ve made it easier to appraise her next directions, but life liked to give her lemons instead of straight-up lemonade. Nothing I can’t handle… I think.

Ready for her awakening to end there and eager to get straight to spellcasting, she pondered curiously why she wasn’t coming to.

Floating towards the gate and swaying her head to the side, she caught the sight of a flood? It seemed like a wave of an abounding vacuum swallowing the surrounding light in its approach, feeding off it while remaining starkly dark. The hell?

It stirred into an egg-shaped portal, ill-defined outlines of primordial beings frozen within their boundaries. Though there seemed to be no space for eye sockets in bodies composed of glowing lines, she sensed their appraising gaze on her. Okay, this is getting weird.

As if trying to spur her train of thought, fingerstyle music flowed from the south, turning Val’s soul stake around in full.

An austere staircase led upwards, ivory steps infinitely treading to the boundlessness above. Her attention wavered between the mysterious, warbling gate, the simple flight towards unknown things and the rigid and varied Metal Gate.

Boom!

Walls of glowing script crashed into the space, slamming against the consuming portal and stone staircase. Val felt her connection… dim? That’s funny. She had no guess what they were, and yet they appeared in her realm, where things remained harmonious to her soul.

These blue, runic words were the opposite, a glaring piece unwanted, discordant. At its core, the growing boundaries of inscriptions felt more like an invasion.

She hissed as the cable between the Metal Gate and her soul stake tightened, creaking as if someone was tugging on it. The shaking glow of the luminescent string was the last sight she saw in the immaterial realm.

And like that, Val woke up in cold sweat, back inside the dentist chair as an ordinary and humble metal elementalist.