Val lugged the last of her stuff out of the rickety five-seater. Closing the trunk, she gave it a final healthy pat, a ritual they did in hopes it wouldn’t pop back out while on the road. “Thanks for the ride, Mister Hayes.”

A bear of a man, Mister Hayes loomed over the entirety of Val’s family, a smile surely hidden behind a salt-and-pepper beard. He rustled her hair. “It was nothing.”

I’m gonna miss him, she realized. Him, the Hayes family, Williams, Miss Peppers—it pained her that most of them, her rock and foundation, would remain in the Second Halo as she reached for greater heights.

A price to pay, Val thought, taking a deep breath and hardening her resolve. Hoping her outward actions affected her inward feelings, she forcefully turned her sights away from her home-halo and fixed her gaze on the Inner Wall.

According to the brisk research allowed outside the Laws, Life’s Hymn might exist on the other side. Almost certainly. She’d finally made it to the starting line—she could acquire it, as a mage. Though its whereabouts remained unknown, she wouldn’t be denied of it any longer thanks to her newfound status. Only up from here on out, hopefully.

A car parked behind, and the rest of Mister Hayes’ family spilled out. Helping the youngest of the household unpack her life’s worth of items out of the vehicle, the Hayes moved in silence. There was a solemnity about it—until Caro cracked a joke. Laughter soon filled the idle transfer station.

Val took the time to bring her siblings a small distance away from Caro’s farewell, kneeling so she’d be on equal eye level. She traced their wide golden gazes, Andy’s a little drowsy at the six-hour drive and Kenneth pointed up at dawn breaking out across the sky, bored.

After weighing the benefits and drawbacks of the offer for the past week, the pair decided to accept it and use it to the fullest. Even with the grins that’d break out at the slightest eye contact between the girls, the fate of her brothers weighed heavily on the latter side of the scale. What if they say no?

She took a deep breath and began.

“Once we reach Atera, both me and Caro are going to be busy training to be the best mages we can possibly be. You two will always be my priority. Always. But, no matter how hard I may try, there’ll be times I can’t be with you. Caro’s parents offered a place for each of you in their home and they’d be there 24/7. I’ll understand if you decide to stay. I’ll be your older sister no matter what and I’ll—” Val stopped talking, realizing she was rambling.

The next words sat in her throat for a decade-long minute. “Do you still want to come?

Andy blinked, barely comprehending the paragraph she barfed up. He waddled forward and locked her in a neck-squeezing hug. “Where Vallie go, I go. Right?”

“Right,” she squished him between her arms and buried her chin in his shoulder. “Right.”

“I guess it’s the same for me.” Kenneth shrugged, gaze wandering as if he was reciting the anthem for the umpteenth time. “Who’s gonna take care of Andy when you can’t? Plus, I’d get a better education in the First Halo.”

She ruffled the twelve-year-old’s hair, unrelentingly messy. “Look who’s being a big bro.”

Kenneth rolled his eyes—though the happy quirks of his ears gave insight into his true feelings—and nodded his head behind her. “Seems like they're finished.”

Caro beamed their way, rolling suitcases into the Wall Transfer Station. “Boys, let’s roll!”

“Coming,” Kenneth sauntered past Val, who released Andy out of her tight grasp to hobble after the two. Good luck, her friend mouthed to her, shooting a glance at her parents.

A nervous smile split Val’s lips. The group disappeared into the transfer station and she turned to the Hayes family. Dark-brown hair flowed past her shoulders as she lowered herself into a ninety-degree bow, remaining in her position until she felt at least half of her gratitude could be passed on.

“Oh cut that out, dear.” Mister Hayes pulled her shoulders up, blue eyes warm. “I’d rather have a hug if anything.”

“I know you would, but I wanted to express how thankful I am. Truly.”

Caro’s mom patted her back. “Any child of Taylia’s is a child of mine.”

Val’s gaze found the concrete driveway, overwhelmed. “Mrs. Hayes, I…”

“Mrs. Hayes?” The soft lines stretching from Mrs. Hayes’ wide, kind smile grew deeper as reprimand edged into her expression. Each pat on Val’s back soon turned into one twice the force of the preceding action. “Caro’s rubbing off on you too much! All this talk, but you don’t listen! I’ve been telling you to call me Aunt Hayes!”

“I didn’t mean to, it’s a force of habit.”

“Is it a habit to not eat too? Look at you—so skinny! I’ll make sure to send lots of food!”

“It’s okay Mrs. Hayes, really.”

“Hmm?”

“I-I meant Aunt Hayes.”

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

A soft hum turned Val away from the bright exit. A levitating board fluttered down the narrow halls, slowing to a stop before her. She pressed a palm beneath it, as instructed by the attendants, and it chimed. “Soul signature confirmed. Retrieve luggage.”

She hefted it off the device and it did a quirky loop, as if thankful to be free of the burden, and disappeared into the inner workings of the transfer station.

“Can’t expect anything less of the First Halo,” she muttered, rolling her bags outside. The difference in smooth tiles to rough cobblestone made her suitcases screech in discomfort. Gaze absorbed in the sight that welcomed her, she took no notice of the noise and sucked in a sharp breath. “By the saints…”

Two pairs of steel hollow ovals hovered right outside the entrance. The plane in between the structures held rotating, translucent screens, busy replaying the highlight reels from Atera’s famous duelist rings. Beyond that, a suburb of picturesque homes edged into the broad lane stretching out of the Wall Transfer Station, birds chirping in the trees planted in mowed lawns.

Further behind, as if a backdrop of a delicate artist, a sprawling metropolis bore skyscrapers hundreds of floors high, rendered on a canvas of the early faint reds and pinks of sunrise. A suspended lattice of the all-too-known Grav-lines swirled amid the titan-like buildings, defying physics and using gravity magic she had no desire to decipher.

“Val.” Caro shepparded the boys over at her exit. “We have a problem.”

She raised a brow. Problem?

“There’s a meeting for the new Age of Atera recruits,” Caro explained.

“What—when?”

“Today.”

Val glanced at their hands, each occupied by luggage, not too excited for the following trip. “Where's the nearest Grav-line station?”

…

Tingles travelled up Val’s spine as the ground beneath her rumbled, the Grav-line screeching as it navigated the miscellany of guide beams twisting this way or that. She glanced at the map above to confirm their route, the train’s course aglow with Guildhall Station blinking, indicating the next stop.

Val’s idle hand drummed to an upbeat tune and her green eyes flitted about. People filled every crook of the cart and yet her mind remained free of the nauseating sensations dogging her every step.

For a city jam-packed with people from various walks of life, she guessed there were means to minimize aether enmation for the sake of the typical passengers. Thank the saints for that.

Gaze travelling towards her 5’11 friend, her lips curled upwards and she stifled a laugh. “You have that thing in a death grip.”

Caro forwent the clutches hanging above and grasped onto the rail itself using both hands, knuckles bone-white. The Grav-line swerved in the air, curling around a building to switch directions, and she turned green. “I never thought there’d be a ride worse than a hovercar. At this rate, I think I might throw up.”

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

“Please don’t.” Kenneth inched backwards as far as he could within his seat, pulling up his jacket to cover his face. “Hard to aim away from us within a moving train that’s in the air for that matter.”

“Why don't you let me sit then, you little rascal.”

“I'm tired.”

"And I'm not?"

"You're young and able."

"Again, and you're not?"

“Ugh, I see why you’re friends with Val now. You’re both annoying.”

“Kenneth Raven Efron, if you don’t—”

“Next stop is Guildhall, Guildhall Station. Doors will open on the left.”

The flying train’s notification thankfully put the argument at rest. Buzzing blue force fields of energy summoned themself and wrapped the forty-cart vehicle, slowly sliding itself off the steel rods it rode on. Hovering in the air for a moment, the world outside blurred in its descent.

She picked up Andy, who was fast asleep, and kept a hand on her luggage as the Grav-line reached the ground, commuters filing out in a rush. They were streamed along by the flux of people and it took a couple of seconds to reorient themselves to follow the directions on Caro’s phone.

Guildhall Avenue was a road for people only, adventurers and tourists taking up the lanes for themselves. Its namesake was as accurate as it got, bordered by adventurer guilds both monumental and small-time down its entire length. Ignoring the tantalizing scent of grilled meat calling to her stomach, Val willed herself to keep walking

Kenneth yawned as the street branched out, the last of the guilds dwindling to reveal the end of the road. “Sis, you sure you aren’t lost?”

“It says we should be right here after we turn left.” Val looked up from the map displayed on Caro’s phone, bewildered by the apparent lack of—well—anything.

Expecting something half as extravagant as the guildhalls behind, the sight of a two-story, brick-and-plaster building was the most lackluster, almost upsetting thing to witness. Looking for something to prove the online map was outdated, she was disappointed to discover the Hall of Eons sign hanging from the roof.

“Let’s head in.” She cracked the door open and daylight snuck by in a slash against the dim insides. “Okay… I’m having second thoughts.”

“Still scared of the dark?” Kenneth’s remark irked her in a way only siblings could.

The jab was all the motivation she needed to take a step indoors and when she turned around to smirk his way, she discovered he wasn’t there anymore.

Nothing was.

Tightening her grip on her suitcase and glancing behind her shoulders, she was hit by a sight divergent from the previous dark surroundings.

She blinked at the floor, a literal sky rolled out as a carpet. Clouds swished past, unbothered by the bizarre happenings. The scene had such a pull on her that she moved forward unbidden and on the next step, people of all kinds appeared. Hundreds of them waited in the lobby, chattering as they stood in line to be admitted inside the guild.

A freaking sheen? Unable to hold back her curiosity, she shifted forward and backwards, awed each time. A layer-like facade played at her senses, obscuring the foyer until she stepped past a certain point.

“They glamoured the whole building.” Caro laughed as she stepped into line with Val alongside Kenneth, shaking her head. “That’s actually wicked.”

“Many prefer the word wise, instead of wicked, though I wouldn’t say the adjective is completely inaccurate.”

Val swiveled on her feet, surprised to recognize the man beside her, clad in a collared-shirt, sweater and slacks. “Master Winsford. Great to see you.”

“Valory, Miss Hayes, boys—” he cast a glance at Val’s brothers “—I’m glad you could make it, luggage and all. Follow me, I’ll lead you inside.”

Looks followed their every move on the trip to the clerical desks. Whether it was due to Caro’s ASC or the status of a Master enchanter, she couldn’t tell. Either way, she was happy to trail Master Winsford’s back past the string of granite tables, crystalline gate in sight.

Members vanished as they tread past the threshold, presumably entering another sheen. Master Winsford offered a comforting smile before he, too, disappeared.

Val slid through after him, luggage and brothers in hand, eager to leave the livid stares burning her back. Caro, never one to miss an opportunity to one-up somebody, winked at the growing crowd and strolled behind.

Trudging past the crystalline gates, she observed her surroundings open-mouthed, starstruck.

Particles of warm light fluttered about in a lazy flurry, swirling around the gigantic tree stationed at the center. A deep maroon settled into the broad trunk, wide enough for a village to wrap their arms around, its upper crown settling inside the upper levels.

Though it seemed out of place within the high-tech facility—plated floors, glass walls, indoor balconies accompanying the countless floors—ironically, the mountain-sized plant fell into a symbiotic relationship with the inner workings of the building.

“The Bane of Withering created that before he left,” Winsford informed them. “Definitely a sight to see.”

Val nodded numbly. “That’s for sure.”

“Be sure to meet me at the scribal branch. Tomorrow, that is,” he said. “I know you’re busy with the recruit seminar.”

“Saints,” Val whipped out her phone, wincing at the time displayed on the lock screen. “Seems better we don’t go.”

“Here.” Winsford scribbled on a notepad and tore a page out. “He’ll excuse you if you have this. I’ll take your siblings and your luggage, you get to that meeting.”

Caro slapped his shoulder and broke into a jog, throwing a “Thanks, old man!” over her shoulder.

Master Winsford’s expression glitched, face muscles frozen until a soft chuckle left his lips. “You’d think the earth in magma would calm her fiery inclination.”

Val gave an awkward laugh. “Guess not.”

…

“…we hold this orientation to assure you that provision for everything you need to know and have before stepping foot in a rift will be given. You will…”

Val startled as the door slid open automatically, hundreds of focused recruits shifting their attention to the entrants.

The amphitheatre went quiet and an adventurer behind a podium turned to face the two trainees walking in. Shaking his head, he didn’t spare them a second glance. “You’re late.”

“We have a note from Master Winsford.” Val dangled the piece of paper. “Apologies, Mister…”

“Magus Kane,” the Kidraan filled in. “You both are midborn, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

He pointed a pen at the hill of horizontal seats. “Head to the middle.”

The pair climbed up the steps, wading through a wave of funk hoarding at the lower levels and sitting at the center, aristocratic perfume wafting over them from the top. He ordered them from lowborn to highborn, she realized. Living in the Second Halo, the disparity between halos never felt apparent until now.

It felt wrong and she didn’t know why. She shooed the thought, zeroing in on the speaker positioned up front.

“We ask one thing of you: to uphold the dignity of Age of Atera at every point in time. Doing so takes more than merely hunting.”

Abandoning his podium, he stepped off the stage and paced across the floor. “Learn the differences in rift rings. Know why rifts form. Most importantly, be intimately familiar with the rift rule.”

“Rift rule?” someone echoed, lowborn. The lack of a coat during winter always gave it away.

“Rule of Progression idiot,” a trainee answered up top. “It’s the reason why aether creatures are easier to kill the farther you are from the rift core. Aether density partiality and all that.”

“I don’t need help in doing my job,” Magus Kane told the highborn recruit.

“But look at him,” the trainee continued. “So quaint and so dumb. Bet he didn’t understand a single word I said.”

“What a dickwad,” Caro muttered.

The crowd in his vicinity laughed, slapping the tables and patting the guy in encouragement. Heads began to turn towards the commotion and they played it up at the attention, cracking jokes and mocking those in the front—

The weight of the world pressed onto Val’s chest. She wheezed what little air her lungs could take, sporadic dark spots invading her vision.

Magus Kane’s iron gaze gored a hole through the trainee as he unleashed his aura. The mass of his strength settled upon the entire class, stilling movement.

“I said I don’t need help in doing my job.” The Magus flicked a finger at the door. “Exit. Now.”

The boy didn’t argue and scurried out of the room, avoiding eye contact the whole way through. He left an unpleasant silence in his wake.

“I separated you all not to aid anyone’s ego. You all carry far too much of it and for little reason.” Magus Kane withheld his aura and Val inhaled sharply, able to suspire.

“We must accept our differences and work to enhance what we have. Lowborn myself, I know the knowledge deficit of the region firsthand and you lot will focus on that. You lot at the top you may hold more knowledge, but you haven’t learned how to survive.” He pointed to the bottom rows. “They have.”

He paused and scanned the crowd as he waited for a recruit to refute him.

No one dared.

“Now,” he continued, “you all require a diving license before entering a rift. Luckily for you, we’re one of the fifty guilds omitted from the exams. You solely have to wait in line for the documentation.”

A girl meekly raised her hand.

Kane nodded at her. “Yes?”

“Can I ask why we’re omitted?”

“Why of course.” He stood straighter, a hint of pride edging into his rigid countenance. “We will train and test you ourselves—and yes, it is obligatory.”

He added the second part at the wave of hands that shot to the roof at his previous words, recruits groaning and slouching in their seats.

“Is it…” the girl went on. “Hard?”

“That I don't know yet,” Magus Kane answered, “Depends on your instructor for tomorrow. Allow me to check.”

“Tomorrow?” Caro repeated. "That quick?"

Rustling through his papers, he read through the lines and paused.

“Oh, saints.” Amusement danced in his eyes as he glanced back up at his trainees. “You all are in for a month of hell.”