Reynor City more than earned its right as the capital of Ciazel. History soaked the very cobblestone roads woven on the ground—it seeped from the fire trees brightening the sidewalk with their hyper-red leaves, and settled within the looming stout buildings, all round edges and steep, gabled roofs. The past seemed a living, breathing thing here.

Should Val pause to truly take in King’s Street, she could visualize it for what it was centuries before. A town—without the view of the skyscrapers as a backdrop, bereft of the constant hum from the air ferries whisking pedestrians downtown—soon to become a country.

That said, what it stood as currently was nothing short of breathtaking. She brushed a hand across the corner store to her left, and the stone-hewn walls scraped against the pads of her fingers. Based on the exterior alone, the local business looked like something constructed many decades before Val’s time. She peeked into the open window and shook her head, unsurprised to be proven wrong.

Floating orbs of light abated the darkness, permitting flashes of people eating dainty meals in isolated booths. Val blinked at the fuzzy, ghost-like beings snuggled against the customers. Made of faint colours of all kinds, the feline creatures curled at the patrons’ feet or balanced on their shoulders. A closer look as she walked by, and she discerned the faint aura of illusion magic wafting from the apparitions. IBR-based cats, designed akin to translucent spirits, served as a secondary source of light and comfort.

That doesn’t seem hardly enough though… Val pondered, keeping one eye inside as she passed. Even with their lamp-like aura nothing else lit the restaurant save for the cats and the orbs. As if in agreement with her, someone swiped up on the glass table between him and his companion, and the nearby spheres brightened in tandem. Val reigned in an impressed whistle. Smart tech. Illusion-based reality. Enchanted light fixtures. This small shop alone hoarded advancements that put most operations in the Second Halo to shame.

Val made note of the store’s name—Solace of the Spirit, apparently—before it finally passed her in full, lost in her awe once more. Again and again, she experienced whiplash as she traveled to and fro places in the city. One second, Reynor catapulted her into the past, and the next, she boomeranged into the future. She found the contrast unlike nothing else, a somehow appealing mixture that made her happy to call the city Ciazel’s capital.

The distant clanging of an incoming train startled Val out of her reverie. Two days spent amidst these streets wisened her; things grew easier to read into. The repetitive strike on the bell was distinctive anywhere, but in Reynor, it meant one thing and everyone in the vicinity took notice.

Up ahead fifty meters, a restless crowd spilled out of the glass shelter next to the crosswalk. The throng rushed to form a misshapen line beside a foam-looking landing pad that covered half the broad sidewalk. Vehicles honked as a couple of commuters crossed Courtney Road—the path intersecting King’s Street—without regard for approaching traffic. Val looked to Kenneth beside her, then turned to catch the attention of Hammer Squad. “Guys, a ferry’s stopping.”

Kylee gave her an expression undecidedly between boredom and exasperation. She did come from here, Val mused even as she paused her journey, stepping away from the roads and hugging the walls of the nearby shops. Probably would see it as no different from a bus.

Val could not say the same.

For the last time—the actual last time, she promised herself—she activated Vague View, washing the world in blue. Not a second later than usual, a street car turned the corner from ten feet in the air. A map of enchantments coated its bottom, firing up as it processed the need to land. Blue lines of script sprawled out to the corners, no different than petals stretching in the sun.

The inscriptions were a work of art, rudimentary enough for her to understand its general purpose, yet hiding any nuance within its complexity. It was an open book for all to read, leaving the messages woven within only available to the discerning. That wasn’t a problem, even if it was a little frustrating to not be in the know. After all, she was to appreciate the enchantments and leave it at that, as Charlee so eloquently put it.

The air ferry landed with a blast of much-needed wind, and it physically hurt Val to let it go without them. The plan for today was to explore, and squishing into public transportation during rush hours—no matter how cool—was not in the works. But plans changed.

“Can we please take a break?” Kenneth wiped sweat off his forehead and he pushed off the walls to stand in front of Val. The group did the same until they formed a small circle off to the edge of King’s Street. “We’ve been walking forever.”

Caro was the first to get a retort out, pushing her shades up with a finger to reveal a set of narrowed eyes. “It’s been an hour.”

“It also feels like 100 degrees,” he added.

“Another lie.” She tsked. “Come up with better excuses and I’ll believe you. Say it with me. You want to check out CITM Arena.”

Kenneth’s face couldn’t help but glow. Val gave a slow nod of realization, looking over his current clothing. Now it adds up. Dark gloves that left the ends of the fingers exposed, black tights underneath cream shorts, and a plain grey tank top that gave his arms free range and motion—Val thought the kid had athleisure on for the style of it. It’s just shy of combat wear.

“CITM, CITM…” Otis mumbled under his breath. “Where have I heard that before?”

“Champions in the Making,” Caro spelled out for him.

“That one arena for children?” he asked.

A slight smirk alighted Caro’s lips. “Score.”

Champions in the Making—called CITM Arena—was a multi-floored duelling center made for kids. There remained one of its kind across the country, which only served to fan the flame of its renown. While Val found it useless to transfer halos for a fight of all things, combat fiends like Kenneth and—though he’d hate to admit it—Caro would go in debt for a chance.

His chance came free of money.

Otis retrieved his hand from the pocket of his khaki pants and scratched the bottom of his jaw. “I can take him.” He looked up at the six-year-old propped on his wide-set shoulders and smiled brightly. “Him too.”

Anderson grinned back before shifting his attention to Otis’ straw hat. Val chewed on the bottom of her lips, her gaze flickering from brother to brother. Up and down it went, with nothing becoming anymore clearer.

She knew she could trust him with both Anderson and Kenneth. As the sole Bulwark in the squad, he’d protected them in vulnerable positions more times than she could bear to count, and that capability extended to her siblings. Besides, his sculpted form, clearly on display thanks to his sleeveless shirt, would ward off anyone with bad intentions.

Even still, some sort of maternalistic fright forbade her from speaking up. Sensing she was wavering on either decision, Kenneth tugged at the sleeve of her jet-black sweater, his face drawn. “Sis, come on.”

Val loosed a breath. “Fine.”

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He pumped a fist. “Yes!”

“I’ll tag along if there’s AC,” Ekon voiced, “else I fear I’ll wither away out here.”

“Poor, poor you,” Caro announced with a great sigh. “A tragedy, really.”

Ekon slowly turned to the Striker on his side, lifting his own pair of silver-rimmed sunglasses.

“Alright, alright. Stop pulling his leg.” Jesal wisely stepped in between the two. “You guys better get going if you want to make a round.”

The Hunter frowned, his eyes flickering between Caro and Jesal. “You’re not coming with?”

“Nah,” Jesal gave him an easy smile, “I’m fine here.”

“Hmm.” Ekon gave an unbecoming shrug. “Suit yourself, Haldar.”

Ding, ding, ding! In came another air ferry right on schedule, setting the crazy flurry of commuters awry once more. With a brief thought, she activated Vague View—yes, again—and focused on something other than enchantments. Grey elemental traces snaked around the airborne vehicle in sleek rivers, outlining the clear input and output of the working systems. Unlike grav-lines, air ferries required active coordination in addition to the inlaid wiring. So it was no surprise to see an air mage’s moving hands through the front windows.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Kenneth rushed off with the rest of the pedestrians, and the majority of the boys followed his lead.

“Remember to meet us at the library at six!” Caro called after them. Before Val knew it, the two piles of blonde hair, one mass of black coils, and the little head high above the crowd vanished within another air ferry.

“And then there were four,” Caro murmured, knotting her summer blouse at the back. Her flowing skirt swept the pavement walkway as she pivoted to them, and glossed lips curled upwards despite the lack of company. “I saw a nice jewellery stand a few blocks behind. Y’all mind if we circle back?”

Kylee offered a succinct nod, then returned her gaze to the phone in her hand.

“Not one bit,” Jesal said for all of them, sweeping a hand. “Lead the way.”

…

Val was sure of it.

She sipped her lemonade, content to stand off to the side as Caro gushed at one of the many pop-up shops dotting King’s Street further south. Gathering of the Guilds made for excellent business and plenty of people used the opportunity—including, it seemed, the government. Stretches of roads near the Colosseum of Elpídes were closed down, permitting the stalls to line the sidewalk, and the customers to roam the area free of cars.

Caro had a field day. No two earrings or necklaces stayed in her hands for too long. She kept picking up set after set, rambling on about their charm. The stand owner blushed with pride behind her cart, no less eager to inform the 5’11 mage of her items’ origins. Her friend had a way with people that Val could only admire, and she had the slight idea that Jesal, watching nearby with a beholden grin, was no different. That wasn’t what drew her worry, though. After all, there was another person in Val’s presence with a distinct personality of her own—and she displayed none of it.

From the millisecond Val met Kylee Lenson, she was nothing short of confident. She appeared comfortable in her skin to a considerable degree—too comfortable, at times. The Support reserved her interest solely for things worthy of such, and disdained all else.

That hardly felt like the same girl who looked behind the shoulder—once, twice—then adjusted the collar of her dress shirt, shifted the crewneck worn above, and jerked as someone brushed past her in the busy street. Out came her phone, on and off within a breath, and back in her grey slacks within the next. She’s fidgeting, Val determined, horrified.

Kylee didn’t so much as blink out of pattern. Now she could barely sit still, as if something in the very air riled her up.

“V!” Caro called up ahead, and Val turned to catch her lifting a pair of bracelets. “Let’s get a matching set. Which ones do you think are better?” she asked, walking over with Jesal in tow. “The yin-yang-based one, or the blue pearls?”

Val waved her off. “You pick. I’m fine with any.”

Caro huffed through her nose. “You’re no fun.”

“Who suggested this trip again?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Caro muttered, rolling her eyes. She was about to swivel back to the stand when her attention snagged on the nearby Support. “Kyles.”

Kylee’s head snapped up from her phone. Only the saints knew when the Support had time to bring it out. She canted her head, confused.

“Isn’t this your hometown?” Caro wondered aloud.

A bob of the head and a shift of stray ice-blonde hair was Caro’s answer. Kylee’s hair grew out to touch her shoulders now, so the ice mage pulled it into a tiny topknot.

“Wanna visit your family while you’re here?”

Kylee gave a soft scoff. “Not in this lifetime.”

Caro opened her mouth, thought better of it, and closed it briefly after. Instead, she held the Support’s gaze in silence, letting Kylee take the lead in the conversation. No pressure or demands—just the assurance that they were all willing to listen, and listen only.

Kylee turned her head away and spoke once more, so quietly, that Val leaned in to make out her words. “I ran away.”

She did what? Val reared backwards and stared at the girl, at a loss for words. Kylee ran from the house of the Lenson clan—and they let her? The Lenson clan established themselves based on their talents for the impartial elements, divination in particular. Safe to say, one of them should’ve been able to foresee the possible departure of a scion.

“My grandmother never demands anything of you. It’s always a request to not test or meddle in the fate of others,” she spoke. “Of course, the one person to ignore my grandma’s pleading is my mother and, as warned, it cost her both of her children.”

Kylee’s nose quivered in restrained anger, a fire lit within her irises. Val’s sights turned on Jesal, surprised to find his jaw set and his gaze heavy. Whatever ghosts haunted Kylee, it involved him too.

“Simply put,” she added with a sharp exhale. “When a diviner—an Archon Diviner—tells you to do something, you do it.”

She left it at that, plodding down the road to inspect the goods in the adjacent booth. The three let her be, though Val needed it more to digest what was laid out before her. The thought of disobeying an Archon seemed no more absurd than actually meeting one, but Kylee’s mother managed to check both off the list.

Honestly, Val could never wrap her head around why Kylee enrolled in Thales Academy when a competitive university sat in her backyard. Reynor University wasn't far enough from home, she realized, puzzled at the lengths Kylee went to be rid of her family, comfort, and position. Being part of the Twenty seemed less of a boon the longer Val resided in their company. Just what did the parents do to these kids? First Rowan, now Kylee of all people.

“Jes,” Caro hissed.

“I know.”

“You knew about this?”

“I was there.”

“Then—!”

“Not now, Care.” He pointed to his ears, then jerked his head towards the sensitive Support. “Not now.”

“Got you,” she said, chewing on her thoughts before deciding on something to say. “Can you tell me one thing?”

“What is it?”

“Who’s her grandmother?” she whispered, scratching at her head through her red hair. “Very few Archons exist in Ciazel, but quite a couple are in the Lenson clan. I can’t pin down her grandma though.”

“Archon Lenson.”

Caro lifted her shades and shot him a blank stare that Val highly appreciated. “It’s the Lenson Clan, Jes. Hello?”

“There’s only one Archon Lenson that comes to mind when mentioned.”

“You mean the Seer?” She scoffed, slapping his shoulder. “I’m not playing here. I need a name.”

A few steps over, Kylee’s shoulder hitched, the knuckles of her fisted hands bone-white.

No. Val went rigid herself. It can’t be. She whipped around to the Anchor and shook her head in disbelief at the absolute grief in his expression.

“This is the part where you chuckle, laugh, and tell me the truth,” Caro quipped under her breath, waiting for the answer. If only she knew that she already had it.

Val gestured to Kylee, her green eyes wide. “She’s the clan’s heir?”

The Anchor gave a pained nod, his face warped by frustration. It was as if he confirmed the last thing he wished was true, and the reaction was a story in and of itself. There’s more he’s not saying.

“If you guys are done talking about me over there…”

Val jumped at the wind caressing her ear, carrying Kylee’s whispery voice over the bustle. The Support glared at them not even ten feet away, her eyes afire with the Mage’s Mark. Val spotted blue, grey and purple—ice, wind, and what could only be divination respectively—fighting for reign, as if an arcane display of the emotions wracking her body within. The pure agony so visible on the put-together girl made Val’s throat close up. She saw it in the mirror too often.

The pain of a loss.

“Then buy your bracelets, thank the owner, and let’s go,” Kylee demanded, the Mage’s Mark disappearing at the next blink—a crack in the wall she valiantly put up, repaired no less swiftly.

Caro didn’t seem to appreciate being shut out, slowly turning to Jesal for support.

He placed a hand on both Strikers' backs and pushed them forward. “What are you waiting for? Buy your bracelets, thank the owner, and let’s go.”