Shards of a raft drifted on tumultuous waters, aimless and rudderless. The smallest of chunks, terribly at risk of submerging altogether with every growing wave—that piece was Val.

She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t be. A weight pressed at the back of her skull, forcing her head down on the table. Or was it the floor? The cat must’ve woken up and jumped off her lap, for no light or heat reached her.

It was almost like she’d stood up too quickly, and the blood drained from her brain. Her vision darkened. Ice filled the tips of her extremities. Her heartbeat—once quick enough to leap out her rib cage—slowed to a point of acquiescence.

“You may rise.”

A shaky inhale sliced through the quiet. It was her, gulping for air involuntarily. Free at last to merely exist, her body was the first to react, rushing to replenish the oxygen supply stolen for however long it might’ve been. Val’s mind caught up soon enough, and she looked around, not surprised to find themselves alone.

No one would dare to interrupt the Archon. Hell, for all Val knew, people might’ve cleared the vicinity in fear of overhearing her. She stared down the Archon through bleary eyes, forever grateful for Lowell’s foresight. Thanks to his insistence, she carved out time to research the Jin clan and, as such, had no trouble identifying the highly-ranked mage before her.

“Archon—cough—Jin,” she managed to get out. She sat up properly once her lungs finally ceased sabotaging itself, shutting the book nearest to her in the same motion. “Or better yet, the Dynast Dowager of the Jin Clan.”

The woman fought off the smallest of smirks and raised her chin, deigning her with a somewhat impressed glance. “You’re a sharp one.”

“So I’ve been told.” Val thought it safe to give the woman a lookover—to see who was it that chose to dine with her this evening. The Dynast Dowager appeared not a year over fifty, her pale skin practically unblemished save for the faint stress lines framing her pink lips. She pulled her dark river of glossy hair into an intricate knot with an assortment of pins, settling for a classy maroon dress shirt and charcoal slacks.

She must’ve been past her 15th decade. One didn’t just become an Archon; you built up to it well into your years. As the wife to the late leader of the Jin Clan—who most simply referred to as the dynast—her influence over the clan knew no bounds.

Instincts of every sort—as a former pickpocket, a fighter, and a mage—demanded she make a run for it. The sad truth was, she wouldn’t make it to the door. Scratch that. I’d be surprised if I got to my feet. Just the Archon’s mere presence incapacitated anything beyond breathing.

Val knew that at such a high calibre, the Dynast Dowager would be able to control her aetherial prowess at a microscopic level. The decision to debilitate Val was most certainly on purpose; it served as a method to establish grounds for both involved in the conversation. An Archon came to talk and the Novice was to take heed.

“I’ll keep this short.” The Archon crossed her legs and placed interwoven fingers on her lap. “Rowan faces troubles as the heir and can entertain no distractions due to such. Not even talented ones that may, or may not, be of some use down the line.”

“My brother,” Val clarified.

She garnered a real smile from Archon Jin. “A sharp one indeed.”

Val made sure she took the compliment and threw it out the window, forcing down any admiration for the woman opposite her. She couldn’t lie—what was ahead of her in magehood seemed striking, but that hardly mattered if it came from someone who thought of Kenneth as a useless distraction.

“I saw him fight today, at the arena,” the Archon added. “He’s far from talentless. Quite the opposite, if what I witnessed was to speak for him. That being said, he comes from no background and possesses little means enabling him to flourish alongside Rowan’s peers. My grandchild cannot deal with the emotional burden of having an acquaintance unable to… keep up.”

Something cold grew in her gut, and it spread throughout her body the more she rolled the words over in her head. Val drew from that strength, from the very same bravery Caro claimed she held for those around her, and spoke. “Cut the bull. Kenneth just doesn’t look good for your optics.”

“If we must go there, then yes. He does not,” the Dowager agreed frankly. “I would have told him this directly, but optics forbid me from talking to a twelve-year-old as well. People might assume wrong and that is a trouble I would rather avoid. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, I would,” Val said.

That received the tiniest nod of approval. “In simple words, he isn’t on Rowan’s level. Very few are. Have him dissociate with my grandchild as cleanly as you can manage.”

“And if I don’t do as you ask?”

“Ask?” she echoed, and the bit of laughter bubbling past her lips surprised them both. “I’m not asking you, dear. I’m demanding it—and I won’t do so again. Rather unfortunate things happen to those who disobey me. So I suggest you, a fully realized adult in the eyes of the country, do as I’ve said.”

She rose to her feet, but Val stopped her short with one sentence. “If you were truly close to Rowan, you would’ve known the two are in a fight right now; perhaps the friendship you fear may end before it has a chance to begin.”

“Take it from me,” the woman said, with her back toward Val. “This friendship, as you call it, is going to need a little effort from both you and me to nip it in the bud. The amount of struggle on your end, however, is determined by your willingness to listen. So do yourself a favour and listen.”

The woman strode for the darkness surrounding their table. Orbs scattered from her presence, wavering and flitting about. Val had the strangest inkling that they were scared of the highly-ranked mage. Archon Jin peered over the shoulder, her one visible eye burning with crimson fire. The luminance from the fleeing light orbs limned her outline, giving shape to the form that stopped to stare without any of the grace shown throughout the conversation.

Val felt cold, seen through, pierced. Lost to the vastness that was her, Val didn’t register herself gaping. Archon Jin shot her a smile that was anything but pleasant. “The two should be strangers by September.”

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

Two possibilities, two dead ends.

The thoughts, links and answers roamed around and around until it jumbled up into one roaring mess. The small chance of sending someone else to find an aether fruit shriveled to nothing now that it existed across the Divide. The other hope to gather enough renown and money to—just maybe—buy the item off the Jin Clan’s hands shot to zero after Archon Jin’s little visit. Where to go from here…?

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Her eyes wandered, searching the nooks and crannies of their hotel room. She found two queen-sized beds parallel to each other, dressed in white covers and bedsheets. A dark, wooden stand sat opposite the beds, and over it hung one of the largest screens Val’s seen on to date, spanning half of the way to spanning from bed to bed.

The wall on the far right was constructed out of full, floor-to-ceiling glass rumoured to come with an IBR system, which floored Val the second she learned of it. A large closet was tucked into the same side, with room enough for their luggage and more. She let Kylee handle the job of finding a place to sleep and, as a result, ended up staying in a 5-star hotel without retrieving a single note from her wallet.

To make matters weirder, the manager had come out to greet them. A small courtesy to one of the Lenson, he’d told her. Val withheld a stunned scoff. Knowing people sure came with its perks. And burdens, she added privately, remembering that Kylee was off talking to the manager as Val lay in her bed, maintaining the connection between clan and clientele. The three girls roomed here, though only Val and Caro shared one bed, offering the Support the other to herself.

“Val you cannot believe who we met today,” Caro announced, pushing the washroom door open. Sequestered to the leftmost area near the door, Val had to wonder if the steam billowing out at Caro’s feet seeped past their room. A wave of soapy, brown sugar and vanilla scent followed, and Val simply basked in the cleanliness.

After a day full of walking in the scorching sun and sweat-inducing, tense conversations, it was much needed. She dumped her sweater and pants in favour of a tank top and comfortable shorts, tying up her recently washed hair with a white towel. Caro threw on a shirt a size too big, and fluffy pajama pants. On her way over, she grabbed a comb with a long point at its other end and began to part her hair midstride. She plopped on the bed, throwing Val half a centimetre in the air.

Val could hardly grab her bearings before Caro continued with her story. “Once you left we kind of split off into our own groups to search for things. I ended up going with Jesal and Kylee to the upper balconies—”

Jesal and Caro, huh? The two have been growing closer as of late, though she hadn’t a clue of how close. Still, it was a sight to see. Watching bonds grow in real-time tickled her heartstrings. It just felt right. The same could be said for Kenneth and—

Damn it.

“—that’s right. Alizee Rhodes herself was at the library! Visiting cousins or whatever. Still, I’ve never seen Kylee have such a visceral reaction. Something tells me they were close because—”

Could she ask that of Kenneth—to give up a friend that might be the sole thing keeping him grounded after the move? He had a harder time opening up to someone than she did. Finding a person that clicked didn’t come easy and that truth tended to be worse when it came to her little brother. Yet he found someone.

“—Alizee didn’t realize Kylee was coming to Thales. You know, with how the Twenty collects superhuman intel, that should’ve been common knowledge. Yet, she chose to distance herself from—”

Rowan might be under the clan’s thumb, but he risked to be Kenneth’s friend. She’d met him right when he found out his peers saw him more as an object of jealousy instead of a fellow companion. A classmate, at most. Evidence showed that he, too, found making friends—real friends—a task in itself. She’d be taking away one from both of them, and each separately needed a genuine buddy as much as the other.

“—I smell a secret cooking because even Jesal refused to tell me anything. Oh, I forgot to let you know! He knew Alizee too, by the way. Gave her a hug and everything. Those three must've been tight before something changed everything for them. My guess is that it has to do with Kyles’ mom and… Wow, you’re not listening to anything I’m saying. Val. Valory.”

Fingers snapped in the air above. “Spiravale to Val.”

“I’m here, I’m here.”

“Okay.” Caro dropped her wet comb on her pillow and leaned over to stare Val down. “You’re doing the thing again.”

Val tilted her head. “The… thing?”

“Where you daze off into dreamland because something is troubling you that, while unable to be resolved, will feel much better if you simply talk it out with someone.” Caro rolled her eyes as if what she said were no more obvious than the number of days in a week.

“Let’s skip the part where you keep it a secret and do unreasonable things without my knowledge. Just tell me what’s up.” She raised her palm right as Val tried to get an edge in. “No no. Don’t tell me everything. I know you won’t anyway. Just tell me what you can. All of it. Go ahead. Start.”

Silence stretched on for decade-long seconds until Val couldn’t help but burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. It came so unexpectedly, she found herself coughing in the gaps, and hauling herself upright onto the headrest. It hardly helped settle her, however.

“W-what?” The white in Caro’s widened eyes grew the longer Val’s shoulder shook of their violation. She picked up her phone and swiped to the face cam, genuinely at a loss when her point of view revealed little answers. “What’s funny?”

“How easy I am to read, apparently,” Val managed between chuckles. “You helped me decide one thing, though. Thanks.”

She wouldn’t strip Kenneth of his chance at a shoulder to lean on, and the same applied to Rowan. The pair deserved that much, regardless of what those meddling advised.

Caro huffed a soft laugh. “You’re welcome?”

“Yep.”

“So is there nothing else?” She motioned to her half-braided hair, held off momentarily on account Val's unsaid predicament.

“I wish,” Val whispered. “I really wish it were that simple.”

“Then dumb it down. What’s the core of the problem?”

“That in itself is an issue. There are too many hands directly, and more often indirectly, involved. It adds so many variables that I can’t begin to understand where to start.”

“Okay then—”

The jingle of keys stopped Caro, and the doorknob clicked not a second later. Kylee scrubbed at her eyes something fierce before entering, kicking the wooden door close without pause. She marched past the two frozen Strikers, swinging open the closet to dig for her nightclothes. It was only when she made for the bathroom, ceasing her blistering pace midspin, that she took notice of the awful quiet in the room. “I believe I may be interrupting something.”

“Something like that yeah.” Caro nodded, not hesitant to call it what it was.

Kylee’s eyelids flickered low, hiding any emotion one hoped to find in her face. “I can come back if you’d like.”

Caro’s gaze slid from the Support to Val at her side. “Don’t ask me.”

The Support dragged her attention to the other Striker, and Val found herself hiding a gasp.

Kylee looked so, so tired. Half of her dress shirt peeked from under her crewneck, untucked in the hassle of the day. Several strands spilled out of the once severe topknot as if pulled at for hours on end. The white nail polish on her fingers was chipped in various spots, and her usual faint use of makeup was simply nonexistent.

Stress took its toll on the runaway, and it likely doubled on her quest to appease the manager. How’d she even pull off acting as the heiress, and somehow ensuring the man made no move to contact the clan for follow-ups? Better yet, why do it at all? Why come to a trip Val asked them on a whim located in a place unpleasant enough—in circumstance or in full—to escape?

“I am a part of this team,” Kylee spoke. Val startled, struck that her inquiries seemed so written on her face. “Am I not?”

Caro shot her a sharp grin that soon softened into a beaming smile. “You are.”

She let a bit of her troubles on us, Val thought, mirroring her best friend’s expression, although to a milder degree. It’s time I do so as well. “You girls can keep a secret, right?”

“Wow,” Caro scoffed even as she patted the edge of the bed, a small, welcoming gesture for Kylee. “To insult us in so few words.”

“Such a drama queen,” Val muttered. Kylee accepted the invitation and sat on as little on the mattress as humanly possible. The act appeared almost shy, and the thought alone would’ve made her laugh on any other day.

Caro whipped around to Kylee in mock exasperation. “And she does it in less!”

“Alright, alright.” Val regarded the pair, leaning in closer all the while. “Whatever you do, don’t freak out.”