Val was back in headquarters the next evening.
One would think after a vacation that got the axe due to guild work, she’d be put off by seeing the sterile gray of the carpets and the metal desk in tactics territory. She’d barely spent more than twenty-four hours in the old city of Reynor, only to be shuttled off to Atera. Now walking the streets of the metropolis, she found the air both cleaner and dirtier all at once. It lacked the faint, stubborn scent of a recently smoked stub that seemed prevalent in Reynor, yet carried far more exhaust and saints knew what else.
If she were completely honest with herself, she couldn’t be happier to be out of there. For one, she’d accomplish what most—if people knew, obviously—would consider her life goal. A meandering journey led her to the library, which aided in finalizing a few ideas towards retrieving an aether fruit and, therefore, Life's Hymn. Whether any of them were actionable, was another discussion entirely.
Besides, Val wanted to be as far from the Jin Clan as humanly possible. Reynor City was home to the majority of the Twenty, and that included the primary premises of the dragon-blessed mages. The idea of touring the streets and bumping into another Jin kept Val on edge. Granted, being in Atera didn’t lessen that by a considerable degree seeing as she ran into the heir on a… literal run. Feelings did not require logic to make sense, however.
Especially when she considered her answer to Archon Jin’s proposal. Ignoring issues never solved anything for anyone, but it did prolong the inevitable and provided her some time—and that was more she could ask for.
Time to see whether the bond between the two boys held out. Time to figure out a way to protect herself against such a massive power separate from weathering out whatever Kylee prophesied was coming her way. Time to grow.
Even with these thoughts bogging her mind at least once during a slice of the day, her shoulders settled in place, no longer stitched to her neck. Breathing came easy, and she stopped suddenly “dazing off into dreamland,” as Caro so accurately monikered it.
Surrounded by sky-scraping buildings lessened the sense that life continued to become something uncontrollable. It fell back to the regular norm, which to her involved dropping Anderson off at summer school, bothering Charlee whenever she passed by the Scribal Branch, or calling Silann and accidentally getting the entire squad on the line.
It was something she carved out—something she made.
And it sure felt a lot like home.
“I see that we have a theme going on here.”
Decked out in a midnight-blue cloak that obscured very little of his adventurer wear, Magus Kane strode in with a tablet in hand—as per usual. He looked to be actively fighting off a smile as his blue eyes travelled the room. They sat in an uneven arrangement today, with Caro and Jesal on the opposite side by their lonesome, heads practically glued together as they laughed at the clips on his phone.
Val sat in between Kylee and Ekon, often forgetting they were there in the first place. Only when the Hunter turned a page in his dainty book or a notification chimed off Kylee’s phone did she remember she had close company. So quiet, these two. Otis occupied the other seat next to Ekon, his straw hat slung over his face in an attempt to catch up on sleep. He flicked it up at Magus Kane’s entrance at the same instance the gamer pair broke apart and Ekon shut his book.
“Oh right.” Caro all but grinned at the Magus, glancing down at her t-shirt. The adventurer badges, with their many disciplines, popped against the white fabric, a graphic-like design on the six pieces of gleaming metal. They each carried a shield, dagger, arrow, brace, anchor, bandage, and dual swords respectively. “Pretty, ain’t it?”
“I almost mistook this room for a band of tourists that managed to sneak in,” was his response.
“But we were tourists.”
“Fair enough, Hayes. Fair enough.” Magus Kane claimed his seat at the top of the table, sliding the tablet on the smooth surface. “I was pleased to hear you spent time together, and a bit less pleased to have to call you back. However, this quest couldn’t have come at a better time, in my honest opinion.”
Val rapped her knuckles on the IBR-connected furniture, and the ongoing Gathering of Guilds highlights, previously holding her attention for the past twenty minutes, winked out of existence. The floating screen snapped in of itself, leaving a hovering line for the quickest instance before it disappeared altogether.
In the meanwhile, Caro crossed her arms as a growing frown made its way on her face. “Please don’t tell me you forced us back here for a simple quest.”
“In theory, I suppose I did,” he said. “Although most likely call it an expedition.”
“Hold up, hold up.” Caro sat straighter in her chair. “A joint-operation dive—is that what this is?”
“Precisely. The rift was discovered three days ago and was…” He flashed the faintest of smirks. “Actually, can someone explain why the association might call for an expedition rather than simply raise the rank of the rift?”
Caro practically rolled her eyes at him, his ploy at slipping in a teaching lesson seen through by everyone in the room. “Rifts are resources. Adventures need these resources to provide for themselves, hence why adventurers are permitted to enter rifts only catered to their ranks.”
“Cherry-picking by higher ranks is illegal,” Jesal added.
Nodding her agreement, the Striker continued. “However, there are times when risks outweigh the benefits. These risks include a rift rupture that might cause irreversible damage. In these cases, the association himself will seek to clear the rift entirely.”
“You’re correct, save for one thing,” Magus Kane said. “At that point, the risks outweigh the benefits. So why send an expedition when an elite team of Adepts might deal with the job faster, and with less losses?”
“Because it’s our territory,” Val spoke up. “It may be a dangerous copper-rung rift, but it remains copper and that belongs to sixth-class and fifth-class adventurers. Besides, I think Adepts will be needed elsewhere.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Magus Kane crossed his arms, shifting forward in his seat. “Well said, Efron. In case it wasn’t obvious, expeditions like these go to the best-suited teams the Ciazen Adventurer Union believes can handle the rift, regardless of halo and background. You all earned this opportunity. You—and one other team you’re familiar with—will represent Age of Atera at the rift.”
Val rubbed at her chin, idly going through every familiar team in mind. Could it be Clementine’s crew? She sure hoped not, but the list of lower-classed squads she had documented in her time were not many, and it seemed a justifiable choice of an impressive team.
“Orders will be given and required to be followed. This is not your regular affair—there will be a chain of command.” Kane whisked out a thin stack of paper and a handful of pens from his storage ring. “Which also gives rise to the need to determine the captain and vice-captain of this team.”
Not surprising. Rumours implied they were among the last remaining squads without appointed leaders. She wondered how exactly it was to be determined. If chosen by experience alone then technically, the title of Captain belonged to Otis. Should the Magus base it off of the qualities and actions instead, it should be without a doubt, Jesal. That much should be obvious from the many debriefs—group-wise and individual—Magus Kane conducted.
The question was, what angle would Magus Kane spin it?
“It’ll be put to vote the old-fashioned way—paper and pen.” He passed down a pile of paper on each side, then slid down writing utensils one by one, each traveling down through an assembly line of moving hands. “Write the name of the person you think deserves the title captain. The one with the second-most votes will be deemed the vice-captain. I will observe your following results. Should I believe the newly-appointed captains insufficient, I will intervene.”
In reality, it didn’t take much time to write down who came to mind, and it appeared everyone already gravitated to certain leadership styles. The Magus collected the papers as quickly as he handed them out.
“So,” Magus Kane began, reading over the slips of paper for good measure before facing the six Novices. Amusement pulled a corner of lips upwards. “We have a tie.”
“Between…?” Caro prodded, leaning over the table.
“Haldar and Efron, it seems.”
Not Otis—or even Ekon?
“Hell yeah!” was the Striker’s response.
The other Striker blinked, a statue in her seat. “Come again?
The Magus scratched at his jaw, dotted with the stubble of the day. “We can put it to another vote on who should be vice and—”
“Co-captains.”
Six heads turned to Jesal, surprised to witness determination chiseled onto his grinning face. “I think Val and I should be co-captains.”
“Come again?” Val squeaked.
“I approve,” the Magus said, rising from his seat. “Although for the sake of there being a chain of command, I’ll name you captain for now Haldar. Otherwise, you’ll be conversing with one another to lead this team where it needs to go.”
“Copy that.”
Come again? Val wondered for the third time, albeit privately.
In a state of pure and stark disbelief, she hadn’t registered Magus Kane walking over. It was only when he spun her chair around that she flinched, blinking down at Kane. He crouched low, looking at her—taking in the blatant fear in her green irises—on a similar eye level. “I trust you with this team. Your co-captain trusts you to guide everyone beside him. Your team believes in your capability to visualize what’s best for Hammer Squad. The sole thing I need you to do, as of now, is to give yourself a chance.
“See how you do. Look at the evidence. If all points towards you being perhaps a decent leader then, at that point, learn to trust yourself. Think you can do that for me?”
Val glanced around and was met with a varying spectrum of smiles. To her surprise, Otis awarded her the brightest one, shooting her a pair of thumbs-up to add. Refocusing on Magus Kane, she swallowed a dry lump past her throat. “I can… try.”
“That’s all I ask for.” He gave an uncharacteristically mild pat on her knee and rose to his feet. “I sent the info packet to Jesal already, including the location of where you need to go. Be there by 10:30 p.m. Dismissed.”
Congrats V! Caro mouthed in what looked like giddy excitement, soon after twisting in her seat to raise an eyebrow at Magus Kane. “I think you left out where we’re supposed to be at this time.”
It was Val’s co-captain who answered. She could hardly believe she could call Jesal that, even as she pitched forward to hear the response. “Bloom’s Essence.”
----------------------------------------
If anyone had told Val she’d be visiting three of the First Halo’s cities in under twenty-four hours, she’d call them a blatant liar and maybe a little bit more. Yet there was no mistaking the lack of towering buildings and the constant hum of public transportation. She’d crossed the border half an hour ago, but it wasn’t until the road dissipated into rocky terrain that Val let it sink in.
I’m on an expedition. I’m co-captain of this alarmingly talented team. I’m going to captain a team heading into an expedition. Around and around it went, in the very back of her mind. At the forefront, however, were her impending and current surroundings. Tarn City was known for little more than three things.
The first fact that came to mind was the city’s pride and joy—Ciazel’s Upright Military College. While the terribly plain name implied otherwise, the city was home to a school pumping out some of the best combat mages the country’s seen. That statistic very well shot upwards the moment Magus Rhodes—the Spatial Soldier, more accurately called Fiona by Val—made her mark.
The city’s aesthetic came second. Unblemished by the vast blanket of technology and arcane craft so integral to most of the First Halo’s infrastructure, Tarn became a natural resort of sorts. People loved the simplicity often found in the places humans seldom meddled in, and the connection to Spiravale the city offered was like no other.
Lastly, it had a reputation for never—ever—hosting mild rifts. It either veered on the side of harmlessness to a point of omittance, or grew too deadly to ignore. Bloom’s Essence, it seemed, was of the latter kind.
Twinkling lights dotted the way up ahead, cutting through the heavy dark on either side of the hovering vehicle. The car pulled into the makeshift parking lot—marked by a hovering white line that wrapped around in a broad rectangle—of a blustering campsite. The place was filled to the brim with an uncountable number of tents. Fifty, at the very least. They came in all sizes, some small enough for a squad of four, others holding ample room for one hundred. A knock came from the window, and Jesal rolled it down with a simple earthward motion on the glass.
A CAU associate—easy to tell by the golden cloud emblazoned on the cuff teasing at the hand just used not a second ago—offered a nod of the head. His smile was in equal parts forced as it was polite, though his voice betrayed any kind of ease to be found on his calm face. “Apologies for bothering you without giving you a chance to settle. I promise a couple of my colleagues will show you to your compartments. I have to borrow your captain and vice-captain right away, however.”
Caro’s gaze flickered to Val beside her, then opposite her where Jesal sat, before settling on the red-suited man. “Like… now?”
The man, endeared by her honest and quite apt inquiry, winced to show that he, too, hadn’t wanted to impose. “Like yesterday.”