The Second Halo of Ciazel,

City of Nocelle,

Copper-Rung Rift: Thunderstone

The soft murmur of the nearby stream and a harmony of chirps played a duet for the uncanny woodland, ruined by Val’s burning question.

“Conductor, as glad as I am about your ethics, did you not just help her?” she jerked her head at the injured girl, clothes bloodied. “Which breaks the very first rule?”

The conductor pulled out a scroll from practically nowhere, unfurling the gyre of paper. A ray of sunlight caught on a ring during the motion, reflecting a gleam from the canopy above.

“Ah yes.” Carefully applying tea-stained scrolls to the girl’s injuries, his eyes began to burn a light blue. Runes materialized across the page, first glowing lapis-blue. The hue wavered to gold once a few seconds passed, the visible cuts on the unconscious girl’s shins and arms patching themselves up in real time. Healing scrolls are no joke, and neither is that storage ring.

The conductor nodded at his work, dusting his hands clean of imaginary dirt and grunting to a stand. “In cases where one requires my immediate aid, I step in with no questions asked. Do note that—”

“—we’re disqualified henceforth?” Val finished, involuntarily leaning forward.

A smirk found its way onto the conductor’s face. “You sound relieved.”

“We all are relieved,” Williams glared at the girl. “Good riddance.”

“Hear hear,” Caro muttered.

The conductor shook his head, stifling an emotion just short of amusement. “Anyway,” he said, “the refusal of help is always allowed, should the participant be able to communicate such opinions. In the end, it’s always our prerogative, as, to be honest, our judgment of danger is on another level to you all.”

Val nodded, a hand on her throbbing head. “Seems fair.”

Her eyes found their way to the inconspicuous trees, swaying in the wind as if normal, prosaic plants. And that’s only Tier One. Only the heavens above knew what Tier Fifteen was like. She wasn’t inclined to find out any time soon.

To think her parents used to fight such creatures on a day-to-day basis. A gaping hole filled her stomach at the thought, loaded with nostalgia, hurt, and pain. Some days it wore on her in the night, catching her in a brief moment where she fought to breathe. Other times, like the current moment, it was a sudden rush like the whimsical tsunamis of Portside.

The ground seemed closer, her depth of perception crashed in on her, a ring blared in her ears—Val shut her eyes. I don’t need this right now. I really don’t.

“Magic is quite the peculiarity indeed,” Williams appraised, heedless of Val’s internal fight. His eyes lingered on the trees as he walked on ahead towards their bustling group, his boots plodding through the low shrubs. "As bizarre as such an occurrence was, we should probably hurry up. Lest we receive no weapons."

“We’re right behind you,” Caro called after him.

Taking in a great deal of air, Val tried to walk forward, but an iron grip held her back. “What?” Val glanced back at her friend. “He’s not wrong, we’ve got to get moving.”

She tilted her head heavenward as Caro leaned forward, a tier higher than her in height. “In all seriousness—you okay?”

Val’s lips quivered, cracks spreading on a wall of impassiveness. “I will be.”

Caro took an arm in hers, the two of them following after Williams. “Little steps, V. Little steps.”

By the time they arrived, most of the group had already armed themselves. Vacant spaces ruined the perfect line of weapons arranged across the earthen floor. In the absence of modern magitech and firearms, Williams claimed two short swords and Caro grabbed a greataxe, always one to utilize her wingspan.

Val picked a one-handed sword and a shield to pair with it. While her choice didn’t carry the pronounced reach of polearms or the versatility of daggers, it possessed balance, an aspect she prized among other things. The group adopted camouflage cloaks suited for the forest, different shades of greens decorating every thread.

“Who’s the porter?” a participant asked. She was about as tall as Val, her brown hair in a pristine bun that somehow lasted the day, almond eyes void of emotions.

“Let’s say the one with the least amount of aether strands does it,” one of the timid teens voiced out.

“Yeah!”

“Sure.”

“Works for me.”

“That…” Williams glanced at Val, a grimace spreading across his face.

“Cut the bullshit.” Caro pointed at Bun-girl. “You asked it, you take it.”

“That makes zero sense.”

"And you think that twerp's suggestion doesn't?"

"I asked a question."

"Well, I gave you my answer."

“Calm down.” The bearded man took a step in between the two. “It’s a perfectly valid method since it’s based purely on luck. We all know being the porter sucks, but the bag’s got an anti-gravity enchantment going on. Don’t worry, it’s as light as a feather.”

“Give it here then.” Val stepped forward. “No need to check our ASCs when I know I’ve got the lowest one here. Pass it.”

“But—!”

“Cee, it’s fine.” Val unbuckled her shield, replacing it with the loot bag. To her surprise, the cotton sack full of rations and medical supplies was as light as a jacket. She jumped a few times to show them how effortlessly she could carry it. “All good.”

“Great.” The bearded man gave her a nod of appreciation, eyes roaming the group. “The name’s Jerel,” he addressed everyone. “I’ve been in these trials longer than you’ve been in high school, so trust me when I say I’ve got the experience to lead.”

Williams scoffed. “How much is the experience worth if you managed to fail five times out of five?”

“It’s six,” Jerel corrected. “Five more attempts to your one. I could go solo also, no problem with me there.”

“Okay, it’s not that deep.” Caro rolled her eyes. “Jerel can lead us and when we disagree we can just vote. Simple, right everyone?”

A stream of affirmations surged through the group in favour of Caro, a skim amount of gazes able to meet her own. Whether it was her high ASC that exuded the aura of someone who required to be listened to or the confidence that she wore as easily as a scarf, Val would never know.

Jerel smiled and whisked his hood on. "Then let's get to it, shall we?”

Their footfalls remained muted against the damp terrain, the pace slowing down as the sparsity of the fir trees swelled up to crowd the path ahead. The snap of a fallen tree branch somewhere to the side halted the group completely and Jerel threw up a fist. Val translated the sign. Be at the ready.

Unfastening the loot bag and putting it to the side, Val unsheathed her sword and took up her shield behind Jerel. The peals of arrows being notched and blades being uncovered rang out around her.

The first to break the treeline was a deer-like aether creature, about half Caro’s size. It possessed a dark coat of fur and bright, teal eyes. The rarest of positive-concrete elements, lightning, fizzled in and out around its antlers and mouth. It kicked its heels up as if challenging them and darted straight out of the wall of trees.

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Jerel dropped his shield in front of him and took its antlers head-on, thin fibres of lightning bolts streaking across his shield. Caro jumped in next, lashing out with a wide swing of her greataxe. She caught the aether creature on its side, a large gash eminent through its dark fur coat. Val went in, her shield up high to block the next attack. A metal wall occupying the majority of her vision, she bided her time.

Nothing came.

Shedding the cover, she witnessed an arrow lodging itself with the eye of the beast, its limp frame tumbling to the forest floor. Nice shot Bun-girl.

“Alright let's take this slow so we don’t accidentally trip off the safety measures,” Jerel announced, returning his shield to his back. “Will, right? You mind scouting out the area?”

“Fine.” Williams sauntered past them, disappearing into the forest after saying, “And it’s Williams!”

Caro’s snickers accompanied the gathering of the group as they surrounded the carcass. Golden patches coating it from its hooves to its antlers, it lay sprawled on a pool of deep crimson liquid. An ugly sense of remorse enveloped Val. She knew this was technically the right thing—that these beasts born out of rifts would’ve killed her first if they had the chance.

It didn’t make her wrung stomach feel any better.

“Premature Thundertail, a one-starred aether creature,” Jerel muttered, slowly bringing his lance next to the beast’s ear. Once Jerel sliced off the pointed ear, the light vanished from the carcass, existing only on the piece he cut off, now encased in some form of crystal. So that’s the safety measure.

“One point down.” Jerel’s eyes streamed through the group and sighed. “134 more points to go.”

Caro chuckled, eyes on the idle conductor who stood at a distance. “Thank your bosses again for me. Those ten days are looking a whole lot shorter.”

He smiled. “Remember, one-starred aether creatures are worth one point. Two-starred aether creatures are worth two points. Three-starred aether creatures are worth four points.”

There it was again, Oz’s Aether Creature Tiering System.

The process mages used to categorize aether creatures wasn’t hard to understand—the number of stars meant the difficulty the average elementalist would have while the tiers related to its ASC.

The two factors were as intertwined as coffee and businessmen; the more aether you possess, the more you can spell into existence. However, stars could relate to how well an aether creature allocated its energy reserves despite not having much, which brought the trouble of estimating a creature’s danger level.

Williams stumbled into their little clearing moments later, his demeanour shaken and breathing uneven. “There’s a whole horde of Thundertails coming this way.”

“What?” Jerel leapt to his feet, stashing the Thudertail’s ear within his cloak. “How far?”

“Thirty seconds out,” Williams replied, sheathing his bloody swords. “I counted twenty-five, though who knows how accurate that is.”

Jerel’s blue eyes widened. “That’s not enough time to escape.”

Caro unfastened her greataxe from its clasps. “So we fight.”

“Right… right.” Jerel unbuckled his shield and gestured to half of them, Val and Caro included. “You four stick with me, we’ll form the frontline. Williams, I need you to take the loot bag away from here. Even if we win this fight, we’ll be doomed the next day without it.”

Williams balked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Go!” Val shouted, spotting multiple pairs of bright teal eyes through the spiky branches. She raised her shield high, just enough for her own pair of viridian-green eyes to peek through. “We got this.”

“Are you positive?” he asked.

Caro twirled her greataxe and fell into a stance of her own. “Hell yeah, a chance for some action. Finally.”

Hesitating for a moment, Williams cursed and ran on ahead, disappearing through the treeline behind them.

“What’s the plan?” It was Bun-girl who spoke, positioned a good 20 meters away with two other archers. “Hate to say it, but the Erydian wasn’t wrong.”

Jerel jogged right up the treeline, gesturing for Val and Caro to do the same. The three archers stood back. “With the trees acting as a barrier, we can minimize their movement and guard the advantageous open clearing on our side. I need you three archers to pick off the strays that seep through the frontline."

Val tilted her head. “You say that as if they won’t just go around us.”

“I have the scent of their young one on me.” Jerel gestured to the ear he collected, slipping into a hidden pocket within his cloak shortly after. “They’ll head towards me—” he pointed to the carcass left right behind their heels “—and that corpse. We take our stance here.”

“Incoming!”

The beat of numerous Thundertails’ hooves wrenched their heads forward. Val steeled herself as the first beast neared her vicinity. A gust of air left her lungs in a rush as the beast collided antler-first into her shield. High function in her arm abandoned her without a goodbye. Gritting through the pain, she slashed out with her sword, taking the Thundertail in one of its thin legs. The beast crumpled to the ground, another Thundertail assuming its place in a flash.

Val ducked as the Thundertail whipped its lightning-filled head in a wide arc. Shield-bashing it back into the forest, she rose and ended it with a strike to its head. Another appeared from a bush and she side-stepped to the right in haste, breaking proper footwork. Stumbling back into position, a scream she’d recognize any day—anywhere—travelled the battlefield.

Val froze, mind blank.

Caro.

A jagged antler sliced into her forearm. Val’s fingers spazzed out, her grip on her sword loosening as a numbness subsumed the entirety of her arm. Her weapon clattered against the forest floor and the Thundertail forged forwards, leaving her to huddle behind her shield.

“I’m fine!” Caro announced, allowing Val only a moment’s reprieve as she shouted, “Breach!”

“I got it!”

Val couldn’t see it, refocused on keeping her head intact—but the distinct twang of a recurve bow and the gurgle-like cry of the Thundertail followed by a loud thud said it all.

Problem solved.

She hopped back, sweeping her shield to counter an antler attack. She used the moment to twirl, picking up her blade and slitting the throat of the beast in a solid motion.

“Support!” Jerel’s cry pierced through the battle.

Pausing for a moment, she dashed to the middle of their formation where Jerel’s voice sounded. “On my way! Archers, cover the left!”

She brushed aside the piney branches, finding her way to the desperate cry for help. She stumbled into a levelled gap in the forest and gasped at Jerel’s condition. He laboured to hold his shield, struggling to block attacks from two Thundertails near Val’s height. Red stained the scraps of his uniform dangling off his limp, dominant arm.

“Heavens.” Val rushed to block the next attack of one of the creatures, tasting iron as the shield recoiled into her face. Lightning lashed at her protection, the buzz clashing at her eardrums. “Jerel, why on Spiravale are you knee-deep into the forest?!”

He grunted to a stand, begrudgingly raising his shield to block an attack from the other aether creature. “Got too ambitious.”

Val slid back as the Thundertail battered against her shield, her feet making lines on the forest floor. She peeled off, using the Thundertail’s power against it. Caught off guard, the Thundertail was left surging forward and she used the opportunity to gut it, her blade slicing through its side. One dealt with.

She turned in time to catch another Thundertail bulldozing her way.

Jerel leapt at it from behind, the two tumbling to the root-covered ground. Taking a second to aim well at the moving pile of bodies, she pierced her sword at the Thundertail’s head, its form going limp within the Kidraan’s arms. For a time, all that filled their part of the forest was the sound of panting.

Val offered a hand. “We should head back.”

Jerel grabbed it. “I agree.”

The two sprinted, pausing at the sheer carnage spread across the clearing. Corpses ornamented the battlefield, a tang of blood scenting the air. A few side scuffles remained to the side, but the battle in a matter of minutes due to extra aid from those free.

“Roll call!” Jerel ordered, wiping the blood that spattered across his face.

“One,” Val started the count, sheathing her sword.

Caro winced as she leaned against her greataxe for support. “Two.”

“Three,” the female archer continued, counting the arrows left in her quiver. She clicked her tongue and looked toward Williams. “I might need your shortsword real soon.”

“Four.” Williams whisked his sheathed sword from his cloak and tossed it to the female archer. “Take it now, just in case.”

“Five.” Jerel’s attention streamed toward the two remaining participants. One of which was shivering as if they were stuck in the midst of a blizzard and the other completely in another place, eyes dull.

“I…” It was the timid teen archer who spoke. He gripped his leg for it to stop shaking. “I’m out. Sorry. I-I can’t do this for a living.”

“M-me too…” the other said.

“We already lost two due to injuries, we can’t afford to lose any more!” Caro yelled.

Val sighed. “Leave them be.”

“May I ask for confirmation,” a conductor emerged from the depths of a tree’s silhouette, voice distorted as he left the plane of… darkness? Shadows? He materialized into a normal, Kidraan man, ambling forward to meet their group at the center of the clearing.

“Saints!” Caro whispered, leaping off her weapon and wincing. “Give a girl a warning next time.”

“Confirmation?” the new conductor pressed.

“I’m out.”

“Me as well.”

“Understood.” The mage tapped the side of his head. Squinting, Val caught the glow of a rune near his ear. “Two have asked to drop out within my team. Send an overseer to my position. Also, tell Magister Leon to recall his scry-cube in Sector Three,” he ordered, glancing back at the five remaining participants and snorting.

“If the embarrassing thing I just witnessed tells me anything, it’s that no one here is going to pass.”