Val prided herself on her unfailing ability to fall asleep. No matter the location, regardless of the time, it came easy without exception. In a vehicle so advanced it cruised on the mismanaged pavement, with fleece blankets softer than should be allowed snug on her shoulders, it should’ve come the easiest.

Except exceptions exist and this ride home was one of those cases. The cool feel of the glass window came and went as her forehead bounced gently on its surface. It was the only thing she managed to notice besides the absolute storm of thoughts ravaging any hope of catching some shut-eye. And you know what the funny thing was? She was here for it.

She always would be when it came to magic, and that was really all she could think about right now. Magic and its multifaceted manners of manifestation, areas, practices—and specifically, how mages choose which to excel in.

The first and most obvious aspect was elemental affinity. After getting utterly thrashed by Versetti—she could no longer see the girl as Leah—it became an absolute must for Val to foster in her own arsenal. Elemental affinity offered untold flexibility. In Lenson’s case, it came in the form of advanced spells earlier on in her career. Spells like Sword Graveyard, among others, were rarely in the spellcache of Novices merely months old, and that reality gave prodigies like her an eternal edge.

However, Versetti's affinity gave her wings. Water bent to her will, caved to her thoughts, and that difference in spellcasting compared to Val’s vocal incantation was rather egregious. Versetti fought in the arena with an extra limb while Val wore boots that didn’t seem to fit.

It wasn’t lost on her that the terrain heavily favoured the water mage. That was the exact reason, however, mages with as high of an affinity as Versetti seek out familiars. She’d be able to carry around an unlimited supply of water to use anywhere and everywhere. Just horrifying.

On the other hand, there was the number of bound elements. The advantage was pretty self-explanatory. Spare elements pushed for variety in spells, which equaled more strength, and then in turn brought in the funding required to give you additional spells. The cycle fed into itself seamlessly, like a masterfully crafted art piece you could only appreciate once you stepped back. Caro was a living example as a rising star in the duelling scene. For magma alone, her list of spells doubled that of Val’s—and she barely even used the element at times!

Then came the heaviest weighted factor: magical aptitudes. ASC—aether strand count—was the common bottom line for mages of any rank. Sure, the end of a mage’s energy pool became harder and harder to see as one advanced, but it never failed to set mages apart. After all, once you ran out of aether, your magical abilities remained vastly inhibited. There was no way around it. The farther that bottom line was, the more leeway mages gained in both magical techniques used and spells cast.

Val couldn’t afford to stop worrying about aether strand management. Each spell needed to be used effectively or else she’d be put at a significant disadvantage to her peers. Mages like Caro and Lenson possessed the wherewithal to miss—to experiment mid-battle while knowing they had so much left to use. It lifted tons of mental stress off their shoulders as they pelted their opponents with too many spells to count.

Conversely, a mage’s PAST was a little more troublesome for Val to analyze. It’s difficult to see its direct impact when it’s behind the scenes. Val stole Aeron from his outing with Silann—Caro deemed it a date, but that might’ve been a stretch—for a bit to get him to clarify the impact of someone's Position on the Aether Spectrum of Talent.

According to him, the elemental society referred to it as a passive attribute. It boosted one’s ability to sense and perceive aether, aided the usage of the Five Aether Arts, and supposedly dictated the speed at which a mage cultivated. All of these were certainly important and powerful, but nonetheless appeared resoundingly difficult to detect in her early growth.

For one, she only used a single visual technique. Rumours have been told that while the external art will forever remain a staple in her arcane archives—and by external, she meant through the physical eyes—she’d soon shy away from Vague View and focus on internal perception. She couldn’t wait! Still, that wouldn’t help for a while.

Secondly, she barely used two of the Five Aether Arts, Vague View and a subset of Aether Reinforcement, energy enhancement. Again, her PAST would likely factor into her growth exponentially once the other three came into play in tangible ways. She couldn't count her flimsy use of Aura Manipulation anything notable. Once more, that didn’t seem to help her now.

And lastly, thanks to her very small aether pool in the beginning, her PAST had already been working overtime to bolster her ASC. Unfortunately, it was still in the process of doing so.

This begged the question… what did she have other than a high PAST? What could she work towards, how could she improve? Why did several higher-powers place her in a car where every young mage possessed revenue in two or more of these capacities? When she glanced around the interior of the Jesal’s private vehicle, she envisioned future Magisters and—dare she predict—Archons.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

Each of them held the means to beat Versetti in her best element, maybe barring Jesal since his abilities leaned into support. She wasn’t about to start doubting her own skill and assets, nor believe herself out of place. She’d come too far and grown too much to recede to her former self. Nevertheless, she couldn’t continue to deny a mystery ingredient that set her apart from her teammates. What gives?

Her answer almost made her laugh.

Be brave for yourself.

Caro’s words rang clear in her head. Again. Though this time, many other voices pierced through her thoughts, and the culmination of their advice uncannily connected together to form the perfect answer.

Growth lies in overcoming both the known and the unknown. Dad, minutes before accepting an Aether Artifact.

Just continue to ask and eventually, one day, you’ll be the one to answer. Charlee after her enchanting-related frustrations boiled over.

Will you be the one adapting to the constant shifts of life or will you bring about that change? Fiona during the closing ceremony of the Tripartite.

Each meant separate things, and simultaneously, created a fresh idea when put together.

Of all things, Val was a freaking Metal Striker.

Unheard of.

Uncharted territory.

Unrespected.

If she could get a rednote for every repulsed expression she had bore witness to or the endless questions directed at her, she’d be a millionaire. Most tried to convince her to pick Bulwark when the time came to it. She might even end up better for it. However, if the sureness in the depths of her soul as she beheld a saber in her hand—calloused perfectly to maintain its grip— said anything, it was that she yearned to be a Striker.

It was time she embodied it—that she grew the courage to overcome the unknown by treading a path never walked before, to ask the questions no one else bothered to, and to change what people deemed “ideal.”

It took courage, the very same internalized courage Caro accused her of lacking. Perhaps returning Versetti’s favour shouldn’t have been among her main reasons for taking this step in her journey… It seemed a little basic. Aren’t we all though? Who cared anyway—you have to want change for it to happen.

Currently, she relied too heavily on the Discipline of Conjuration, and it cost her the match from the get-go. When she first bought the spell Metal Puppeteer, she remembered the sheer thrill coursing through veins at all the possibilities it would allow her—and had allowed her during her escape out of Storm’s Keep against the bobcats.

And instead, what did she do? Utilize it for just a chain and the occasional Shard Bomb when it felt necessary. If it seemed absurd to leave it at that, then why do it?

Originally, she didn’t want to stray too far from the norms. Her first plans were to, in Caro’s words, add a little spice and pizzazz, while remaining as something people could recognize. Now that seemed merely… Boring.

There wasn’t a guide in sight, so she bore no reason to hold back. She didn't want to merely stray; she wanted to become. The revelation was freeing. Ideas began flowing and interesting prospects tickled her curiosity. Though she couldn’t see it under her armour, the hair on her arms stood on end. The exhilaration of a breakthrough, of a window in the face of a wall, leaked onto her face without her notice.

“Why is she smiling like that?” Jesal whispered into Caro’s ear across from Val. Her eyes cleared at the question, dragging her internal concentration outwards. The passenger’s compartment carried eight spots in total, split equally by a narrow space in the middle for legroom.

Jesal hinted at a hidden trunk beneath their boots full of drinks, paired with a state-of-the-art IBR interface. She hardly needed to see it to believe it, considering the fact the vehicle traded leather seat belts for magic. Enchantments marked each square inch of the places, and the gravity-inclined ones nailed Val to her seat quite convincingly when required.

Caro and Jesal sat glued together, previously invested in some sort of LIE-based conversation, while Nightingale was far off to the side. Val mirrored the Hunter in terms of space, though it was Otis who sat in the opposing seat next to Lenson.

Val blinked and straightened out her posture, her interest piqued. “Who is?”

Caro glanced at Jesal beside her, and then snorted. “You, you big dumbo.”

She touched her lips, surprised to find them upturned. “I am smiling.”

“And here I thought Hayes was the dull one,” Nightingale sighed on the window, shaking his head like she was the sorriest case in the country.

Otis stretched over the space to shove the Hunter square in the shoulder. “That’s mean.”

“It was a joke,” he said, scowling. “Either way, I find a bad joke better than hiding a familiar. An obscenely rare one, at that.”

The air stilled completely.