If you’re high silver, though, how far off would I be?
Kenneth scoffed under his breath as the thought took hold of his attention, distracting him from the theory-based books on his desk. Pretty damn far, he answered internally and his mind whirled back to the craziness he met some two weeks ago. Turned out, he placed nowhere close to his sister’s magical aptitudes and definitely not in the manner anyone expected.
On Deduction Day, his palm hovered above the Identifier’s lever, the glow growing a deeper shade of frightening blue by the second. Hundreds of gazes stabbed his lanky back, many times over the number in his sister’s event. With the importance of catching early prodigies dialed to the nth within the First Halo, it made sense.
Still…
Four years ago, his eight-year-old self watched Val’s life shatter into pieces so quickly—so undoubtedly—it could’ve been audible. Unknown to him, his repressed feelings toward the memory jumbled up into an unidentifiable mess, and he simply settled on attributing it to the ever-conventional empathy.
Staring down the Identifier’s looming figure, though, he finally pinned down the exact connotation behind it all. The leering crowd, the utter shock etched Val's pain-stricken face, the entire event… haunted him. It scared him in the middle of the day, at night laying on his pillow, and right now even with a set of the creepy ensemble on either side of him.
Valory weathered blow after blow like a rock, holding it together when Mom fell sick and sticking through the aftermath of Dad’s seemingly controversial passing. Off all things, landing an ASC of eleven did the trick, hammering in the final nail in the coffin.
Deep down, in the depths of his subconscious he often failed to acknowledge, Kenneth realized he lacked the bearings to cope with the same devastation. If he didn’t know it before, his explosion in Central Tech blew it up for everyone to see.
I need this, alright you stupid old thing? His gaze on the instrumental device sharpened to a mean glare. Motivation cemented and fear somewhat abated, he went ahead and grasped—or, more accurately, clenched—the shining knob. The rapid-fire dings sliced through his crumbling focus, as dizzying as Andy tapping a glass cup non-stop.
Wincing, he stepped back to behold the orbs lit up all the way to green. He didn’t realize his jaw dropped until he snapped it up to inhale a sharp breath.
Eighty aether strands.
“Hot damn…” he heard Caro curse, Miss Pepper not present to berate her former student this time. The roar of the crowd drowned out any other words that might’ve followed, charging the air with electric excitement. An excitement that, strangely enough, failed to reach him.
Instead of the sheer thrill he expected to overcome him in waves, a deadening guilt tangled a knot inside his stomach. He turned around, glancing over the scouts—phone to the ear, pens on notepads—and zeroing in on Val’s face. After unraveling the emotional turmoil within, her feelings toward his magical aptitudes inadvertently became his utmost interest.
He sensed a twinge of mutual guilt in her viridian-green eyes, sitting as tense as a coiled spring on the lower levels of the stands. Kenneth dared to give a nod, a branch to absolve for many what could develop into an unbridgeable gap between family. And that tiny guilt, one he felt for his ASC and one she probably felt for desiring it, disappeared the second she returned the gesture.
Val tilted her head to the side, dark-brown hair falling over the shoulder, and attempted a sentence in the clamourous gymnasium. Your plan worked, he read her lips, and the two shared a secret grin. Of course, they both knew that, ultimately, his PAST would determine whether the day ended as one to remember or one to forget. Yet, the same rule that led no one to believe Val’s PAST could overturn her ASC foretold good news: aptitudes remained tied intricately.
Later on, a tester classified him a low gold, sealing his fate as a national prospect. Caro vibrated with anticipation, and his back ached as he remembered the number of times she clapped him on the shoulders. Val grinned the widest he’d seen in years, a sight hard to witness through all the times she tousled his hair. Andy… well, he was just Andy, giggling and begging for a snack the moment they left the event hall. No matter the circumstance, little Andy never changed.
The same couldn’t be said for others.
The classroom’s door snapped open and snatched him from his thoughts, returning him to the present. One of his new classmates entered, red in the face once his gaze crossed hers. Ollie—or was it Ozzie?—scurried to one of the fifteen seats in the small classroom, making it a point to actively look away from him. Not another one.
His head turned 360, receiving a scattered round of delayed hand waves or eerily bright expressions. None of which he earned before Deduction Day. He shuddered to picture how Val’s life flipped, or even Caro’s sharp rise in popularity. The shift in status set his—and likely theirs—entire world off-kilter.
“Alright, students.”
A teacher kicked the door stopper inside, letting the metal frame slam against the threshold. It killed the idle chatter, compelling the young teens to face the entering middle-aged Auricean. Kenneth struggled to remember the man’s name, unhelped by the odd nickname whispered around in the halls. T-Bone, they called him, because the white hair in his brown beard aligned perfectly to form the letter. Too bad it’s accurate, Kenneth mused.
T-Bone dropped his disorganized notes on his desk and picked up a stray piece of chalk, scraping it against the blackboard. “You’ve undergone one of the major milestones for prospective mages,” he said, with the back of his white-collared shirt facing his class. “Can someone name all three?”
“Deduction Day,” a Kidraan boy added without missing a beat. He shaved his curly black hair to a mohawk to stave off the growing heat of the season, revealing the faintest bruise underneath his left eye previously covered by his bangs. It was, without a doubt, Kenneth’s handiwork and he made it a point to sit right beside the former annoyance, daring him to say anything. “The Tripartite Trial and the Rite of Specialization,” the boy said.
“Correct,” T-Bone put the finishing touches on a brainstorm bubble, with one word at the center.
Awakening.
“For young students like yourselves, the next big step is passing the Tripartite Trial. Awakening, naturally, is the end goal of the event, making it quite appropriate to begin our first class on the matter.” He dropped the chalk, his steady gaze roaming the compact room. “We’ve picked fifteen out of the hundreds in your grade, fifteen that we believe will go on to the best Prep schools after this summer class. I intend to get you ready.”
Dusting off his hands, he grabbed a meter stick and gestured to his work. “Now, there are two main types of awakening—mechanically-induced and self-induced. From the names alone, I’m sure many of you can figure out what they mean, but for clarification’s sake,” he pointed to Ozzie. “Define them, please.”
Ozzie stifled a groan, slouching onto her desk to rest her chin in an open palm. “Mechanically-induced awakenings happen through an outside source. The manifestation orbs used in the trials are the perfect example.”
T-Bone raised an eyebrow, urging her to continue. She sighed, relenting once the uncomfortable silence became too much to bear. “Self-induced awakenings occur randomly within a person, happening during events ranging from a fire to a funeral.”
“And that’s where we will begin,” T-Bone picked up for her, pushing off the blackboard’s slight edge to join the class in looking at his work. “You see, those awakenings aren’t as random as you think, because there’s a science supporting each case.”
Kenneth surveyed the thought circles spanning from the bolded awakening at the center, all coming together to create a Venn diagram. It listed words he understood for the most part—mind, body, and soul in the main parts. Other terms that Kenneth deemed unclear settled in the overlaps: spirit, heart, and metaphysics.
“I present to you the States of Being,” T-Bone said. “The layered existence of any sapient being.”
His trusty meter stick cracked against the word spirit. “Sometimes, these layers and states are called bodies. The spirit, for example, is of the Spiritual Body, and this—” he patted his forearm “—is obviously the Physical Body. We have six states, half that is primary and half that stem from the previous.”
This is super under-explained. Kenneth’s gaze traced the drawing, unable to come to terms with the lesson of the day. For one, how exactly did the secondary states come from the others? He could play along with a few, like the Metaphysical Body as a combination of the body and soul. Unless interested in the details, all mages needed to understand was the unity found between the physical and immaterial planes. As noted by T-Bone, aether channels and the Aetherial Vessel resided within this state, and it lined up cleanly when broken down.
Then, he saw spirit on the overlaps of the soul and mind. What did that mean? To him, the difference between the terms “soul” and “spirit” was as similar as happiness and joy. Here, they were two separate entities entirely, each contributing to the essence of living in diverse ways.
Last came the Emotional Body, otherwise noted as the heart, the mixture of mind and body. It was treated as the counterpart to the logical thinking of the mind, the part to feel, sense, and grow.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Safe to say it was all—at the very, very least—far-stretched.
“As living beings, we need homeostasis. Equilibrium.” T-Bone walked to and fro, from wall to wall, and Kenneth took it as a sign to refocus himself. Teachers were restless when they approached certain ideas, bogged down with topics they couldn’t wait to share, and knowledge they couldn’t spare to withhold.
“Your body sweats when you’re hot and shivers when you’re cold to retain normal temperature. Sometimes, these reactions get in the way, but at its core, it's meant to maintain balance." He held the wooden stick in an outstretched hand and tapped at it side, tilting it one way like a lever.
“This is no different for the States of Being. For most of our lives, we reside in resonance with ourselves, we seek resonance. When there’s a discrepancy, we scramble to fix it whether we’re conscious of it or not.
“As you can probably guess, when something stretches the delicate line connecting the six states, we get a reaction. This dissonance needs to be offset to remain in the green zone, and sometimes, awakening is the answer.”
Green zone? Kenneth's brow furrowed. Does he mean alive, or conscious?
So,” he looked at his class, arms crossed. “If someone awakens in a house fire, which State of Being is out of harmony? Which state is being harmed so badly, it affects the others?”
“The body,” a student answered. “The Physical Body.”
T-Bone gave a satisfied nod. “What if someone manifests as a lightning mage during a funeral of their close friend?”
“The Emotional Body,” Ozzie muttered with a thoughtful expression. “The heart.”
“Has this been proven yet?” Kenneth didn’t mean to sound like a smart-ass, and he knew his disbelieving tone didn’t help his case. Seriously though, the heart as a layer of existence? Yeah right.
“Like most magical conclusions,” T-Bone said, “it’s a theory, one still waiting to be disproven.”
“Okay, let me poke a few holes then.” Kenneth threw a hand in his neighbour’s direction. “Let’s say his family’s gotten into an accident. Just terrible really, and his whole family has been left in critical condition,” Kenneth’s neighbour didn’t take kindly to the example any more than the bruise on his face, a strained grimace wide across his face. “Will he awaken on the spot due to ‘emotional stress’?”
“Let me answer your question with another,” T-Bone countered. “If I were to give you a good blow to the chin, how would you react?”
Kenneth narrowed his golden eyes. “I wouldn’t blink.”
That got a chuckle out of him. “I doubt that, but sure. You would do that while another one of your classmates would break out in tears. A few may even blackout. What I’m saying is…”
He swirled his meter stick in a circle. “Everyone’s threshold is different. What topples one person may feel like nothing to the next. A reason self-induced awakenings are obsolete is its variety, without a concrete trigger mechanism in sight.”
Kenneth rubbed his cheek. “So if I hit this threshold—if anyone hits their threshold, would we awaken?”
“No,” T-Bone replied. “Ignoring the countless variables we’ve yet to discover, self-induced awakening, above all, requires a high affinity for an element. Else, every victim of any sort of suffering would awaken, and that just doesn’t happen.”
Kenneth’s nose wrinkled as if the stench of a rotten egg wafted about. Truly though, the theory reeked of so many holes and inconsistencies, it left him wondering how it retained its status as a theory in the first place.
After all, he grew up in the presence of survivors.
Bradley, a typical Defender working in a field filled with magical dangers, donned his fatigues every morning.
Caro, a young student able to endure the mentally-detrimental and discouraging side comments, remained annoyingly cheerful.
With Val, where would he start, where would he end? Losing both parents without warning or moving to a foreign place? Classified as a borderline-typic, or discovering your true talent years of vain hardship later? He considered his sister the strongest survivor he knew—though he wouldn't ever say it to her face—and even she didn’t escape unscathed. Hardly.
Despite all that, from what T-Bone implied, Val had yet to hit her threshold during those six difficult years? No way in hell. Either she lacked the affinity to induce her awakening, or…
Or what? What remained as the alternative?
Kenneth could visibly tell she had a way with her element, an enthusiasm for it. Not so much like Caro, who utilized its strength for the sole purpose of trouncing her opponents, but for the little discoverable intricacies littered across every vein of magic. Similar to music, enchanting, and perhaps stargazing, magic entailed puzzle pieces left for the mage to connect, and that was a joy unlike any other to his sister.
Bringing home one of her recent spells—Metal Puppeteer, he believed—she worked to use metal links for mundane activities, from grabbing her a cup to pulling open a door. None of it appeared like a severe lack of affinity to him, not in the slightest.
“The theory’s a hoax,” he muttered for an answer. “It has to be.”
“I know self-induced awakenings are interesting,” his teacher went on, oblivious to his musings. “However, the real lesson of the day is manifestation orbs and their parts in mechanically-induced awakenings…”
Kenneth slipped out his phone, and T-Bone’s words faded away without delay, allowing him to scroll through his contacts unbothered.
Rowan
RavenKenny: yo
Row. J: "yo"
Row. J: I see ur rly embracing that hotshot energy
Kenneth’s lip twitched, and he clicked his device off and slumped in his seat. Two pings cut across the classroom’s silence, earning him a warning by way of T-Bone’s disapproved frown. Mumbling an apology, Kenneth tapped the screen awake, interested in the notifications that nearly sent him out of class.
Row. J: alright, ik you’ve been getting that from everyone. Mb
Row. J: did u have smth to say or did u just wanna talk
Gaze flickering upwards, Kenneth ensured T-Bone’s attention was on his broad blackboard before typing away.
RavenKenny: do you know anyone that had a self-induced awakening?
Row. J: lmao
Kenneth’s eyebrows pinched together.
Row. J: ur talking to him rn
RavenKenny: I’m being serious
Row. J: so am I
RavenKenny: my sister would’ve known
Row. J: u think all my fancy jewelry is just for protection?
Row. J: I mean, why hire bodyguards then
RavenKenny:...typing
His fingers froze on his phone’s cracked glass. How would a person reply? I think you’re lying. Too accusatory. What experience pushed you to the brink? Too personal. Why are you telling me this if it’s a secret? Too risky, Rowan could backpedal.
RavenKenny: I need proof
Row. J: yeah, nope. not happening
Row. J: and don’t take it the wrong way, like I know u already are
Got him there.
RavenKenny: I won’t
RavenKenny: can you explain though?
Row. J: you’re my first friend outside all the high society stuff
Row. J: which makes you one of my few real friends full stop
Row. J: I won’t risk that on smth that you don't really need to know. Not for no reason
RavenKenny: why tell me any of this then
Row. J: come on dude
Row. J: because I trust you
Kenneth wrestled a proud smile off his lips, confusion be damned.
RavenKenny: but you still won’t tell me your combat record
Row. J: oh for heaven’s sake, here we go again
“Mister Efron.”
Phone clattering inside the metal belly of his desk, Kenneth’s head snapped up to meet the full force of T-Bone’s ireful stare. “Mind sharing with the rest of the class what’s so interesting.”
Shit. “I’d rather not, sir.”
“Oh?” T-Bone’s ire traded for curiosity. “Would you rather I read it aloud, then?”
For heaven’s sake, he found himself stealing his friend’s line. Glancing down at his device to gather what paraphrase would cover his tracks, he discovered an empty chat. He swiped upwards, finding only his replies and none of the texts Rowan sent. The reality settled in his gut like a pair of weights—heavy, hard, and difficult to ignore.
Rowan dealt with the information too swiftly for his liking. All it did was dump fuel on his already outlandish suspicions. Were self-induced awakenings an event to hide—something to clamp down on the moment it arises? If so, would that fact vary from person to person, as an occasion to celebrate for one person and dread for another?
To be fair, the event spoke of a high affinity for an element, something many dreamed of having. Saints, self-induced mages won the lottery! At the price of a traumatic experience, he berated himself, and the reminder spilled cold water down his spine. It served to clear his head and, rather suddenly, the demographic for self-induced mages slimmed to a type familiar to him. A type vulnerable enough to experience such acute pain, their bodies fell out of harmony, while possessing the required talent.
Talented and vulnerable.
Boiled down to the core like that, could she…
“Gah!” Kenneth shot up from his desk and stuffed his hands into his pant’s back pockets. “It’s too early for this crap.”
“I didn’t ask for anything hard,” T-Bone said. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Bathroom break.” Deleting his remaining part of the conversation, Kenneth dumped the device in his teacher’s hands and turned for the door. “Read it for all I care. You’ll find nothing.”
Kenneth left his thoughts inside the classroom, closing that particular chapter in hopes it fizzled out on his return. Distracted by his goal, he missed the comment that sparked future troubles, the harbinger of things bigger than himself.
“The hell,” T-Bone muttered, squinting at the profile picture and doubting his eyes as they took in the Zingese boy in the small, circular display. “Why’s a kid like him texting one of the Pivotal Clan’s heirs…?”