The next day, he awoke to the sting of the morning sun. His brows immediately furrowed as something dawned on him. Looking aimlessly, he noticed that the fatigue he would’ve expected after a night like yesterday didn’t come. In fact, he felt surprisingly alert and comfortable without a hint of the usual weight that would haunt his eyelids each morning.

He looked at the corner of his mid-sized room, the place where he set down the hammer from last night, but it wasn’t there; the space was empty. Idly, he looked down at his body only covered by his undergarments, expecting to find the injuries caused by that titanic battle.

“A dream then… a really… strange dream…” He muttered.

His body was completely intact with none of the bruises, scratches, or fractured bones he remembered sustaining.

For a while, he sat there with a dull expression, contemplating how vivid that dream had been. He didn’t argue with the notion; it was the most reasonable conclusion. That hammer was gone, none of the injuries were there, and he woke up in his bed as usual; all was as it should be.

Tap. Tap. Tap. “Michael~ wake up. Mira’s outside with the others. You’re late to morning training!” his dad called out behind the door.

Instantly, any thoughts of the dream vanished before the glaring reality he now had to face. He was late for training. His father, being an alchemist, had somehow convinced his mom to be lenient on him after forest excursions like the one he went on yesterday; he was allowed to sleep in a little. That didn’t mean though that she let him completely off the hook; she had her own way of getting back at him, one he dreaded with everything in him.

Instantly, he broke out of the covers and moved to dress himself, grab his practice equipment, and eat a small piece of bread before taking off to the training field at his fastest speed.

--- The Djinn of Atlantia ---

Artemia was a small town at the border between Atlantia and the forest of silence’s outermost edge. It was a small town that was home to many merchants, farmers, and even mercenaries. The village thrived in all these economies, especially its protection, exploration, and hunting businesses. It was unusually prosperous for a town of its size and often received many high-profile visitors from across Atlantia.

One of its novel qualities was the morning training all kids were expected to undergo. From age 13 to adulthood (18), all kids in Artemia were required to participate, no exceptions. It was a requirement all parents bought into, regardless of any complaints the kids had. This was a prime contributor to the success of Artemia’s more dangerous business services.

It only took him a few minutes to arrive. Even though the sight was as expected, it didn’t bring him any comfort, only dread at the silent resentment the other kids held on their scrunched-up faces. They held a squat while holding logs parallel to the ground. To some, especially the older kids, it was easier. For others, their legs shook as the strain threatened to overwhelm their meager capacity to sustain the activity. He had no illusion that it was only their fear of the consequences of failure that motivated them to persevere.

“Hurry up! Waiting on you! Hurry up! Waiting on you!” They repeated with frustration-laced voices.

“Ah~ look who’s decided to join us.” An elegant voice sweetly commented from the side, but he knew very well; there was no sweetness there.

He stopped quickly in front of his mom and knelt with his head down, submissive and ready for training; it was a standard greeting for trainees in her home country. At least, that’s how she explained it when forcing everyone through it.

His mom wore a white tunic of a quality that far surpassed anything he’d ever seen anywhere else in their little town. If he remembered, he once caught her bragging of it being a prize in her hunt against a ‘big whoola’ whatever that meant. He could never get her to talk about it any other time.

Her brown skin shined with a veneer of sweat, showing that she had likely had her own training before this one. Unlike the girl from his dream who let her hair fly with the wind, his mom’s silver hair was tied in a tight bun to keep from blocking her vision. There was a difference there he realized, not that it mattered since it had just been a dream.

What he failed to notice in his distraction was his mom’s normally impassively lazy eyes showing a hint of recognition and a noticeable tinge of shock and concern. No, by the time he truly focused on the situation, her trademark calm had long returned.

“Rise.” And he did. The others also dropped their logs, relieved that she’d acknowledged him so quickly.

He understood their relief. Had she refused to acknowledge his presence, they would not have been allowed to cease the punishment; she’d done it many times before. It wasn’t just special treatment for him. If anyone was late, the same would happen until some kind town resident decided to find the late student. One time, the punishment lasted the entire two hours.

Collective punishment was an optimal way to build accountability. If all must suffer for the mistakes of one, then all will take measures in their own ways to compel compliance. It didn’t always work, but his mom had successfully cultivated the intended effect amongst his generation. Unfortunately, this tactic made her ‘agreement’ with his dad a mere technicality.

“Get in formation.” She commanded with a quietness none present recognized.

He didn’t hesitate to follow instructions. He’d rather not look a gift horse in the mouth and draw the ire he deserved.

As he moved to get in the formation of twenty-six kids formed into four blocks of two rows around her like a diamond, he noticed them picking up their weapons off the ground. Each had something different. They chose from axes, swords, brass knuckles, with bows being popular amongst the girls. They all wore basic hide training gear that the town outfitter crafted.

For as long as they were trainees, they would be fitted with gear. If they grew out of it, they would be given more. Seeing as they were the town’s future protectors, it made sense to make sure they were protected during their training.

“It’s the first of the month. You know what that means?” She raised her hand to summon a golden energy that hovered just above her hand. She held it for a moment, swiveled her eyes to regard all of them, and cast the spell forward, sending a wave of aether toward all of them.

Only two flinched. By this point, the rest were familiar with what came next.

The ground trembled as rocks shattered into smaller pieces, reformed into mirror earthen images of them, and resolidified. The kids in the first rows had them form in front of them, while the opposite was true for those in the second rows.

“””TEST DAY!!!””” They shouted in unison.

“That’s right, and as Joanna and Lenny have just come of age and recently joined, this will be their first time. For their benefit, I’ll re-explain. Your earthen clones each know five different styles of my choosing. Your job is to test yourselves against these dummies five times and see how you handle different forms of combat. As I say every day, you will all fight in your own unique ways. Test day is designed to test you against other styles and see how you fair. It can be anything from crude brawling to the battle dances of the scarlet sands; anything I’ve tested my blade against is an option.”

A hand shot up from the front. It was Lenny, a thin boy that’d just turned 13 and became eligible for the training. His fair skin had just started to bronze under the relentless training that’d shocked him as much as it had all of them. He hadn’t developed too much by this point, but he was gifted enough.

“Yes, Lenny?”

The boy stammered for a moment to summon the words, “Uhh… Miss Azeem, h-how do you know so many styles.”

She just smiled understandingly. It was a question she got from every other new batch of kids. “Let’s just say they’re products of a misbegotten youth. I was… adventurous when I was your age.”

“O-oh, OK.”

Another hand raised, this one from Joanna. She was taller than the average 13-year-old with a wild mane of brown hair and sharp features.

“Yes Joanna?”

“How are we keeping score? Are we judging ourselves or is someone else writing down our results?”

“Ah, yes. Your dad does brag about your straightforward pragmatism. I see he wasn’t bluffing.” she replied, looking on amusedly as she lost half the crowd with her big words. While she taught lessons in the town at a level uncommon, that didn’t mean she was a scholar by any means. Very few read beyond the required lessons and therefore understood some of the bigger vocabulary she fell back on at times.

Unfortunately for Michael, he didn’t get a choice.

Returning her focus back on Joanna, she replied, “The spell I cast is still in effect. It’s watching your battle and recording it in small crystals I’ll be keeping. I can use them at any time to recreate this session with two puppets. Aside from that, both you and I will be taking notes. Combat training is mostly self-driven. I’ll make sure you can defend yourself outside the town, but if you want to be anything beyond that, it’s mainly up to you. You’re not a soldier and, beyond basic discipline, I’m not trying to make you one.”

The girl simply nodded with a look of understanding.

‘She’s a smart one.’ Michael thought off to the side. His eyes swiveled to some of the others, who looked uncaring and disinterested. ‘I wonder if they realize how valuable this is for them.’

While he didn’t truly appreciate it himself at first, believing his dad was overpraising his wife, he came to somewhat understand the value of these morning routines when adventuring into the forest. There were a few occasions when he barely escaped certain death, chief among them being when running into a horned tiger; that was an experience he’d never forget. He didn’t quite understand what other town kids had access to, but he truly appreciated self-defense then.

His mom answered a few more questions while he was deep in contemplation when he eventually heard, “Begin!”, breaking him out of his thoughts.

His eyes focused on the puppet in front of him. He kept his distance, watching to see what kind of fighter this first round would bring.

A battle hammer formed in its hand, causing Michael’s eyes to widen in surprise. While different from the one from his dreams, the proportions were close. His eyes snapped to his mother, who gave him a meaningful look before pointing at the puppet with a very clear meaning: ‘Focus on the training.’

He wanted to ask immediately, but his friend standing next to him interrupted. “Hey man, something up? You look kinda spooked?”

Michael was about to speak when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught his mom giving him a very subtle head shake.

“Ugh… I’m good. I just had a bad dream is all. The puppet reminds me of it is all.”

“Uh huh…” Hector looked at him with an ‘acceptingly’ skeptical gaze before turning back to his dummy. “Sure man, tell me about it later, will ya.”

“S-sure.” He stammered before snapping his gaze back to the dummy, alerted by its sudden charge.

Both he, Hector, and the people around dodged where all of them were quickly engaged by their respective puppets. That was one of the challenges with test day. They had to also watch out for other attacks.

He took distance, raising his hands to a ready position in front of him. Unlike the others who fought with weapons of various kinds, he opted to use his hands. Sure, he’d been forced to train with swords, spears, axes, and even hammers on occasions; his mom had been adamant about him being well-rounded. He didn’t like them as much, feeling they were too common. With his father being a skilled alchemist and teaching him throughout his childhood, he opted to make use of it in combat. It was different, allowing him to feel unique.

Transmutation had three stages: Analysis, Disassembly, and Reassembly. All three needed to be done to complete the transmutation process. That said, that didn’t mean completing the process was required.

The doll charged at him, starting with big, unwieldy swings that were easy enough to dodge. It was simple at first but became much more challenging as the puppet’s movements became more refined. Its swings became more calculated, and quicker. No longer was it just trying to swing at him, the puppets hand was traveling up and down the handle to facilitate different types of hits from straight jabs to uppercuts.

His saving grace was that, despite being skilled, his solid footwork and more agile build kept him safe. Something he knew though was that, despite himself being faster, dodging was all he could do. Unlike the girl in his vision, he did not have the confidence to counter.

Eventually though, just like the man from his dream, the puppet slammed the hammer into the ground, causing a brief quake that not only knocked him off balance, but the others around too. Together with shaking the ground though, rubble rose into the air, which the puppet telepathically launched them in his direction.

Still off balance, Michael had no defense, he was assaulted by a brutal shower of rubble. As they struck, a thin film of aether covered him and flickered as its integrity waivered.

This was an aether coat, a passive field that all trained in aether gained access to. It passively protected the body’s most vital organs from suffering injuries while it was active, but only while it was active. It took time for the body to create it and if it was broken, it couldn’t’ be so easily restored. It wasn’t just a coating, but an intricately weaved layer that was applied everywhere in the body. It was a miracle granted to humanity by the spirits that gave them the capability to battle in ways that wouldn’t normally be possible.

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While he was distracted, a hammer descended on his position.

His eyes widened in fear, heart pounding at what would inevitably be an extremely painful hit.

‘My aether coat won’t last that! It’ll hit!!’

Quickly, he tried moving to block the hit. Maybe he could do something to the hammer itself, but he knew the futility of it; he was too disturbed to protect himself that way and was too off-balance to dodge. It would hit; he had no recourse.

Before it could hit though, the construct froze, crumbled into a heap, and reformed in another spot.

Michael stared disbelievingly at the empty space, struggling to catch his breath as the adrenaline rush ran its course through his body. His eyes turned to his mom, who wordlessly pointed back at the construct.

Her meaning was clear. Training continued.

So distracted he was that he didn’t even notice the others staring at him and his mother with shocked expressions. Their distraction didn’t last long though as their individual puppets capitalized on it, punishing them for their lack of concentration. “””TEST DAY!!!””” They shouted in unison.

“That’s right, and as Joanna and Lenny have just come of age and recently joined, this will be their first time. For their benefit, I’ll re-explain. Your earthen clones each know five different styles of my choosing. Your job is to test yourselves against them all five times and see how you handle different forms of combat. As I say every day, you will all fight in your own unique ways. Test day is designed to test you against other styles and see how you fair. It can be anything from crude brawling to the battle dances of the scarlet sands; anything I’ve tested my blade against is an option.”

A hand shot up from the front. It was Lenny, a thin boy that’d just turned 13 and became eligible for the training. His fair skin had just started to bronze under the relentless training that’d shocked him as much as it had all of them. He hadn’t developed too much by this point, but he was gifted enough.

“Yes, Lenny?”

The boy stammered for a moment to summon the words, “Uhh… Miss Azeem, h-how do you know so many styles.”

She just smiled understandingly. It was a question she got from every other new batch of kids. “Let’s just say they’re products of a misbegotten youth. I was… adventurous when I was your age.”

“O-oh, OK.”

Another hand raised, this one from Joanna. She was taller than the average 13-year-old with a wild mane of brown hair and sharp features.

“Yes Joanna?”

“How are we keeping score? Are we judging ourselves or is someone else writing down our results?”

“Ah, yes. Your dad does brag about your straightforward pragmatism. Well deserved.” she replied, looking on amusedly as she lost half the crowd with her big words. While she taught lessons in the town at a level uncommon to the town-level, that didn’t mean she was a scholar by any means. Very few read beyond the required lessons and therefore understood some of the bigger vocabulary she fell back on at times.

Unfortunately for Michael, he didn’t get a choice.

Returning her focus back on Joanna, she replied, “The spell I cast is still in effect. It’s watching your battle and recording it in small crystals I’ll be keeping. I can use them at any time to recreate this session with two earthen puppets. Aside from that, both you and I will be taking notes. Combat training is mostly self-driven. I’ll make sure you can defend yourself outside the town, but if you want to be anything beyond that, it’s mainly up to you. You’re not a soldier and, beyond basic discipline, I’m not trying to make you one.”

The girl simply nodded with a look of understanding.

‘She’s a smart one.’ Michael thought off to the side. His eyes swiveled to some of the others, who looked uncaring and disinterested. ‘I wonder if they realize how valuable this is for them.’

While he didn’t truly appreciate it himself at first, believing his dad was overpraising his wife, he came to somewhat understand the value of these morning routines when adventuring into the forest. There were a few occasions when he barely escaped certain death, chief among them being when running into a horned tiger; that was an experience he’d never forget. He didn’t quite understand what other town kids had access to, but he truly appreciated self-defense then.

His mom answered a few more questions while he was deep in contemplation when he eventually heard, “Begin!”, breaking him out of his thoughts.

His eyes focused on the puppet in front of him. He kept his distance, watching to see what kind of fighter this first round would bring.

A battle hammer formed in its hand, causing Michael’s eyes to widen in surprise. While different from the one from his dreams, the proportions were close. His eyes snapped to his mother, who gave him a meaningful look before pointing at the puppet with a very clear meaning: ‘Focus on the training.’

He wanted to ask immediately, but his friend standing next to him interrupted. “Hey man, something up? You look kinda spooked?”

Michael was about to speak when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught his mom giving him a very subtle head shake.

“Ugh… I’m good. I just had a bad dream is all. The puppet reminds me of it.”

“Uh huh…” Hector looked at him with an ‘acceptingly’ skeptical gaze before turning back to his dummy. “Sure man, tell me about it later, will ya.”

“S-sure.” He stammered before snapping his gaze back to the dummy, alerted by its sudden charge.

Both he, Hector, and the people around dodged where all of them were quickly engaged by their respective puppets. That was one of the challenges with test day. They had to also watch out for other attacks.

He took distance, raising his hands to a ready position in front of him. Unlike the others who fought with weapons of various kinds, he opted to use his hands. With his father being a skilled alchemist and teaching him throughout his childhood, he opted to make use of it in combat.

Transmutation had three stages: Analysis, Disassembly, and Reassembly. All three needed to be done to complete the transmutation process. That said, that didn’t mean completing the process was a requirement.

The doll charged at him, starting with big, unwieldy swings that were easy enough to dodge. It was simple at first but became much more challenging as the puppet’s movements became more refined. Its swings became more calculated, and quicker. No longer was it just trying to swing at him, the puppets hand was traveling up and down the handle to facilitate different types of hits from straight jabs to uppercuts.

His saving grace was that, despite being skilled, his solid footwork and more agile build kept him at bay. Something he knew though was that, despite himself being faster, dodging was all he could do. Unlike the girl in his vision, he did not have the confidence to counter.

Eventually though, just like the man from his dream, the puppet slammed the hammer into the ground, causing a brief quake that not only knocked him off balance, but the others around too. Together with shaking the ground though, rubble rose into the air, which the puppet telepathically launched in his direction.

Still off balance, Michael had no defense, he was assaulted by a brutal shower of rubble. As they struck, a thin film of aether covered him and flickered as its integrity waivered.

This was an aether coat, a passive field that all trained in aether gained access to. It passively protected the body’s most vital organs from suffering injuries while it was active, but only while it was active. It took time for the body to create it and if it was broken, it couldn’t’ be so easily restored. It wasn’t just a coating, but an intricately weaved layer that was applied everywhere in the body. It was a miracle granted to humanity by the spirits that gave them the capability to battle in ways that wouldn’t normally be possible.

While he was distracted, a hammer descended on his position.

His eyes widened in fear, heart pounding at what would inevitably be an extremely painful hit.

‘My aether coat won’t last that! It’ll hit!!’

Quickly, he tried moving to block the hit. Maybe he could do something to the hammer itself, but he knew the futility of it; he was too disturbed to protect himself that way and was too off-balance to dodge. It would hit; he had no recourse.

Before it could hit though, the construct froze, crumbled into a heap, and reformed in another spot.

Michael stared disbelievingly at the empty space, struggling to catch his breath as the adrenaline rush ran its course through his body. His eyes turned to his mom, who wordlessly pointed back at the construct.

Her meaning was clear. Training continued.

So distracted he was that he didn’t even notice the others staring at him and his mother with shocked expressions. This wasn’t the class for aether users. Sure, Michael was about to be promoted to it soon. The fact that the training dummy used it in combat wasn’t anything that was supposed to happen. These tests were initially supposed to stay in the realm of weapons-only. Sure, Michael used transmutation as a weapon, but that was all he was allowed to use and only up to disassembly. There was no other aether use allowed, not that any of them, even Michael knew any.

Their distraction didn’t last long though as their individual puppets capitalized on it, punishing them for their lack of concentration.

Hesitantly, Michael approached the construct again, ready for round 2. Unlike before though, its weapon was dagger that it playfully twirled in a single hand. When he got close enough, it lunged, its blade seeking his throat.

But it was far too slow. He didn’t know why, but compared to the earlier puppet, this was nothing. While it didn’t quite feel like it was standing still, it was close. He dodged with casual ease and, as if by instinct, his index and middle fingers jabbed forward to stab its chest; it ruptured on contact.

He looked down at his hands that glowed with a familiar golden light. Earth was his element, so this was to be expected but… this time, it felt different, heavier. Unlike his mom who had a sharper aura or his own that used to have a more… looser consistency, the feeling he got from his hand now was far more… complex.

His thoughts were interrupted as the puppet reformed into its earlier, hammer-wielding self.

His eyes flickered to his mom, who’s attention seemed entirely focused on the others, but he knew…

‘She’s trying to tell me something.’ He’d need to talk to her after this training was over. Things were really starting to get freaky.

Idly, he considered the possibly that his dream was more real than he’d thought, but that quickly passed. If it were, then he wouldn’t have woken up as if nothing was wrong. He dismissed those thoughts and focused his full attention on the coming battle.

This would not be easy. But at least this time, he knew what he was working with.

--- A half hour later ---

The kids’ eyes were drawn to the sudden clap of their teacher. “Excellent work everyone!”

Their eyes brightened at the praise, but the more experienced members among them held their breaths. They waited patiently for her verdict, for it would determine how miserable their next month would be. A lot of suffering could happen in two hours and when reiterated six days a week, it could be overwhelming.

“I see great progress for most of you, especially the minnows.” Joanna and Lenny brightened up at the praise. She turned to Hector who perked up at the attention. “And it looks like someone’s developed a new finishing move. You’ll be a stellar hunter if you keep this up.”

“Thanks teach!” He shouted, earning a sharp glare from the crowd. While she wasn’t a drill instructor, she used similar tactics and not being interrupted was a key one.

Still, she didn’t pay it any mind, just moving on and glancing disappointedly at a pink-haired girl on the opposite side. “Tula, out of everyone here, you’ve improved the least. In fact, I don’t even think you cared to try.”

“Cause I don’t care.” She sharply rebutted, eliciting a groan from the group, but the woman didn’t interrupt; she just let her say her piece. “Why should I have to fight? My mom says it’s the husband’s job to do that. I have better things to do. You know, like making money.”

A smirk bloomed on the woman’s lips. “Hmm… you know, you have a point.”

The older amongst the crowd, especially the brighter ones, wanted to leave. They knew exactly where this was going, but they couldn’t; they weren’t allowed.

“I know I am. My mom’s always right. Getting stinky here when I could be making money there is useless! If she didn’t-” her words were caught in her throat as suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her throat.

Her voice hitched. A knife made of some type of bone was at her neck, threatening to take her life. “But you know… once you make that money, someone like me can just come along and take it for myself.”

The girl trembled in place, struggling to keep herself standing on her horribly wobbling feet. Tears streamed down her face as she stared frightfully into the woman’s shadowed, cold blood-red eyes. In them she saw death, madness, hatred, fear, cruelty, and all manner of ends.

Then, she blinked, and the woman was back in place like nothing had happened.

It was as if the floor had been pulled from under her as she collapsed to her knees, no longer able to control her muscles or her bowels. The tears came down even faster than ever as her mind finally processed the myriad of sensations it’d been subjected to.

The woman was no longer looking at her, but the group. “No matter what you end up doing at the end of all this, your gains can only be yours if you’re strong enough to defend yourself. Yes, this takes time and is hard, but so are the various trades your families are teaching. No matter what the profession, building your dream takes time. The reason you’re here is to give you the means to build your own dream, rather than it being broken by others to build theirs.”

“Wasn’t that kind of harsh, teach?” Hector asked lackadaisically, though for those who knew him like Michael did, they knew this was a façade. They could see the vindictive pleasure the act gave him; he enjoyed the spectacle.

“It was.” She gave him a casual nod, stunning the newer kids who’d just joined. “But so is life. All it takes is one time on the road. If any of you are curious about why your parents asked me to do this, why don’t you ask them of the event that caused them to ask it of me in the first place. Beside the eldest among you, none are old enough to remember and even they were only three or four.”

“Got it. But hey, what was up with Mike’s training today?” The others perked up at the question. Many had been wondering the same but refrained from asking.

“I’ll keep that to myself for now. Give him a couple of days and I’m sure he’ll fill you in. Now, that’s enough questions. You know your faults. Reflect on them and be ready for tomorrow’s training. Bison will be leading the younger and weaker fishes through their drills, while the elder among you will be on your own. If you don’t know which group you belong to, ask him tomorrow. I have some errands I must attend to and they may keep me for a few days. Bison and a few moles will keep me abreast of who was slacking off. The report better be clean. Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Excellent. Dismissed.

Michael watched as the group dispersed into their own respective groups.

“Michael.” His mom called.

“Yes, mom?”

“We’ll talk soon. As I told the group, I have a few things I need to do as soon as possible.”

“Sure, what’s-”

“I’ll tell you then. Make sure you’re not late to your training with your dad. Oh…” She paused. “…when you see him, let him know that the ibis has been spotted in the south. The hunt is scheduled and can’t be postponed.”

“What Ibis?” he asked, confused.

“Don’t worry about it. Your dad will know what it means. It’s an obligation we’d previously discussed.”

He shrugged. “Makes sense to me.”

“I’ll see you later.” She finished before turning around and walking off.

“OK…” He awkwardly acknowledged, still confused on everything that was going on.

“Hey man, what was all that?” Hector asked, seeing the coast was clear.

Michael shrugged. “It’s been a weird morning man. I wish I knew myself.”

“Meh~ it’ll be fine. I mean, you were flying out there man. How’d you get so good?” He asked with excitement brimming in those normally causal eyes.

“What do you mean? I got my ass handed to me. Didn’t you see?” Hector just looked at him as if he as an idiot.

“I saw you lose, but those things would'da kicked all our assess and you were fighting them. Only normal one was the second and fourth, and you handled ‘em like nothin’.

Michael paused to consider his friend’s words. “I… did find those two unusually easy. I’d thought my mom was just giving me a break.”

“Teach was giving you a break alright, but those weren’t mooks; they were as fast as mine and you toasted ‘em. You shoulda seen yourself. You were like a force of nature at the end there. Still woulda gotten your ass handed to you by your mom though. She’s a beast.”

“Not disagreeing about that last one.”

“Yeah. Well, you’ll tell me later, yeah?”

“Sure. Mom seems to be cool with it, if her words are anything to go by.”

“Nice! Now, let’s head to the market. I heard Bastilla’s in town again. I wanna shoot my shot before she goes on another of her business trips.”

Michael looked at his friend strangely, “Isn’t she kind of… you know, out of your league.”

“And?” Hector replied, unsure of where this was going.

“Doesn’t it seem like a waste of time? I mean, why go for someone who’s not even in the same strata as you?”

“Because she’s hot and didn’t seem to mind last time I went for it. Plus, chasing the ladies ain’t never a waste of time.” He replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

He looked at his friend suspiciously “You already tried… and what do you mean she didn’t mind?”

“What’s that look of suspicion?” Hector asked in mock offense. “Bastilla’s a pall of mine now; we became fast friends... I think. Hey, I even got her to go on a date with me.”

“OK…” Michael didn’t know what to make of that and he didn’t bother thinking to hard about it.

“Now, ya in or out?”

“Sure, why not.” He resigned. “But it’ll need to be after my alchemy work.”

“That’s the spirit! Meet me at the stables at four. I’ll get the horses reserved, the good ones.”

With a pep in his step, Hector swaggered away as if he were the top in the world. Michael could only shake his head at his friend’s lack of shame or even fear. To chase after one of Guorta’s most eligible bachelorettes that even the nobles have been spotted courting…

He couldn’t even fathom what went on in the guy’s mind.

They’d need to rent some horses to get to Guorta and back within a reasonable time. The place was about 50 miles away. While that distance would be a hurdle for a normal horse, it was only a two-hour trek for the ones bred in Atlantia’s territory. Breeds capable of channeling aether were capable of feats of speed and stamina some would consider unnatural.

Part of him wondered if it was such a good idea to make such a trip on a day when he expected to get answers. The other part countered with the memory of how excruciating such a wait would be.