Seeing Lionel in the flesh does my heart good. Healthy and hale once more, he swaggers into the hot shop at the Orpheus looking like he owns the place. The tightness around his eyes and the grim set to his jaw have disappeared. He’s back to his usual mischievous half-smile that makes him seem like a perpetual jokester. Which he is.

I hurl myself across the room at top speed, the studio blurring in my sight, and wrap up my best friend in a hug.

“Oof! When did you get so strong?” Lionel wheezes, staggering backward a few steps under the force of my greeting. He slaps me on the back a few times, squirming as he fails to extricate himself from the vice grip of my hug. “Good to see you too buddy.”

“You’re alive! I can’t believe it worked!” I cackle, releasing him and stepping back.

He crosses his arms and gives me a mock glare. “You mashed together an unknown enchantment, flooded it with mana, and pointed it at me without knowing what would happen?”

I mirror the impish grin that takes over his face. He’s too happy to keep up the front of pretending to be miffed. We both know full well that Lionel enjoys impossible odds and grand adventures. He’s not even remotely mad at me; he’s going to tell this story for the rest of his life.

I shrug one shoulder. “Someone had to be reckless in your absence.”

Lionel laughs until he snorts. He raises a single finger, asking for silence, but requires another few moments to compose himself. His grin grows sharp-edged when he finally speaks. “Pretty sure you always had that covered, Nuri.”

“Slander!” I sputter in protest.

“Eh, pretty hard to argue with that assessment, dear brother,” Mikko cuts in, elbowing me in the ribs and nearly knocking me over in his enthusiasm. We’re all so strong these days.

He’s beaming ear to ear, just like the rest of us. If I look half as goofy as my teammates, then I definitely don’t want Ozana spying on me during this reunion. I obscure all of her scrying sensors with a pulse of mana, then unblock them again as I come to the conclusion that I’m too happy to care what others think of me right now.

The Linas are matching each other, arms folded and knowing expressions on their faces, as they join the rest of the team in smirking at me. They don’t have to speak up; I already know they’re looking forward to less reckless behavior in the future. They’re enjoying the way the rest of the team is ribbing me way too much.

Overjoyed at being reunited with my friends, I don’t even mind the teasing. In a way, I’d feel worse if they didn’t tease me. I’ve gotten too accustomed to the battle of wits, or just flat out insults—delivered in love, of course—and I don’t think I’d adjust well to a change of dynamic.

“Nuri, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Lionel tells me, growing uncharacteristically serious. He’s unusually pensive, as though concerned about how I might react, which makes me wonder what he possibly could have on his mind that would put him on edge.

“Looking forward to it,” I say, smiling softly. I hope my encouragement shines through. It’s hard to tell exactly how my body language will be interpreted. Even though we’ve known each other well for a very long time, we haven’t communicated on any meaningful level in a while.

In my defense, he’s been comatose.

“I hardly know where to begin,” I say, and we both let out awkward chuckles. “I’ve been on the hunt for a cure, in addition to evolving my Class and expanding my soul. How about you?”

“Is that why everyone at the Menders campus was whispering about a terrifying [Mage]? That was you?” Lionel says, his eyes growing wide.

“Afraid so.”

“Wow. That’s . . . that’s a lot to take in. I thought you’d be a [Glassworker] for life,” Lionel says. “Oh, Azariah is going to love this development. He’s finally right about you!”

“Half-right,” I correct Lionel.

He raises his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I’m a [Glass Mage] now. Best of both worlds, if you think about it.”

“Or just a mutt,” Lionel says brightly.

“It’s not too late to put you back under,” I mutter darkly, glaring at my friend in mock anger.

“Try me. I’m like a ghost. Impossible to put down. Ready to haunt your dreams,” Lionel says, shadow-boxing the air and making sound effects as he dodges my pretend attacks.

“What’s your news, Lio?” Melina asks, breaking into the conversation before it devolves into an actual good-natured fight between us.

“I got a new Skill that I’m dying to try out,” Lionel informs us grandly. “Well, I’m not dying anymore, but I just gotta see what it can do! You’re the perfect test subject.”

“And you accuse me of being reckless!” I say with a laugh.

“It’s called [Runic Restoration],” he says, waggling his eyebrows at me. “Betcha it’s pretty good.”

Rakesh’s notebook appears in his hands faster than I’ve ever seen before. He’s already taking notes on the name of the new Skill that Lionel earned. He’s squinting at Lionel as though he can see right through him and figure out the effects of the runic arrays that make up the Skill structure, which reminds me that I really should teach him Viewing sometime. Rakesh would put a technique like that to good use.

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“Sounds incredible,” I say, activating my own technique to take a peek. I suck in a sharp breath as the shape and function of the healing-adjacent Skill come into focus. My jaw works, but I’m barely able to squeak out further words. If Lionel’s [Runic Restoration] does what I think it can, then he’s about to change the world.

“Whatever it is, be quick about it,” Rakesh says. “My birds just returned with news.”

We gather around the [Researcher] expectedly. He frowns at the words printed on the bird, a stormy expression passing across his face. “Looks like the [Inquisitors] just made their move on Gilead. We have only a few minutes until the city is absolutely buzzing.”

“What did you do?” Lionel asks, his jaw dropping as he looks back and forth between the two of us. “I thought my Skill was the biggest news of the day!”

I scratch my chin and look away, coughing to cover my embarrassment. “Sorry we didn’t include you in the planning. I guess you could hear more than we thought, huh?”

“I heard everything,” Lionel confirms quietly. His face twists, covered in shadow for a moment. He shakes his head, clearing everything away, and smiles as bright as the sun. “All behind us now! Did you blow up another smuggling operation?”

“Something like that,” I mutter, still feeling guilty that we didn’t keep Lionel apprised of the plans we made with the [Inquisitors]. “We dug up the rest of the conspiracy. Saphora’s team is about to get a nasty surprise.”

“Trying to become a magic revolutionary for your next Class?” Lionel teases.

“Nah. Doesn’t fit well with glass,” I say, returning his grin. Then I tilt my head to the side, thinking. “Actually. I guess there is a lot of synergy. My flying creatures are scrying across all the streets right now. When we get into the thick of the battle, I’ll pull up the image on the mirrored table over there. We’ll have the best view in the entire city.”

“I knew it! Class upgrade is pretty much locked in once you hit the Second. You’re such a good little dog of the Army,” Lionel says.

“Hey! I’m not like Nicanor,” I start to protest. It comes out a bit weak in my own ears. I’m nowhere near as flashy in battle as he is, but otherwise I’ve been just as effective for the cause, despite my complicated relationship with Densmore. I’m not fond of those in power, but I do love my country.

Bah. Politics are complicated.

Lionel crosses his arms. “Once is a coincidence. Twice is a trend, Nuri. You’re pretty good at this. We’re a great special operations team.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘we’ are a great team? You were unconscious for most of it!” Avelina says in a huff, interrupting our conversation.

Lionel glares at her for a long moment, then bursts out laughing. “Can’t argue with that. But, hey, let’s get back on track. Whatever scheming and plotting you’ve got going on can wait. Time for my Skill to shine.”

My breath catches in my throat when Lionel beckons me over. He reaches for my left arm and examines the skin that’s grown over the wrist. “Hmm. Bit off more than you could chew. As usual. Let’s take care of this!”

Mana swirls around him, tinged with the green of growing things and the burnished golden sheen of a perfect summer day. Power suffuses my wrist, tingling like a thousand tiny needles. The skin over the missing end of my wrist bubbles, stretches, and elongates as new flesh and bone push through the left over scarring.

A look of such pure joy and satisfaction radiates from Lionel that I can’t help myself. Hot, salty tears leak out of the corner of my eyes despite my exemplary control. After the last year of struggle and shame, a way forward presents itself.

Instantly, I activate my [Arcane Domain: My Eyes Shall the Veil], not wanting to let the incredible display of power go to waste. Emotional turmoil or not, I’m the best suited on the team to figuring out the mechanism of the Skill. If I can unlock the hidden meaning of the hundreds of new runes that slot into the array I can half-interpret, then I’ll help usher in the dawn of a new age of healing.

Melina and Rakesh are whispering feverishly in hushed, awed tones, caught up in the wonder of seeing a completely new Skill. Their discussion fades away into the background as I draw the full force of my attention to the phenomenon in my arm and wrist.

From the ashes, life emerges. Phoenix-like, beauty comes from death. The Rift took my hand—a fair trade for the life of the townspeople—and now Lionel is giving it back.

Incredible thrums of energy shoot through me while the [Runic Restoration] works. Each pulse of power almost drives me to my knees under the pressure, but I grit my teeth and force myself to stay standing. I don’t want to miss anything. Layer by layer, new bone, blood vessels, muscle, and skin knits together. It’s not as bad as when the energy of an entire lesser Rift melted off my hand, but it’s still a bonfire of agony.

I try to smile at Lionel in encouragement, ignoring the waves of pain, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. He’s too caught up in guiding the potent Skill as it restores what was lost. I lean against my scrying table for support, no longer trying to hide how much the restoration hurts. He can’t see me anyway.

My biggest worry was that if I looked like I was in pain, Lionel would stop. I can’t bear the thought of giving up when I’m so close to my goal. Now as I watch in horror while he wrestles with a Skill beyond him, it doesn’t seem like much of a concern.

I recognize all too well the trance of inspiration. Lionel is finding new paths of possibility, blazing a trail into unknown realms of healing that have never existed before apart from costly artifacts such as the Azure Rod, and even that only works by practically draining the wielder dry. Nothing can break his concentration or interrupt his growing excitement as he restores my hand, which means he doesn’t recognize the danger. He’s not practiced enough to pull this off. Not yet.

“Help him,” I croak out as I realize it’s going sideways. My panic leaks through, coloring my voice with urgency. I try to buttress his Skill, like I did with Melina previously, but his mana is surging all around him, preventing a connection.

Mender Uttara springs into action. He snatches up the new glass healing wand, pouring mana into it to initialize the layered runic arrays. Taking their cues from the Mender, the rest of my teammates link up, sharing their vitality.

The combined spell hits Lionel, not me. Blinking in surprise, I’m about to call out for them to switch targets when it dawns on me that this is exactly the support Lionel needs. Shored up by their revitalizing energy, he forges ahead, layering both mana and vitality to fuel the working.

Light blooms in my Domain, as brilliant as a thousand suns invading the night, as a last rush of overwhelming power finishes the task at hand. By the time I blink away the tears and my vision returns, Lionel is sprawled on a bench nearby, breathing heavily from the exertion. Sweat beads across his forehead, and he looks gaunt, as though he’s overdrawn his own vitality to heal me, but he’s triumphant.

My teammates gawk, their gazes locked onto the end of my arm. Barely believing my own eyes, I look down at the lined palm and bent knuckles and newly-grown fingernails at the end of my left arm. With trembling fingers, I reach over with my right hand and clasp my own hand, savoring the sensation of flesh and blood after so long.

Before I can indulge in any more sentimentality, a muffled explosion rocks the Orpheus. My eyes dart over to Rakesh, who’s speaking into a folded paper bird that flutters near his ear, and the grave expression on his face confirms what I already knew. Celebrations will have to wait. The [Inquisitors] are here.