Kaylath woke to the sound of boots on the ground.

‘What are they doing now…another drill?’

He got out of bed and went for his door, but stumbled over something on the ground. Looking down, he saw the shattered remnants of a channeling crystal.

‘She’s going to kill me,’ he thought as he groaned

Just as Kaylath turned back to the door, it bursted open. A tall woman with a ponytail of long black hair and a crisp tan military uniform entered the room, followed by two men in similar attire.

“Tredsil, Merlkay, go back into the hall. There is barely enough room for me in here!” said the woman.

“Yes ma’am!” said the men in unison before they turned and left.

As the men walked out, the woman looked at Kaylath before turning toward the mess on the floor.

“That’s going to cost you.” She said with a stern look on her face.

“Please, Tas. I can’t afford this right now.”

“Then ask Father for money! I can’t keep getting replacement crystals for you.”

“But…”

“But nothing! If I keep having to drag you along, I will stagnate, and the family will lose its rank.”

After a pause, Kaytas’s expression softened. “I know how much this means to you, and the family will always value you, but you can’t hide behind me. Please talk to father. He doesn’t show it well, but he worries about you.”

Kaylath felt a tightness in the pit of his stomach as Kaytas said what he’d expected her to say. She was rarely wrong, and this wasn’t an exception.

“….your right. I’ll talk to him.”

Kaytas smiled and said, “Good. Remember to ask for money to replace the crystal. I really might get in trouble this time if I ask for a replacement from storage.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Said Kaylath as he waved Kaytas away.

As Kaytas exited the room, she twisted back and said, “Tell Father that the diviners are close to finding the destination for the next incursion realm.”

Kaylath’s eyes widened. “I thought that projection was marked a dead end.”

“Nope, we should be jumping in a few days.”

“You're going? They only let 3rd Marks on jumps!”

“Perks of being special, I guess,” said Kaytas as she grinned.

“That’s not what I mean. They don’t let anyone below 3rd Mark on because it’s dangerous!”

Kaytas stepped forward and put Kaylath in a headlock.

“Are you worried about your big sister?” She teased.

“Of course I am! I don’t care about our rank if everyone is dead!” said Kaylath as he pushed her off.

Kaytas stepped back and said, “It’s alright. I’m being assigned to a group of 4th Marks as part of a diplomatic party. They shouldn’t see combat.”

This lessened Kaylath’s concern. 2nd Marks were elites on Thytal. Most soldiers were lucky to reach even 3rd Mark in a full career.

“Did you come to tell me this so I could tell Father?” Said Kaylath.

“Yes…but I also wanted to see if you’d made any progress.”

“Why can’t you tell him?”

“He hasn’t seen you in a while……and I don’t think he’d approve the jump.”

“I don’t know if I approve the jump.” Said Kaylath.

“Well, I don’t take orders from you,” said Kaytas as she walked out of the room.

Kaylath straightened his clothes and walked over to the bathroom in the corner. After showering, he put on his uniform and looked in his mirror to check for any mistakes that could get him in trouble. He couldn’t help feeling envious of his sister. She wore the uniform far better than he ever could. He always found a way to get chewed out for some small thing you did or didn't do.

After some nervous fidgeting, Kaylath left his room to go speak with the general. He squinted through the glare cast by the sun as he stepped out. The windows lining his hallway allowed a breathtaking view of the sea far below.

‘How late did I sleep?’

The tap of his boot on the tile set the rhythm of his step as he walked down the hall. The edges of the complex were built to utilize the light of the sun, giving exterior passages a natural feel. It was a primary reason Kaylath chose a room so isolated, the other being a desire to get as far away from his father as possible. As he rounded the end of the hall, the sky bridge came into view. It connected the dorms to the main building in the complex. The walk across often felt brief as Kaylath crossed into the beating heart of the military’s upper echelon.

The interior facility was a hive of activity. Administrators in white uniforms rushed in all directions to meet the changing needs of their commanders. Occasionally, an infantry soldier sporting the traditional tan emerged from the sea of white. While similar in concept, the uniforms varied in appearance to serve different functions.

The general uniform consisted of a dark gray, full-body suit made of layers of enchanted cloth. The suit was thicker than regular clothes, so they could engrave runes alongside the added protection. As wars were won and lost, they realized that revealing their runes to the enemy eliminated any surprise advantage in battle. They added new layers to the standard issue to conceal any exposed runes. They layered a lighter gray shirt over the bodysuit and wore loose slacks with a matching overcoat. Combat groups wore tan, often using wraps over the bottoms of their pant legs to keep them close to the body. Occasionally, there were up-armored variants with plating over their chests, forearms, thighs, and shins. Admin wore minimized white versions of the standard uniform, as they didn’t have any use for the protective aspects of the issued gear. Each Tan also sported a saber at the hip, with the saber style customized to fit the soldier’s preference.

Kaylath clenched his teeth as he surveyed the armaments of the men and women around him. Hundreds of hours of saber training, yet he’d never wield a blade in combat. He'd once thrown himself at the possibility of service. The Kay name asked that much of him, and he answered with vigor. An honored lineage of leaders and fighters culminating in Kaylath the cripple. Good thing his sister displayed such talent.

As Kaylath walked through the atrium, the sea of admin workers parted. While some glanced in his direction, most made every effort to avoid his presence. Unfazed, Kaylath strode towards the portals to the upper levels.

A soldier posted at the portals nodded to Kaylath.

“Morning sir. Are you going to see your father?”

“Yes…I have important information for the general,” said Kaylath.

“Go ahead.” Said the soldier, waving Kaylath forward.

Kaylath stepped onto the 10-foot-wide rune etched into the floor. Another soldier who had been listening placed his hands on a small pillar with a flat surface at the top. The exterior patterns on the soldier’s long coat faintly glowed as the runes on the pillar filled with light. The glow followed a path down to the ones under Kaylath’s feet. Kaylath felt a slight tug when the runes filled and was now on the 20th floor. There was little difference between the floors aesthetically. Kaylath didn’t have to worry about a crowd as he approached the offices at the end of the corridor. As he passed the open doors of the offices flanking him, he felt the gaze of those far above him in rank and skill. This wasn’t the first time he’d been up here, but the experience was always stifling. He may have been the only 1st mark to set foot on this floor. He reached an office with the nameplate “Kay” and knocked on the door.

“You may enter, Kaylath.” said a voice on the other side of the door.

Kaylath steeled himself and entered the office. His father sat at his desk, looking at a bundle of papers Kaylath couldn’t make out. The man painted a striking image with his bulky frame shoved behind a plain office desk.

"What is wrong?"

"Kaytas wanted me to inform you that she was offered a spot on the next incursion." Said Kaylath, sweating as his father read his reports.

"Yes. I'm the one who approved her going.......That isn't really why your here."

“I wanted to talk to you about my allotment,” said Kaylath.

Kaylath’s father looked up from his reports. “We cannot allocate any more resources to you, Kaylath. The other family members already feel I’m being unreasonable with your current allotment.”

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“I’m telling you, father, I’m close to 2nd Mark,” said Kaylath, “I just need a little bit more each month.”

“I can’t do any more for you without risking my position. If I push against the church’s mark, I will be removed." Said Kaylath's father, rising from his chair and approaching Kaylath. "I feel your ambition, son. I want nothing less than your success, but the family takes precedence."

Kaylath's heart sank as his father guided him to the door. Without the additional resources, his chances of advancement were practically zero.

“Seek other avenues, Kaylath. If there is a solution, it will be outside the traditional route.” Said Father before shutting his door.

Kaylath walked back through the facility, defeated by his father’s unwillingness to provide aid beyond vague, useless advice.

Does he think I haven’t thought of that? If I can’t channel, how can I grow? There aren’t any predatory absorption methods, they would’ve been famous by now if they existed.

There had to be a reason for his father’s advice. Was there something he hadn’t tried? Some teacher he hadn’t consulted?

Kaylath, lost in thought, navigated the route to the facility exit. The rune to the market district always had a line, but the guard waved him through. Cutting the line didn’t earn him any points with the crowd, but they couldn’t like him less anyway.

The smell of various spices and processed goods assaulted Kaylath’s nose as he pushed through the horde of customers and salesmen congesting the principal thoroughfare outside the teleportation circle. The area around the military circle stayed overcrowded throughout the day, but the activity lessened as he distanced himself from it. Though unpleasant, the anonymity was a comfort compared to the silent judgment of the servicemen in the facility.

They would protest otherwise, but the complex where the imperial soldier spent his life wasn’t dissimilar to the market. With each servicing the greater empire in a symbiotic relationship. The salesmen gathered at that circle for a reason. The military mark adorned the lapel of many supply agents in the crowd. They stood apart, fattened and content amongst the weary and hungry. There was an envy in the undertone of the merchants they barter with, each badge a reminder that they weren’t selected.

The average soldier may not set foot in this area, but the military’s presence was vital to its operation. The arrogance of the average soldier blinded him to the markets’ utility, not that he would ever deny the benefits of their use if pressed by an authority. They reserved such acts of consideration as displays for their commanding officers.

Kaylath progressed down the long main road until the stalls thinned out. He’d been told stories of shaman groups in the outer districts, and this market district was on the empire's border. The housing was ramshackle, and the people weary and ragged. It was a stark contrast to the vibrance of the market surrounding the circle. Their hungry eyes appraised Kaylath, looking for a ripe fruit to pick, but he wore the plain clothes of a trainee with no medal or arms to fence. He’d earned nothing worth stealing.

A man leaned against a building with an open door and laughter passing through it. On approach, the man glanced at Kaylath, eyes sharpening despite his drunkenness.

“Could you point me towards a healer? My sister is ill, and we can’t afford the empire’s medicines.” Said Kaylath, hoping his lie wasn’t obvious.

“You not from here, boy?”

“No, sir. We’re from district 1851. Our group arrived this morning.”

“So that was what they brought in. We don’t need more of you refugees. There isn’t any more protection in 1852 than 1851.”

“I’m not here to stay. I need a healer for my sister. She couldn’t leave.”

“She got the yellow?” Said the man, leaning away from Kaylath.

Kaylath shook his head. “Something from the cold. Never went away.”

The man took a deep breath, standing silent for a moment. When he looked back at Kaylath, he wore a softer expression—the slightest hint of concern in his tired eyes. “There's a man on the northern edge of town. It’s a building with four chimneys…. He doesn’t work for free.”

“Thank you!” said Kaylath, making a show of rummaging through his pockets.

The man shook his head. “I don’t need your money, kid. Take care of your sister.”

Kaylath nodded before running towards the northern border. The lie was harmless, but his body seemed to disagree on principle. He’d never excelled during covert training, and it was likely that man’s inebriation that covered the lie. The spaces between blocks widened as he neared the edge. The influx of sunlight illuminated the muddy streets and patchwork housing complexes. There may have been a family or two every few buildings, but most were vacant. Only the desperate lived at the edge of town.

Tendrils of smoke extending above the buildings appeared in the distance. A flight of fancy gripped Kaylath as he envisioned himself finally advancing past the first mark. Finally, able to show his father his strength. Finally getting to fight alongside his sister like they used to. He picked up his pace, tearing into the mud as he ran. He rounded a corner, and the red building came into view. It stood at least 50 feet from the rest of town, with the muddy street transitioning to harder ground sparsely populated with thin vegetation. It was of better construction than the buildings nearby, but it wasn’t somewhere he’d pick to spend the night.

Kaylath was passing the last alley before the clearing when he felt a pair of hands grab his jacket and pull him into the dark. As the attacker threw him onto his back, he grabbed at a dagger in his boot. The hands seized his arms before he could reach the handle and flipped him on his stomach. He struggled against the attacker, but they must’ve been a higher mark, it was like trying to push down a building.

“You trust the first stranger you meet, boy?”

Kaylath didn’t respond. He silently cursed himself for his stupidity. He thought he’d read the man from the bar correctly, but his gut was never right. Why did he trust it this time?

“You're not much of a liar. Thought you military types valued that.”

“You knew I was from the facility?”

The man laughed. “There’s not a single person who didn’t know. Riding by wagon and there’s not a spot on you. Your clothes, your skin, your hair. All clean as a baby.”

“What do you want?” Said Kaylath through clenched teeth, half of his head pressed into the mud.

“I want an honest answer to my question.”

Kaylath felt the man take his dagger before unpinning him. He scrambled to his feet. The only way out was through the man, who was no longer the slight figure that leaned against the building before. The man stood a clear foot taller than Kaylath, with a muscular build beyond your typical laborer. “Who are you?”

“The man you want to talk to is a friend of mine. Who are you?”

Kaylath considered lying again, but it didn’t work the first time, and he wouldn’t suddenly improve. “I need help advancing past first mark.”

“Something must be wrong with you if the military can’t fix you.”

“They couldn’t figure it out.”

The man thought for a moment, thoroughly evaluating Kaylath with hawkish eyes. His expression softened, and he tossed Kaylath’s dagger back to him. “Come on.”

Kaylath followed the man out of the alley. They continued in the direction of the four chimney building.

“You trust me?” Said Kaylath from behind the man.

“I don’t need to trust you to know you're a first mark, and I don’t have to worry about a first mark causing problems.”

As they approached the building, Kaylath heard the clanging and hissing of a workshop. That would explain the chimneys, but he couldn’t see how a crafter could help his magic. The man opened the door, amplifying the sounds and exposing the workshop. Following the man inside, Kaylath saw that the building was one room filled with piles of weapons and armor in various stages of assembly. Apart from the path they walked, the only empty spaces were around the forges and other unfamiliar machines. A metallic smell hung in the air alongside a thin smog that flooded through the open door. The only light came from the fires of the forges. They cast a shadow on the wall of a figure across the room, hammering away at a slab of metal on a rod.

A sword near Kaylath’s feet caught his attention. It was an imperial saber in an ornate styling seen among officers. Like most in the piles, the blade was chipped and rusted. These weapons wore the marks of battle, but battles long ago. They also bore the same maker's mark, a heart with a keyhole in its center.

Kaylath’s heartbeat quickened. This must be the largest collection of Heartbound weapons he’d ever heard of! The only one he’d ever seen in person was his father’s, which was priceless. Something the Kay family passed down for the past 100 years. The wealth in the room made Kaylath’s palms sweat as he narrowly avoided walking over a rusty ax head worth more than the combined wealth of district 1852.

“Come here, boy.” Said the forger.

Kaylath walked behind the younger man to the lit forge. He now saw the forger who cast the shadow. It was an old man, withered by age. He was slight in build, with long white hair and beard. His expression remained impassive as he watched Kaylath approach with the other man.

Kaylath stepped forward, extending an arm. “Hello, my na—”

“You brought a friend,” said the forger to the other man, disregarding Kaylath.

“Some cripple I found looking for you.”

The forger glanced at Kaylath. ”What’s your name?”

“Kaylath, Sir.”

“You smell like shit, Kaylath.”

“I’ll grab some clothes.” Said the other man, walking into a small room in the corner.

The forger surveyed the room, eyes passing straight through Kaylath. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t breakthrough to the second mark, and I’ve run out of options.”

The forger continued to stare vacantly at Kaylath.

“I was told you could help me?” Said Kaylath.

“Poretan said that?”

“I asked for help, and that other guy brought me here.”

The forger nodded, fixing his gaze on the piles of weapons. “Did you like that sword?”

“Not really my style, sir. Did you make these?”

“I did,” said the forger, looking back to Kaylath. “You’re familiar with my work?”

“Of course! The Heartbound Smith is a legend in the Facility! My family has passed down one of your swords since the second coming.”

“Second coming. Must’ve been one of my last works.” Said the old man, eyes far away.

“I can get father to bring it here. I’m sure he would love to meet you!” Said Kaylath, humming with excitement.

The forger shot out of his seat, grabbing Kaylath’s head in both hands. “They cannot know!”

The forger’s eyes were wild, shaking as he held Kaylath. He heard the man’s panicked breaths, thankful he kept his mouth shut. At this distance, the man would’ve been breathing into his mouth. The frail arms were like metal beams when Kaylath tried to remove his hands from his head.

“I won’t say anything,” Said Kaylath, voice barely above a whisper.

Reason gradually returned to the old man. He released Kaylath, backing away as he realized his mistake. He sat back down, brow furrowed as he looked at the ground.

“I’m sorry, boy…. I don’t have fond memories of the imperial military.”

Kaylath stood in silence, unsure how to handle the forger’s outburst. This was the best opportunity he would get, and he wouldn’t let this stop him. The imperial military was in his blood, but he had seen firsthand how they treated abnormalities. That said, he wasn't sure why they would ostracize a talented smith. Unlike Kaylath, they were a precious commodity over which wars were fought. All magic crafters are originally healers. Their specialist magic allowed for creation through mending and crafting, making all healers potential magic smiths.

“Let's see what's going on with you.” Said the forger before turning towards the room in the corner. “Poretan! Quit hiding in there!”

Poretan emerged from the corner room carrying smithy’s robes similar to the ones the forger wore. “Didn’t want to interrupt.”

Kaylath pulled off his muddy top, folding it before placing it on the ground. He grabbed the clothes from Poretan and began unfolding the clean shirt.

“Don’t put the shirt on yet,” said the forger. “The examination will be easier this way.”

Kaylath handed the shirt back to Poretan and walked over to the forger. The partial nakedness no longer phased him after the gauntlet of specialists he faced as a child. The forger leaned forward, examining the burgundy tattoo beneath his right collarbone. After a moment, he looked up, a hint of surprise within his neutral expression. “You really are a fist mark.”

“You didn’t believe me?” Said Kaylath.

“I’ve been tricked before.” Said the forger, extending a hand. “My name is Kaeltar. Let’s get started.”