Colors, faces, and locations came bursting to life in Reial’s mind as he swept through the Sygnal’s mainline. Tenjecters gushed about the latest fashion trends and tourist sites, making bold claims that the Empyreans themselves had worn this or that, and that they had built a home here and there. None of it was true, obviously. Although he did find it entertaining when people believed their lies.

Mentions of the Courser were nonexistent in his search. He wasn’t bothered by that, if anything, he had expected it. Whoever he was, he was unlike any Strider he had ever seen before. Especially his lax approach to combat. Familiar, but distinctively different. Almost like-

Something twisted painlessly in his head, blending and erasing the words and memories that had come rushing to his aid. Why was it familiar? Was it his stance, or rather, the way he held himself? Confident, but not arrogant. Like the Striders of old.

“Perhaps he’s a veteran of sorts?” Linithesis assumed.

“I don’t know. His voice was…”

“Was what?”

Reial frowned. “Forget it.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m confusing him for someone else.”

The Pneuma hummed. “Does it have something to do with your dreams?”

Reial shook his head. “No.”

Linithesis grunted. He didn’t push for answers or try to trick Reial into giving one, he simply burned pleasantly in his mind. Besides, the notion of who the Courser could be was ridiculous.

He turned his gaze to the land below, a mingling sea of blue, green, and white. Stark pale cliffs rose up to catch them, guarding Recunda against the gulf’s crashing currents. He knew at once that these weren’t ordinary cliffs, but rather the vestigial remnants of the mountain range Vaes had decimated centuries ago.

Towns and smaller settlements skirted the edges of the cliff, defying the plummet that threatened to divide the lands. To him, it was more a tempting prospect than terrifying. I wonder how long it would take me to get from Thírion and back. The gulf was only four-hundred miles wide at its maximum, the trip wouldn’t cost him more than a bout of lightheadedness if he went by himself. Much like the earth, the open sea spurred him to move, to race atop the water’s surface like a hurricane.

But he couldn’t. He had his sister and Scorch to think of. He had to reunite them.

“Ye guys wanna tak’ a quick detour tae Tenner’s Vigil?” Kaval asked over the wind. “Sight there’s a real beaut.”

Charette shrugged. “Sure. It’ll give me a chance to stretch my legs anyhow.”

“Agreed,” Reial said. “Flying feels very…limiting.”

Wave scoffed. “To a Sure Footer who can’t catch the wind, it might.”

“Aw, juist ignore him. He gets a wee grumpy when ye don’t enjoy th' ride. He did th' same tae -”

Wave jerked forward, shoving Reial into Charette’s back, and so on. He was afraid that his sword might launch out of his sheathe and strike some innocent bystander, but it had become quickly apparent to him that weapons of fervor failed to react to outside forces. At least when they were in their scabbards. Even then they only responded to their wielders’ grip. That didn’t surprise him. A treasure so ethereal couldn’t exist in their world, it needed something real to anchor itself to their reality.

“Anyways,” Kaval continued. “It’s fine if ye don’t like flying. We’d be no different from dragons or birds if we all did.”

Wave snaked his head around and glared at him.

“Not that there’s anythin’ wrong wi’ that.” Kaval finished.

Reial exchanged a brief look with Charette and then shrugged. He didn’t much care for Wave’s weak insults, mainly because they were true. How could he be angry about something he couldn’t change? That was like trying to domestic a Nezerine by chopping off its horn. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t recall a time when he had been truly angry at someone.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

As they began their steady descent, Reial’s attention was drawn to a pristine lighthouse that stood watch by the cliffside. Its bulging curves stemmed out from the ground like a budding rose, basking in the gentle sea breeze that failed to scratch off its gold and red paint. At the top stood a diamond glass structure large enough to house a person, one table, and a couch. It was empty now, but he’d wager that anyone inside would catch a nice view of the gulf.

Next to the lighthouse sat a craggy outline of sharp white marble. It appeared as if someone had tried chiseling it away but had given up two-thirds of the way. If he had more control over the Solvaylian Arts, he would’ve blasted the mound to smithereens instead of patiently tapping away it at. But he wasn’t a Solvaylian Student, he was a Strider. Limited, yet greater, or at least that’s what he had been taught to believe.

Inherent greatness, could such a thing exist? Being related to someone who was great didn’t mean history would remember you, nor did it guarantee they would live a life full of luxury and pleasure. All he had was a name and a shattered being. There was nothing to be proud of, nothing to be happy about. He wasn’t greater than anyone because of his abilities. Millions of Striders had existed and died before him, and many of their names had never been remembered. What made him any different?

“Here we are, Tenner’s Vigil!” Kaval announced as he hopped off.

Reial watched as Charette followed suit, stretching her arms and legs as she let out a loud yawn. He wanted to join them, but his body refused to move.

The world was reduced to a muffled echo as everything continued to move.

This wasn't right. He was a Strider. A being blessed by God.

Reial shifted slightly on the saddle and threw his legs over the side.

Linithesis’s presence dimmed as a cracked lid was placed over his thought. “Troubled?”

Reial stared down at his feet. “I’m fine.”

“Reial.”

“I told you I’m fine. My thoughts just got the better of me.”

“That they did.”

They sat in silence as the wind tousled Reial’s hair. It cared not for his thoughts or feelings, only that it breathed new life into the land. Would he find his purpose along the same winds one day?

“Och! That’s so streenge, innit?”

Reial looked up from his spot and found Charette and Kaval focusing intently on the ALT’s screen. She swept the tablet around the area, catching a perfect recreation on the tablet’s surface. Hadn’t it been destroyed during the confrontation with the Courser? Then again, he wasn’t the one holding on to it at the time.

“It’s kinda like looking through the mainline on the Sygnal,” Charette commented.

“Aye, juist hazier.”

Reial dismounted Wave as the familiar pull of the earth became far too irresistible. The same soil the ancients had walked thousands of years ago. Although they weren’t capable of interacting with the Sygnal, they had instead built devices that connected through a broadband connection linked across the world. At least, that’s what Eston had theorized during his Ancient History course. The ALT was one such device that helped support his theory. Why scientists had bothered to recreate them in this day and age was beyond him. They were—for all intents and purposes—obsolete.

“What’re you doing?” Reial asked as he joined them.

“We wur juist waiting for ye so we could look at th' statue together,” Kaval said.

“Statue?”

“Aye, th’ one over thare.”

Reial cast his gaze to where Kaval was motioning to. What he had initially suspected to be nothing more than a mound of marble rock, turned out to be a masterfully chiseled statue more than twice the lighthouse’s mass.

A lone figure sat reclined against a collection of mountains, some tall enough to shield his head from the sun’s glare, others short enough for him to rest his arm on. Layers of darkening strata kissed the mountains, creating eroding peaks and plateaus that complimented the figure’s darkly dressed state. The figure's sapphire eyes beckoned him, forcing him into a nostalgic march.

Reial stopped at the foot of the great statue and tapped two fingers against his forehead. Infinite blue eyes as bottomless as the ocean. A bored expression, yet somehow simultaneously worried and restless. The tense posture, the hammers, and spears thrust into the mountainside. Vaes, The One of Many. Empyrean of Freedom and Unity.

A being divine by right of greatness. Founded by logical fact, and not holy intervention. Open-minded, accepting, troubled, and strong. Gentle like the color of his cool blue eyes.

“Tenner, huh? Isn’t he the same artist that painted the mural in Macioula?”

“Yup, th’ very same one,” Kaval confirmed. “Did ye know that he was once one of Vaes’s students?”

Charette looked at Kaval in disbelief. “Him?”

“Aye, juist cuz he was a Strider doesn’t mean he didn’t have other hobbies.”

“I’m not sure how well Striding translates into painting, Kaval,” Reial added.

“Doesn’t have tae if he had th’ passion for it.”

“Why anyone would quit being a Veil Strider is beyond me. I mean, you can walk up walls and on water, why would you want to sit down and bang on a rock?” Charette criticized.

“He probably thought it was relaxing,” Kaval explained.

“Disappointing is more like it. I can’t believe he was one of Vaes’s students.”

“Just cuz he wasn’t as talented as Ovfrail or as smart as Bermese doesn’t make him less of a Strider. You can choose to remember him how you like. A sculptor, a painter, a fighter, or a builder.”

Reial pondered Kaval’s words. If art had made Tenner happy, then what reason did they have to judge him by? Sure, he wasn’t as impressive as his fellow classmates, but it was what he did with his life that made a lasting impression. Being a Strider wasn’t who he was, rather, it was a part of what made him, him.