Syl hadn’t actually expected Uriel to come to his address. It was pretty apparent that she was growing more curious about who he actually was. As a member of a prismatic family, it was entirely possible that she’d gained access to intelligence on him far beyond what an ordinary student or even administrator should have been able to see. While it was true that most of his information was hidden behind several layers of security, he knew better than anyone else that there was no such thing as a perfect secret.

Then again, he supposed that he could probably assume she hadn’t seen anything. Finding even one or two of his least classified documents might have led her to give that initial offer, but equally likely was her showing up unannounced with a tac squad. It definitely wouldn’t have seen her accepting an offer to come over to talk.

Uriel arrived in an armored hovercraft, which was possibly one of the least efficient ways to move around. When inter-Auria mass transit was so ubiquitous, using one of the most fuel-consuming and expensive to maintain vehicles was a status symbol as much as it was a practicality. Only a prismatic would have such a flux-expensive vehicle, and only a prismatic would need one.

This one didn’t come with the standard suite of security officers that Syl would have expected it to, but then again this was supposed to be a clandestine meeting. Besides, Uriel was a master-class magician. For someone of her level, it was rare that security provided any purpose beyond delaying an enemy magician. Syl decided to take it as a good sign that she hadn’t brought any.

The Reserve Major Uriel Indigo could’ve been mistaken for any other talented woman of her age today. Her hair and eyes identified her as a prismatic, but there were those who were only tangentially related to the great clans with similar physical features, and besides, Uriel’s was cut to a practically short length and covered under a wide-brim hat. The rest of her wear was casual enough to be clearly civilian while still giving her some air of dignity. If Syl didn’t know better, he would’ve placed her as a researcher on a work holiday.

“Uriel,” he greeted her out front. “I’d say it’s a pleasure, but I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

“I understand that,” she said politely. “I wouldn’t have interrupted you if it weren’t important.”

For you, maybe, he thought. Uriel was as composed as ever, but Syl had identified her tells a while ago. The way she idly rubbed a thumb over a spot on her wrist that he knew contained a concealed FCD, the slight twitch when she blinked, a number of other microscopic changes in flux that no normal magician would’ve caught—they were clear as day to him.

“Come inside, then,” he said, opening the door wider with a gesture.

“You’re not alone,” Uriel said.

“I assure you, Bianca’s not a problem,” Syl said.

Judging from the moment of chagrin on Uriel’s expression, she was.

“Let me guess,” Syl said. “A document carrying a few names telling you that there were, I don’t know… secret connections to prismatics? Maybe some other explanation? At least some level of understanding that there are prodigies to watch out for.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised that you know that,” Uriel sighed, shaking her head, “but I am anyway. You seem to know everything, which is suspect as it is.”

“You should already know by now that we are slightly more than we seem,” Syl said. “As a member of the Reserve leadership—hell, a prismatic, especially, surely you’ve been notified.”

Uriel shook her head. “That’s part of what I had wished to speak to you about.”

That did actually surprise him. Thanks to his special contacts, he knew that the Reserve was aware of Bianca’s presence, though not the details of who she was. Were the higher-ups who actually ran the academy segmenting what information went to who?

“Then you can speak to both of us,” Syl said. “You already know that we live together. Even if she doesn’t hear you, I would tell her about our conversation anyway.”

“Two can keep a secret if one is dead,” Uriel said, grimacing. “As you say, then. If you don’t mind.”

Syl nodded, letting her follow him into the house.

“Uriel,” Bianca greeted her senior in similar practical casual wear, having been warned by Syl about her arrival. “Please, have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“If you don’t mind,” the Reserve Major said. “So. Syl.”

“That’s me.”

“You were the one who killed the Cascadians, am I correct?”

Bianca looked at Syl, a warning in her eyes as she passed a steaming hot mug to Uriel.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Uriel said. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“I did tell you that I was confident in my abilities on the battlefield,” Syl said.

“Not so much as to kill three innate water casters in their native environment,” Uriel said. “Much less so from an ambush.”

“You were ambushed,” Syl said. “I was not. Cascadian magicians are also best in running water, which this wasn’t.”

“Three tactical-class magician and a master-class specialist are dead,” Uriel said neutrally, careful not to let her voice reveal emotion. “On your practical exams, your scores placed you at D-class.”

“They did,” Syl said. “I am uniquely unsuited for certain aspects of the practical.”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“You are still evading my central point,” Uriel pointed out. “You are stronger than you appear to be. Though you might have an explanation for everything, that remains true. You are also significantly more knowledgable about the state of the world than the average Aurian is.”

“I’ve been around,” Syl said.

His non-answers weren’t obtuse just to be annoying. Just like he’d done with James Rokho, he wanted to scope out what exactly Uriel was getting at.

It was becoming increasingly apparent that the policies that the Aurian government used to keep order were fostering dissent amongst their best and brightest—but since nothing had broken yet and it had so far seemed isolated, Syl had not considered it cause for concern.

Now that he was at the academy, though… that was a different story. Syl hadn’t spoken to the newest generation of prismatics much if at all, mostly because they hadn’t been near his level during the time he’d been most active. Here, he was seeing a generational difference in action. Those who had been fighting since before the war kept the peace at any cost, even knowing how false the pretenses they were protecting were.

This generation of Reserve, though, was just young enough to not have reached magical viability during World War III. They wouldn’t have been drafted, and they’d grown up in its aftermath as the first generation to be subject to this kind of Aurian information control. The cracks were starting to show, and that meant people were going to be taking sides.

Syl would have preferred a different situation, to put it lightly. It seemed that Uriel was trying to scope out which side he wanted to take, so he was doing the same.

“You’re being deliberately obtuse,” Uriel ventured.

“I’m being reasonable,” Syl countered. “Communication calls for caution.”

“Is that why you keep lying about your capabilities?” Uriel asked.

“I haven’t been,” Syl said, shrugging. “And you still haven’t gotten to the point as to why you’re here.”

In fairness to Uriel, she was probably running the same song and dance in her head. Both sides were withholding information, and both sides knew they were doing so but couldn’t tell what was safe to share.

“You were aware that those were Cascadian magicians,” Uriel said.

“It would have been hard not to,” Bianca said, sitting down with a coffee of her own. “For anyone who’s seen a Cascadian, at least.”

“Which is a vanishingly small number of living Aurians,” Uriel said.

“I was a klick from San Francisco when it blew,” Bianca fired back. “We were in the area for a competition at the time.”

True on all counts, though still lacking a critical amount of detail.

Uriel leaned forward. This was evidently new information to her, which meant that if she had information on the two of them, it was surface level. Syl and Bianca’s involvement in the San Francisco Bay incident was classified, but it wasn’t exactly top-secret either. That classification went towards a number of his other aspects.

“You were in SF?” she asked. “You saw what happened, then? The… reactor?”

Syl gave Bianca a dead-eyed look. “The Cascadians, yes.”

Uriel sighed. “We don’t even have a reactor there.”

Well, there was no reactor there that Auria was aware of, so that was as true as Uriel knew.

“I am curious, though,” Uriel said. “I’ve read reports at varying levels of declassification, and the differences in the stories they tell are vast. Could you describe what happened?”

They were slowly poking at each other’s boundaries now, which was the exact kind of situation Syl had hoped to avoid.

“We are bound by a number of laws to not reveal that, which you surely already know as an officer of the Reserve,” Bianca said. “If you wish to violate statutes, you should make your point.”

Syl winced. Bianca was an element that he could never account for—one of his few blind spots, even with how much time he’d spent with her. Despite being a lady of literal royal manner, she had a tendency to be inflammatory in a way that had gotten her cut out of succession. This wasn’t unsalvageable, but he found himself running through his quick-cast spells just in case. He’d prepared, of course, but a master-class magician was never to be trifled with.

“That’s… fair,” Uriel said, dropping the composed facade. She took a deep breath, clearly steeling herself for something.

Hm. Syl supposed his assessment of people had never been his strongest suit. He could guess how they acted under mortal danger, but Bianca had always been better suited towards dealing with people.

He did, however, have a general understanding of social engineering as well as a passable knowledge of interpersonal relationships. It was trivial to take this as confirmation that Rokho was not in with the rest of the leadership. Secrets tended not to hold well, and if he’d had an organization that matched his thoughts instead of a scant handful of people in his training center run by self-secluding religious extremists, everyone there would have at least gained the knowledge that Syl was aware of as much as Uriel.

The fact that she was probing as much as she would and this unsure of herself pointed towards one of her or Rokho working on their own. Given the latter’s general disenchantment with the Reserve, Syl suspected that the latter was more likely. Granted, he had no way to tell whether or not Uriel was on her own here, but he suspected she wouldn’t have been confident enough to come into the residence of someone she suspected was stronger than her without anyone backing her up.

Uriel visibly steeled herself, huffing outwardly before standing up. “What we saw in the Gate was not an isolated incident.”

Syl was a bit disappointed that this was what she was working herself up towards, but it didn’t seem like that was all she had to say.

“That’s obvious to anyone who can think past the orders,” Syl said. “The standing status quo is that we and the military proper will deal with what comes next. It’s been that way for a long time.”

“What comes next isn’t going to be something we just deal with,” Uriel said, seizing on that word and blazing on with an unsteady fire. “This was a test, and we only passed because we got lucky with who happened to be in the Gate at the time. When Cascadia comes calling for real, it will not be three of them accompanying four patsies. It will be from the seas, from our rivers, from the skies above, and we will fall.”

“Alarmist speech,” Syl said. “I believe that’s what this would be classified as. It’s a misdemeanor, no?”

“It is obvious to anyone with a functional brain, which I know you possess,” Uriel said.

“It is,” Syl said. “I don’t think you’ve made a point that requires me to be here yet.”

“You’re powerful,” Uriel said. “Don’t even try denying that, because whatever the tests you failed for Auria say, I know what I sensed. You clearly have a reason to operate on your own, and when push comes to shove, I’d rather have you on our side than not.”

And here was the real pitch. Our, she said. That was as good as a confirmation that there was some level of organization to… an anti-government organization? Syl wasn’t sure on the details. His special unit could have investigated, but they weren’t particularly interested in the activities of others that had a similar goal as theirs.

“Our,” Bianca repeated. “That’s revolutionary talk.”

“No,” Uriel said. “It’s realist. When the storm comes, and it will, I don’t intend on being blown away.”

“Very vague,” Bianca criticized. “Do you have the slightest plan for what you’ll do if Cascadia does invade?’

“Do you think I would explain anything I have to two people who didn’t know of its existence until just now?”

I didn’t need to, Syl thought.

This was a bad sign, and not the first one in recent memory. That was… cause for concern, at the very least.

“For the time being, all I want to do is let you know the door is open,” Uriel said. “And… one more thing. Syl.”

“Yes?”

“I want you to compete in the only important circuit tournament.”

“That seems unnecessary,” Bianca said. “That’s always just been for show.”

Uriel shook her head. “Your information is good, but it’s out of date. I want you to compete against Cascadia.”