The mound of flesh that was once a visage of torment writhed back and forth. The dim torchlight did a poor job at illuminating this rare and solemn occurrence. The others, more feral than their forefather, stood some distance away chanting. “Mo-der, Mo-der, birk Mo-der, birk.” They clattered sticks and stomped their feet as they chanted in tempo. As the feeling of dread swept over him, he resigned himself to the fates as all else was out of his control.

The tempo hastened, and so did his heartbeat. The mass of flesh rose at its peak, and the imprint of a hand drew his eye. Staring in shock, another hand met the imprint. He cringed as the squelching began, the clawed fingers finally finding the purchase they needed. The partially translucent flesh opened, the fingers shred the flesh apart and the disfigured humanoid that emerged gave a howl as it rent the sac.

Gripped by fear, he could do nothing but stare. The chanting echoed against the cave walls in a cacophony that rattled his cage. He gripped the iron bars, transfixed. The newly birthed creature stepped off his cocoon, and the crowd erupted in shrieks. Whether they were of joy or terror, he didn't know.

This was the mother, and the father for that matter, to these creatures. It grabbed its discarded sack, tossing it to the crowd. They shrieked in delight and set upon the meat with complete abandon.

Looking back at him, the mother spoke with a masculine voice, almost human if not for the sharp resonating tones it created with its speech. “Kk-I'm so sorry little Dorian. May-k-be it k-is time for a change.”

Dorian woke with a start, flinging his bed covers off himself, he whirled. Dorian reached for his knife while looking around, but the stone chamber held no enemy, no obstacle. Nor did he have a knife.

A groan came from the other bed in the chamber. “Dorian, not again.” The area was poorly lit by a green light at the top of their room, but his eyes were already well adjusted to it. Dorian watched as his roommate sat up slowly. “Dorian, everything is fine, go back to bed.”

Dorian calmed himself by taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He climbed back into bed, covering himself he muttered, “Sorry Danny.” Dorian heard a few grumbles from the other bed, and he smiled to himself as he slipped seamlessly back to sleep.

The pulsing light that woke them every morning came so quickly that he wondered if he had fallen back to sleep at all. Getting up, Dorian moved to hit the Giastone switch the light was connected to. He touched it, but the light kept pulsing. Damn, it broke again.

“Dorian, can you just shut it off already?” Came Danny's voice, still hiding under his blankets.

“Switch broke, I've got it.” Dorian came to his bed, a stone frame with a soft mattress atop it, and climbed up. He got his feet to the edge, squatted and leaped, just barely touching the green stone. It stopped pulsing as Dorian tried to make a graceful landing. He stumbled and fell on to Danny.

“Gah!” Danny wailed as Dorian tried to straighten himself. Danny pulled the covers from his head displaying a placid face with sharp features. His stubby short hair was a dirty blonde, and his pointed chin had spots of stubble where his facial hair was beginning to grow in. His dark eyes looked at Dorian.

“Do you mind?” Danny's face was deadpan as he stared at Dorian.

“Not at all.” Dorian smiled pleasantly, “I was just so excited to greet your smiling face.” Dorian got up just in time to hear a frustrated Danny say, “ugh! Personal space Dorian, it’s a thing.”

Dorian paid him little mind as he got ready for the day, it was an important day for him and he didn't want Danny's sour mood to affect his exam. If he was being honest with himself, he tried to not to let Danny's sour mood or aggressive behaviors bother him. Danny was spoiled and selfish. He also palled around with other people that usually had the same kind of arrogant attitude. Danny wasn't so bad alone, but when he had a friend with him Dorian swiftly became the backside of every joke. Then the bad side of every threat.

Dorian suspected that he would be a dick to anyone that had to room with him, unless of course he had a female roommate. Then, by the gods, he would be an absolute gentleman if a little bit greasy. Lucky for the monastery initiates that they didn't allow the different sexes to live on the same floor. Well, lucky for the women that is.

Dorian dressed and gathered his things, unable to stop fidgeting with his bracer. Every initiate had one and didn't get it removed until they ascended. Usually after an hour or two, he'd forget about the thing completely, but it was oddly painful in the morning.

Sighing, Dorian took to cleaning up his things and taking great care in making his bed. The monks didn't take kindly to messy quarters, and if you failed room inspections, they could get creatively cruel. Once, after Dorian had emptied the garbage, he had left the cloth sack draped over the small bin, his polite way of saying, “I did what should be done, don't mess with it until after inspections.” Of course, when Danny had found out that the women’s room inspector had swapped with the men's for that week's inspection, Danny couldn't help but try to clean up his shitty looking facial hair. He tossed it into the garbage bin, without putting the sack in, and thought nothing of it.

Since it was Dorian's responsibility to clean the bins that week, he was the one punished for the impertinence to detail. If not for that one mistake, the men's side would have had a flawless score. This not only pissed off Brother Mark, but also the rest of his dormitory mates. Dorian's punishment was simple, twelve hours in the Rock.

The Rock was a chamber of sorts, you were placed in a stone chair and strapped down with Netstone , a green stone that looks a lot like Giastone, but has a way of keeping a Priorius, or a vessel, from accessing all their abilities. Unfortunately, there were enough straps to keep Dorian from doing anything with his abilities, not as though it would have mattered. Most everybody else was significantly stronger than he was, which was probably why he was so much older than most people in his classes.

When Dorian was strapped down and rendered powerless, Sister Clarissa had been the one so kind as to pull the lever. The chair spun on a platform, twisting into the wall behind. When the rotation stopped, Dorian couldn't see a thing. He could feel a small draft but couldn't hear where it came from. So, it was Dorian, and the silence, for twelve hours. It doesn't sound that bad as far as punishments went, but he would rather be whipped than be forced into that cramped dark space again. It was an awful way to spend your sixteenth birthday.

Today, thankfully, he wouldn't be dealing with anything of the like. Today, he was to be tested on his “Giansynthesis,” or species alteration proficiency. He was a vessel, double primed with fire, but had so little Gia that he simply couldn't manifest as well as the others. It’s because of this that Dorian had been forced to work more towards intricacy, and instead of raising an entire crop he could alter the growth of the crop to have more than fifteen times the yield. Today the entire class would be tested on their fine skills, something Dorian felt significantly more confident in.

Ken stood at the Door to the stone chamber like he always did, scouting out for Sister Brenda. Even though the entire structure they lived in was carved out of mountainous rock face, each room had a ring of Giastone around each doorway. It acted like a buffer of sorts, creating an ethereal wall that somehow shutoff sound and airflow. It made each room its own little world.

Something should be said for Ken, he was a good kid. A year younger than Dorian, he may have been the nicest person Dorian had ever known, which wasn't a whole lot of people. In nearly four years, Dorian hadn't made many friends. He didn't know where he spent the first twelve years of his life which made Dorian a bit of an outcast. Most initiates his age had been six to ten years old when they began, which left Dorian significantly behind in his overall education. Ken, however, was roughly in the same boat he was in, something that led to an easy sense of comradely between them.

“Kennith!” Dorian boomed, grinning as he watched the scowl grow upon Ken's face. The green tinted lighting made him look even more green. Dorian knew he was nervous.

“I told you, Ken is fine.” Ken looked at Dorian, then smiled a bit. “Kennith sounds too serious.”

“You seem to be all kinds of serious today. They put you on door watch again?”

“Nah,” Ken looked away seeming bashful, “I just volunteered. Hopefully, it'll be the last day of this class, and I won’t have to deal with them anymore. Gods, was thirteen really that bad?”

“Yeah, I suppose it was. I didn't even want to move that year.” There was a mutual quiet, as they both had spent their thirteenth year adjusting to life in the Monastery.

Changing the subject, Dorian asked, “Do anymore studying after yesterday?”

Ken nodded, pulling out three seeds. “I think the first two will have a high yield, though not as high as yours. The third seed, I think, should create a high calcium and Iodine concentration, it would be good for the empaths and telepaths.”

Dorian nodded to this, “very clever. I didn't really know you could do that.”

Ken nodded and looked away, “you must be primed for the needs, and I can use a bit of empathy towards the seeds. There's not much to go on, but I think Sister Brenda will like it.” He smiled a bit. Sister Brenda had always been exceptionally patient towards Ken, and Ken had shined for it. They had a completely opposite relationship than what Dorian had with her. He didn't know how, but he always seemed to upset her. Once, when Dorian had spoken back about a class question, to which he never received an answer to, she had slapped him. Not on the knuckles with her pointer like everyone else, she open-handed slapped him right out of his chair. She caught his nose enough that he bled like a stuck goat for nearly thirty minutes before she had sent him out of the class to launder his robes. On his way out, she expressed quite diligently that Priorius initiates are to show up to class in appropriate attire.

To put it lightly, there was something about Sister Brenda that Dorian didn't quite understand. Despite the harsh treatment, there was an odd familiarity about her. It was the way her brow furrowed, and her nose flared when she was angry. Her posture reminded him of...

“Dorian.” He could feel the scowl from behind him. Dorian turned, smiling broadly.

“Sister Brenda! How fine of a day it is.” Dorian looked to Ken as he turned, noting his hand passing through the veil of the classroom, one finger extended.

“It’s raining.” She looked at him, lips a thin line.

“Oh, is it? I'm so sorry Sister, I'm not allowed out without supervision. Hopefully something the next class will offer?” His voice raised in pitch, trying not to seem overexcited.

“We'll see if that will be a concern for you, Dorian.” She looked away from him and brightened, “Ah, initiate Kennith, how is my star pupil today? Did you have a good breakfast? You let me know if they short you, or if others” she looked back to Dorian with a scowl, “are interfering with your meals. I don't take kindly to that, not one bit. Come along now, we have a long day of testing ahead of us.”

Ken led the way into class, the air had a palpable change as Dorian made his way through the doorway. Dorian headed to his seat in the middle row, each one of the desks were placed in neat rows and grown right out of the rock. There were multiple Giastones installed into the ceiling, few of which were needed as this classroom had several windows. The other classrooms were generally dingy by comparison, the lack of natural light making it feel like a dungeon. This classroom even lacked the overt splendor of some of the others, but it was truly unique because it was one of the few that had access to the courtyard.

On first arrival to this classroom, Dorian had decided he should have a stroll outside. Before Sister Brenda appeared, Dorian decided he'd walk right through the walkway. Had his other initiates been so kind as to warn him what would happen maybe Sister Brenda wouldn't have such a poor opinion of him. The doorway, without a Sister or Brother to disarm it, would render whomever walked through it unconscious. The barrier it created from the outside was significantly thicker than the one from the hall, and rumor had it could be lethally dangerous if you got stuck in it. Dorian was lucky enough to make it through, though he had no recollection of it. He woke up in the medical ward, dragged halfway through the monastery by Sister Brenda herself. The kids in the class never let him live that down, just another reason why Dorian was desperate to move on to the next course.

The older an initiate was, the faster one would typically take to their callings, or more commonly their primes. Because of this, as not everyone shows up at the same time, Dorian had put most of his efforts into his studies, as the faster he caught up to his age, the more likely he'd be able to ascend. Those that didn't for either poor performance or for overly good performance, would be stuck in the Valley. For some reason the thought of staying in the Valley had an abhorrent feel, like a betrayal of sorts, so Dorian had worked hard. He only had to get through two more classes before his next birthday, and he'd be right on track.

“Today will be the second quarterly examination, those of you wishing to progress beyond this course must have something exceptional prepared. Since there are only three of you, we will do yours first. If you will all rise from your seats now, we can head outside. Row by row, starting with one.” Dorian stood, towering over the kids about him. Ken wasn't as tall as he was, but still stood a head taller than most everyone else, save Alyssa. Alyssa was a Kressian, Darker complexion than everyone in the class, but still liable to get sunburned if she was out too long. She was fifteen like Ken and had been desperate to move up nearly as bad as Dorian was. Ken didn't seem to worry himself overmuch in that way, something Dorian could admire about his unusually shy friend.

Sister Brenda made it to the archway and touched it. The air shimmered slightly as she stood off to one side. “Row one?” She said contemptuously while raising an eyebrow.

Row one made their way out in a uniform line. She called the next row in sequence, and when Dorian's row had finally been called, she scowled the entire time. Gods, that woman could be wretched.

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When Dorian made his way out to the courtyard, he always had to take a moment to drink in the view. The were so high up that the bottoms of the clouds couldn't be more than an oak away. Small shelves like this could be seen from the railing at the far side of the courtyard. Each one got progressively larger, until you were at ground level. At the ground floor, instead of a beautiful courtyard, stretched more than four miles of farmland, at the end of it the Priorius' Monastery. That, Dorian had heard, was a complete marvel of engineering. Everyone got to stay there one night before their ascent, it was a reward for all that walked the path.

Still, Dorian thought idly, there was nothing that could compare to the grandeur of the Valley itself. There was something daunting yet magnificent about the view of the valley. It was so broad, it made Dorian feel cowed, like how standing at the foot of a god must feel.

Dorian took his place and waited quietly, enjoying every moment of the sublime sight. Unfortunately, it all seemed to end too soon.

Standing in the middle of the grassy field, Sister Brenda spoke in a loud voice. “Each of you are to prepare three pots and present them to me in turn. The objective for this exam was to prepare three seeds that could potentially help our fellow vessels. Master Kennith, you will be first. Please, everybody you have three minutes to prepare your pots, let’s begin.”

Dorian swiftly got in line to grab some pots, most people scrambled over each other to get the choice pots. Getting frustrated, Dorian reached over a few students and grabbed six of the better pots. On the way he accidentally nudged somebody with his stomach.

“Watch where you're going Duh-rian.” Spoke the kid, and the rest of the class erupted in laughter. Dorian glared down long enough to realize he had never seen the little bastard and felt his face go flush. He grumbled about them being lucky he hadn't simply stepped on them, and left to find Ken. Seeing Ken nearby, he handed three pots over to him.

“Thanks Dorian, you didn't have to.” Ken said as he and Dorian moved to the black dirt and water buckets.

“Of course I did, you'd end up with the smallest planters again and you know it.”

Ken shrugged, “you're probably right.” Looking pensive for a moment, he said “Duh-rian is a little funny though.” Then he looked away, looking sheepish.

Dorian took mock offense, “Traitor. I'll have you know that just because I'm bigger than most, that doesn't mean I'm a dullard, a fool, or a nincompoop.”

Ken shrugged, “I guess that is a characteristic that everyone takes for granted. In every story the biggest and the strongest people always have a massive character flaw. I guess it’s just a requirement.”

Getting a little outraged, but only a little, Dorian replied, “What's wrong with that? I see nothing wrong with the big guy being the smartest or the most cunning.”

“Well, they can't be.” Ken said, apologetic. “You don't have a story that way.”

“What are you going on about?” Dorian asked, trying to keep up on the conversation while preparing.

Ken just sighed, grabbed his third pot and made his way to Sister Brenda. Dorian thought on it as he finished up and made his way back to his position.

Kens test went much as expected, he had to do a lot of explaining as to the changes he made, of which had to be tested by another vessel. “Well done, Kennith, I am recommending you to the next class. You may leave to see the head of Giasynthesis for your next assignment. Master Kennith,” She smiled broadly down at him, “you are dismissed.”

Ken bowed before her and thanked her profusely. He walked out of the courtyard, and with Ken left the only person that took the attention off Dorian from Sister Brenda. Just do it and have it done, Dorian. He reached down to get his pots, when Sister Brenda called for Alyssa.

Dorian stopped and stood to watch. Alyssa presented her pots and Sister Brenda used her own abilities to grow them. One was a corn, another was a very well-developed wheat, and the last didn't grow. Alyssa's face turned bright red in less than heartbeat. She rambled out an explanation for the first two, one with higher yield in smaller growing conditions, the second was wheat that grew faster. The third, the one that didn't grow, was supposed to be more susceptible to Vessel manipulation.

Sister Brenda took a moment, considering. “Alyssa.” She paused catching the young girl’s attention, “I find these to be sufficient. I am recommending that you see the Head of Giasynthesis for your next assignment. Dismissed.” She smiled, but not as warmly as she had at Ken. Alyssa bowed, and curtly made her way back inside.

“Master Dorian,” Sister Brenda said. “Please present your projects.”

Dorian walked up, feeling the eyes of his class upon him, and presented each seed to Sister Brenda. After she inspected them, she handed them back, and nodded for Dorian to plant them. He did so and stepped away.

“Master Dorian, could you please show me your aptitude with raw Cultivation on the first plant.”

Not thinking, Dorian knitted his brow and asked, “Wait, I thought this test was on species alteration.”

She cut him off, sighing as she said, “It is Master Dorian. Just do as I say.”

“But-,” Dorian started to say but her glare was enough to turn anyone to stone.

Dorian leaned over to the first pot, a high yielding corn stalk. He touched the soil and homed in on the seed. Like listening, he waited to feel the rhythm. When he finally though he had it right he applied pressure. In small spurts, the plant grew until it nearly broke the pot. It still wasn't fully grown, standing more than fourteen feet tall, it would have been slender if not for the incredible bulk the cobs created. If Dorian's estimations were right, it should have more than seventy cobs on it.

Sister Brenda's eyebrows lifted, which was the closest Dorian had ever been to a compliment from her. He swelled a bit with pride at the sight.

“This is impressively well done. Is there a reason you were able to grow this so much more easily than before?”

“Yes ma'am. I altered the seed to be more receptive to vessel manipulations, as well as increasing the height of it to make more room for corn production.” Dorian looked at her eyes as he spoke, not sure where else to look.

Glaring down at him she said, “Does your wheat behave in the same fashion?”

He shook his head. “Then would you please, master Dorian, display your aptitude at raw growth on your second plant?” She asked, and even though it sounded like a question, Dorian knew it wasn't a request.

He took a knee and closed his eyes. He pushed against the sensation, it was akin to balancing a book on your head while doing push ups, and seeing as Dorian could only manage three or four, he didn't feel all to confident in his results. When he pushed his limitations and opened his eyes, a four inch stalk had risen out of the planter pot. Sister Brenda's glare wilted him far worse than anything he could do to the plant, and Dorian cast his eyes away in shame.

“Nice work Duh-rian!” Someone called out from behind him. He gritted his teeth and stood, face flushed. His nose flared and his vision came in and out of focus, so scrutinized he felt he might burst. When the laughter calmed, Dorian began to speak in a quiet but menacing tone.

“The next little fu-.”

“That's quite enough, now master Dorian. Shall we see your last two projects?” Came Sister Brenda's bright tone.

The anger still on him, Dorian gave a curt nod, shaking just a bit. Sister Brenda reached her hand out, and without even touching the middle plant, it grew in to a tree of about three feet, but instead of leaves, wheat budded.

Eyebrow raised, Sister Brenda asked for an explanation. Dorian replied, taking a deep breath or two beforehand to steady himself. “I got to thinking that the amount of time it takes for someone to plant something, have it grow, then harvest it would be tiresome. With this, we just have to funnel more power in to the plants, and save the energy on re-harvesting the entire plant. Its more energy efficient for the Vessel as well as the ones responsible for harvesting the crop.”

Brenda nodded, looking somewhat pleased. “And your third wasn't required to be a crop, what did you choose for your third plant?”

“A walnut tree.” Dorian replied off offhandedly.

“And what use would that be to our fellow vessels?”

Dorian scratched the back of his head, having second thoughts as to whether or not this was a good idea. “By all means.” Dorian gestured, trying to sound smooth rather than testy.

Sister Brenda used her power and the pint-sized walnut tree grew, but instead of the green bulbs around it, there was a translucence. Sister Brenda frowned at it.

Dorian put a finger up, “Shield your eyes from the sun.” Dorian walked up and hovered over one of the walnuts, putting his hands over his brows and leaning in.

“I'm not amused, Master Dorian.”

“I think you might be, it's much cleverer than anything I've done so far. Please, Sister Brenda?”

She sighed, and leaned in to mimic what Dorian was doing. She stood up, an excited grin on her face. Dorian had never seen that expression on her, he didn't even know she could smile. And there was something about that grin, something about the way her wrinkles bunched up...

“How did you? And why?” She seemed to pull back into herself, and her cool demeanor wrapped itself around her once again. “How is this to help the Vessels?”

“Well, to be honest its more for the initiates.”

“And what would they use this for?”

Dorian gave her a frank look, “Have you been inside the deep Monastery, Ma'am?”

“Well of course I have. Young man, you are dangerously close to being stuck with me for another two years, do not deign to be so impertinent with me. Now explain to me what the initiates need this for.”

“Ya... err, uh yes Ma'am. It's my belief that the hallways are too dark and dingy, I know that we live in a mountain, but I just thought a bit of light and living plants might make the place more... uh, happy? No, uh, pleasant. More pleasant.” Dorian took a breath, too nervous now to speak. He thought it was a stroke of brilliance, and that it would appeal to Sister Brenda as he had overheard her complaining about the dreary hallways.

“For this, I will pass you, Master Dorian. However, you will not be meeting with the Head of Cultivation today.” Dorian's brow knitted in worry. “Please make yourself comfortable for the next few hours, either in the classroom or out here is fine. We will need to have a little... chat.” She shooed him away, and Dorian left to work on some of his other studies.

His other prime was in heat, and though he couldn't move the fire at all, he could make ice. For some reason, when he summoned the heat, rather than banished it, he could barely get a trickle. When others could compel a small stream, he could scarcely light a candle. He was, however, quite prodigious at pushing the heat away, even Brother Wright had a hard time at even Dorian's padded practice jacket.

So, to pass his free time, he casually made his way over to the stacks of pots, grabbed one, then proceeded to find a scenic spot by the railing. The railing was roughly four feet in height, but as Dorian grew, he worried over whether he'd one day stumble right over. Despite the danger he allowed him to get lost in the scenery.

He could swear he could see a man in the field far below. His outline was one of a man, shovel in hand and hat on his head. The strange thing was that he wasn't moving. He was just standing there in a pose, about to push his shovel in the dirt. Thinking that it was likely a scarecrow, he got his pot and proceeded to form a ball of ice in his hand.

After a few minutes of concentrating, he found he was successful in his task. He placed the sphere on top of the pot and worked off and on for the next few hours at melting it. He was marginally successful, but nowhere near where he should be at his age. It was daunting, despite his hard work in both fields he found he was skilled at the least desired task. If he ascended to “paradise” his only chore would likely be making ice for everybody's drinks.

Dorian scoffed to himself at the notions. Paradise, a word used to describe what was waiting for the ascended Vessels at the end of their weeklong trek. If he was being honest with himself, he really didn't believe it. It was likely just another Monastery, another dreary drab hole in the wall that he'd be shut in until he died. But what other options were there?

Dorian took a break from trying to melt the sphere and stared out at the view again. Though he had never noticed before, the sun moved so slowly from up high. Looking down at the digging man scarecrow, he noted that there was now a small mound of dirt next to the man. His position seemed different too, and Dorian was confused as to who would do such a thing.

Catching Dorian off guard, Sister Brenda announced her arrival with an abrupt clearing of her throat. Dorian nearly jumped over the stone railing, scared witness from the abrupt end of his reverie.

“Master Dorian, I do apologize, I didn't mean to frighten.” She smiled down at him and looked out at the valley. “It is grand, isn't it?”

“Sister Brenda?”

“The Valley. It is a sight to behold.” Dorian nodded his head and took in the view once more. Sister Brenda wasn't being her usual self, and that unnerved Dorian more than her avarice did.

After a brief period, Dorian glanced back at the rest of the class, noting their absence. Suddenly, worried Sister Brenda was going to somehow launch him over the railing, he took a subtle step backwards.

Noting his movement, Sister Brenda turned to him. Sheepishly, Dorian asked, “you wanted to speak with me, Sister?” Dorian stood, hands clasped over his wrist, feet shoulder width apart. As far as he could remember, the stance had been natural to him. It was something he'd do to feel comfortable, especially in the presence of somebody he respected. Respected as a friend, and doubly so for the strength of those he considered enemies. The latter of the two reasons was why he took that stance now.

“Yes, Dorian, I'm going to have a little chat with you about Gia.”

Dorian quirked an eyebrow at the statement, then said, “but Sister, I already know about Gia.”

A small grin quirked the corner of Sister Brenda's lips. “Please, do tell. I wish to know your knowledge base before we begin our discussion.”

“Well, according to the old texts, it’s the force of Metae and Gwendos become manifest. It's the pivotal force used by Priorius and Vessels to alter the world around us. It's part of what makes us blessed.”

Sister Brenda waited a moment longer before taking a deep breath. “Gia is just as you say, but theology aside, it’s the well that we all draw upon for power.”

This made sense to Dorian, so instead of his usual flippant behavior, he kept his mouth shut and listened. “I think, Master Dorian, that you have a problem with how you draw upon Gia.” She waited another moment, expecting Dorian to interject, but when he didn’t, she continued. “Most of us use the Gia that's around us, which is why it's so challenging to use our abilities inside. Inside the mountain, there is very little residual Gia. This is intentional, as it supplies our lights, our plumbing, and an entire slew of other amenities I don't have time to get into. Inability to use your gifts well inside isn't uncommon, most often you must draw upon your own Gia to accomplish anything worthwhile. It can be draining, even hazardous under the right conditions.”

Dorian took a moment to digest all of this. While he did so, Sister Brenda kept going.

“I cannot teach your class anymore, Dorian. However, with the approval of our department head, I have been allowed two hours with you twice a week, to find a solution to your problem.”

Brows furrowed, Dorian asked, “and what exactly do you think that is, Sister?”

She cleared her throat for a bit, likely looking for the right words. “Most initiates upon coming into one of these courtyards will absorb a touch of the Gia and will use almost none of their own when they use their abilities. You, however, do not. You don't do either, Dorian, that will be a very serious challenge if you ever wish to ascend.”

Stunned by the statement, and suddenly worried at what was portended, he asked, “but why?”

He got an eyebrow instead of a reply. “Why help me, I'm not your star student, and pardon me saying it, but I'm constantly terrified I'll piss you off.”

For a moment her eyes widened, then she burst into laughter. It was real laughter too, nothing haughty, there were even a few unladylike snorts in there.

“We'll be working on etiquette too,” she said, laughter still bubbling through. “Oh, young man. You remind me of another young man I knew many years ago.” She smiled as she quieted down, suddenly somber.

Dorian glanced away as she grew suddenly serious. That's when he noticed the scarecrow far below, it had moved again. His new pose was of somebody drinking water from a flask, the shovel now stuck in the dirt next to him. Dorian knitted his brows at the oddity.

Sister Brenda glanced down, following Dorian's gaze. Squinting, she looked closer. “You can see him?”

“Well, barely. I can make out the shovel and the shape of his hat but not too much else.”

“You've got excellent eyesight, I'm envious. If I didn't know Patrice was weeding the fields today, I wouldn't even know what that dark smudge was.”

“Patrice? That's a real person down there?” Looking concerned she nodded. “Why is he striking poses then, I thought he was a scarecrow.”

A knowing look passed over her face. “Ah, that would be the distortion field.”

“The what-a-whatta?” When Sister Brenda scowled, Dorian rephrased, “I'm afraid I don't know what a distortion field is, Sister Brenda.”

She took a moment, then nodded. “Much better Dorian. The distortion field is the visible difference in our time barrier. Before you ask about that I'll make it simple. In the Deep Monastery, the Grand Elder has cast a field around the whole of the mountain to speed the time initiates take in training. The incredible part is that there isn't a counterpoint, nor any bleeding at the edges of the barrier, both things that should exist. There's never been quite the master of the divine arts as he.” She spoke with a little bit of awe in her voice.

Though Dorian had never met the man, he had heard astonishing things about him. Oddly, Dorian became very uncomfortable every time the old man was mentioned. He didn't understand why.

“To answer your other question, Dorian.” Dorian raised a brow, then he remembers. “Yes, Sister Brenda. I was inquiring as to why you'd be willing to go out of your way to help me. I don't believe I've been the best of students, and I know in some areas of study I've been... lackluster.”

She nodded, and grinned that familiar grin, “Let’s just say, I have a penchant for Kressian dumplings.”