“Though there're many things I’m thankful aren’t carried over across timelines, there are some that I’d give anything to retain.”

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Raina and Jair were less than an hour into their new evening regimen of enhanced exercise and sparring when someone tip-tapped on the door.

If they hadn't been between rounds, taking a breather, she might not have even heard it. More as though someone were poking the door with a stick, than proper knocking.

"You expecting anyone?" she asked, looking up.

Jair shook his head.

Raina opened the door slowly, sword still in hand. Then she laughed and relaxed, sheathing her weapon and opening the door fully. "Denor? What brings you over?"

"Heard Jair might be interested in sparring practice. We'll be starting in a few minutes over at the dome. Wanted to invite him. And you, of course. You're always welcome."

"I wouldn't mind getting out of the house a bit. It'd feel a bit less besieged out there with a larger group." She turned to Jair. "You interested?"

"Not today. You go ahead." He was currently on his back in the middle of the floor, elevated by his elbows and feet, which she knew from trying was a lot harder to sustain than it looked like it should be. "I need to build foundations first. Next week, I'll gladly join."

Denor smiled. "Good, I could use the time to build my lead. You coming, Rai?"

One glance at Jair reminded her that he could take care of himself now, properly and fully. She didn't need to hover about to safeguard him. "Alright. I could use some practice myself."

The predicted storm had begun by now, darkening the evening to premature night. The glowshrubs were in full effect, illuminating the pathways with their magical tunnel of calm amid the tearing wind and biting sand.

"No shortcuts for us tonight," Raina joked.

Denor laughed along. "Not now."

They left the student village by the northern path, the one that curved around the admin buildings before cutting down to the central dome.

"So," Denor said without preamble. "Jair."

"What about him?"

"He's... different."

"Is he? I hadn't noticed. Looks the same as usual. Could still use a shower."

Denor laughed. "And here I thought he kept his hair like that intentionally."

"You kidding? Jair? He's the least concerned with his looks of anyone I've ever met. If anything, I have to keep telling him not to wear peasant clothing to an event."

"But, seriously, Rai. What's going on with him?"

"He got his class, his soulsword. Decided it was time to start training seriously. What's there to tell?"

Denor scoffed. "I've seen a lot of people initiated, and what he's doing is nothing like normal."

"I mean, I've always known he had greater potential than what he was willing to display...?" Raina hesitated, though, unsure how much she wanted to discuss this. "Why all the curiosity about him?"

Denor scoffed. "Did you not see him fight in the arena yesterday? We don't get that kind of talent in a century, certainly not coming out of nowhere without warning. Kael Falkon was tearing through duels like he had a personal grudge against the ranking system long before he was recognized as the genius he is, and even he never came close to... that."

"Professional curiosity, is it?"

"You could say that." He pushed open the glass door to the dome's back section, containing the athletic fields and tracks.

A combination of hedges and hanging greenery formed a backdrop and divider between this section and the others, strings of manalights providing near-daylight illumination. The crisp scent of growing things and the cool air of the dome enveloped Raina in calm, wholly unlike the raging chaos of the storm outside.

She let out a slow breath, relaxing at the sight of only a handful of people waiting for them. "I've got a lot of work to do if I want to keep up, then."

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After Raina left, Jair finished his current set of warmups and left by the back door. He followed the paths south until he neared the student recreation halls and the voices from within grew loud enough to hear over the shrieking wind.

He stepped out of the shielded air of the paths and into the storm, arms crossed in front of his face. It didn't block the wind, but kept the violent airborne sand from tearing into his body.

The angles to hold his sand-shapers to build himself a protected space came as naturally as breathing, a gentle push as he held back most of his magical strength from flooding through them. His manabody was still heavily depleted from their antics earlier, but a little overdraw wouldn't kill him.

He walked steadily through the shifting winds and reached the outer wall a minute later, forming a solid barrier to shield him on that side. He switched to only a single arm to hold up the shield protecting him from the whipping sand and felt along the wall with the other hand.

The existing wards were buried deep into the wall, built in when the academy was constructed. They were all linked to the Astralla mana grid, consuming as much power as the nearby city. Not surprising, between keeping the dome regulated and the magical plants healthy, maintaining sufficient atmospheric mana for students, and powering everything from the library tower transit platforms to staff housing.

He found the telltale cracks that formed as the stone shifted over the generations, leaving the metal skeleton of the wards ever so slightly exposed. You had to know what you were looking for, and carve in just the right place, but Jair had done it so many times by now it was practically reflexive.

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The carving of new ward additions would be a time-consuming process, one he couldn't finish in a night. Jair set aside any thought of the time involved and lost himself in the rhythm of the work. Working one-handed while he held back the storm with the other, he found a kind of peace. Here, he knew exactly what to expect. He made concrete progress toward a known goal. All it took was time and effort.

Unlike everything else.

Despite the expanded opportunities, the restrictions of his social position and the incapability of his younger body grated on him.

He had a thousand things to do, hundreds of new options, and nowhere near enough time to capitalize on them.

He'd searched for novelty in the endless repetitions for so long, he was caught off guard by how uncomfortable it was now that he had it. In the past two days, he'd made missteps. He'd taken actions that weren't close to optimal, caught up in the moment.

He loved it.

He hated it.

He wanted to run into the uncertainty and let it consume him until every trace of dull repetition was burned away.

He wanted to retreat into the known and predictable, wanted to be back in a straightforward war where all he had to do was survive and eliminate the enemy. The political games of Veori nobility never appealed to him, and to be back here after being gone for so long... especially being treated as an ignorant child...

He couldn't wait to be away from here. Hopefully forever. He wanted nothing more than to leave Veori bickering behind. Get back to what he was good at, just not alone.

There was still plenty of world to be explored, plenty of moon to be conquered. Places he'd visited but not truly learned. Even in the Oriad he knew so well, there were areas that could catch him by surprise if he wasn't careful.

He much preferred that edge of real, tangible danger to the whispered threat of political ruin or tedium of financial negotiation.

Later, he promised himself. Not yet. There was still something important here.

He'd given up once before, running away to the future in search of a key to the impossible. However frustrating it may be to stay at Astralla Institute a minute longer than necessary, he refused to accept defeat this time.

He wouldn't be running away again.

That determination burned low within him, perpetual and unshakeable. He'd dedicated too much to reaching this point. He would make it work.

But in quiet moments like this, all his doubts came back. All the weight of failure after failure after failure.

They’d done so much, set up so many things that could pay off in future months or years, but how much of it could directly contribute to the immediate crisis?

If he’d been able to get the Veshin armor made, it would be another story, but he’d overreached. That, more than anything, disheartened him. The biggest potential change, tantalizingly close, but locked behind something as banal as money. By now it was too late, even if he got the money together they wouldn’t be able to build it soon enough.

The core difficulties to success remained unchanged. He needed to control the positioning, which could be managed with the changes to the school wards, as long as Raina cooperated. He needed striking power, which Maelstrom might suffice for, though he had yet to verify. But most of all, he needed holding power, the ability to ensure Raina’s survival in the critical minutes after contact. And for that, he was no closer to a solution than any other time.

Part of him didn't believe it could be done. Destiny itself decreed Raina would die, not merely the will of an angry dragon. Trying to force his will on the situation would be ultimately futile.

Was it worth it to keep fighting? An alien battlefield, a new unknown war.

His arm ached from holding up the shield, his hand cramped from the pressure of carving line after line. He barely felt it, moving mechanically down the wall as he formed perfect section after perfect section.

He wouldn't give up, not when he was so close. He'd finally found a way to change things. Everything was different.

It would be enough. It had to be.

But he was still only one man. He still had only three days. A lot could change in three days. But only so much.

The storm began to slow, the winds dying down, the sand settling. Instead of swirling darkness being all that was visible, he could once again see the black stone of the pathways, the purple and brown illumination from the glowshrubs, the brilliant white of the dome towering over the center of the Institute.

It would be after midnight by now, if the storm was over. He'd covered about a fifth of the wards he planned to add. Shaking his hands out, he disconnected the construct and leaned back to stretch. His arm throbbed where the construct had been connected. His manabody burned; he'd been in overdraw for hours to sustain the shield that long.

Dizzied, he leaned against the wall, breathing hard to not collapse. The strength of certainty that drove him this far had deserted him, leaving him weary and depleted.

Logically, he knew it was the combination of exhaustion, overdraw, and uncertainty, but it was hard to convince himself to continue the familiar patterns.

Things were different now. Denor had never come to invite them to train in the past. Calisi never harassed him this early in the timeline. He had options to pursue. Plenty of them.

But the time pressing in on him, the deadline swooping down toward them with its claws extended, it was easy to lose track of that. This could be any number of doomed timelines, his changes and hopes nothing but a fleeting delusion.

"Soulblade, manifest."

Maelstrom flared into life. He held it up in front of his face, staring deep into its silver glow as he gradually got himself back under control. This time was different. Really, truly different. Not just in optimistic stories he tried to convince himself of. Unknowns he couldn't possibly predict.

"Jair?"

He spun, blinking away the brightness, Maelstrom falling into a ready stance.

Raina, running across the sand.

He tapped two fingers to his forehead and dismissed his soulsword. Maelstrom vanished, leaving a dazzling afterglow for a moment before fading.

"It's the middle of the night, what are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I didn't see you when I got back, and then I saw the flash of light. You're not sleepwalking or something, are you?"

"Might as well be."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Jair exhaled and shook his head. An ache steadily built behind his eyes which no amount of rubbing would alleviate. "I think I've messed up already, but I need more information." He raised a hand to forestall her further questions, as her mouth opened immediately. "I can't tell you anything now."

"You look terrible."

"I know." And that was with residual healing magic lingering around to make things better than usual. He rolled his head from side to side, neck mildly cramped from being so intently focused for hours. "I'll rest for a while before doing anything else."

"Thank you." Raina gave a half mocking laugh. "Never thought I'd see the day I needed to encourage you to be less physically active."

"You have no idea how many days you never thought you'd see." And I want to show you all of them. He ran his eyes over her face, the curious tilt to her head, the concern bunching her brow and intensity of her bright gold eyes. He couldn't fix her in his mind, the image always paled in comparison to the reality, yet for so long it was all he had. "Let's get back."

Despite his confident words, sleep eluded him. Jair lay awake, Maelstrom resting on his chest to ground him to the moment. He couldn’t stop thinking, desperately extrapolating in a thousand directions, trying to envision any path that didn’t end in disaster.

If there was one available, he didn’t see it yet. No plan survives contact with reality, and the promises he’d made to Raina a few loops ago felt emptier than ever.

He’d need to come up with a more immediate solution to the money problem, sooner rather than later. It may be too late to use during this loop, but if he found a successful funding option he could use it earlier next time around.

When he finally did find sleep, his rest was far from peaceful.

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