"Someone's coming," Glim said from the vent above Elend's bed.

He cracked his eyes open, craning his neck to look up at the ceiling. "Who?"

"That hot cultist lady. She brought two guards. And a pot of coffee."

Ah, the Ethersmith. It must be time for Elend's first appointment. He unwrapped his legs from the lotus position and stood, gathering mana in his palms. "How far?"

Glim vanished and reappeared in the blink of an eye. "Twenty-three paces."

Perfect. Elend released both Missiles, weaving pure mana with dream mana to make a wooden cafe-style table near the window. Yes, he had a window now. It stretched all the way from the floor to the ceiling, overlooking a lovely mountain range that resembled northern Espiria.

No sooner had he sat down than someone knocked on the cell's metal door.

"Come in," Elend said.

The door opened a second later, and Lena Cavaco appeared at the cell's threshold. She looked the same as their last meeting, with her black hair falling in a dozen braids past her shoulders. Her dress was a deep sapphire today—a dramatic contrast to her olive skin.

Lena's eyes widened as she stepped into the window's bright light. Snowflakes clung to its glass surface, and the whole cell seemed to shake in the mountain wind. Behind her, the Fangs cycled their mana, shifting their feet into subtle combat stances. What did they think? That he'd use that imaginary window to escape?

"Please." Elend gestured to the wooden chair across from him. "Have a seat."

Lena glanced down at the table and chairs. "Are these real, Espirian?"

"Well," Elend said, "there's a complicated question."

The table was made of atoms like any other. Despite that, most people would still call it fake. But why? Did the material matter? Anyone could turn a wooden table into kindling and revoke its tablehood. All that mattered was the idea—the way they perceived its function.

Elend almost opened his mouth and said all this. Clearly, he'd been away from his classroom for too long.

"It's real," he said with a grin. "But it's also made of mana."

Lena smoothed her skirt and sat across from him. She waved over the guard who carried a stainless steel tray with a matching carafe and two clear glasses. "I brought us some coffee. But perhaps you could have made your own?"

His smile widened as he shook his head. "I've never had a knack for the culinary arts." There was also the fact that dream food gave no nutritional value, even for one who went through the trouble of studying it.

Lena nodded as the Fang poured them each a cup. The lad had relaxed by this point, but he still kept eying that window with a mix of awe and suspicion.

Elend raised his glass to his mouth, inhaling faint hints of melon and chocolate.

"Thank you, Ondrico," Lena said with a pleasant smile. "Wait for me outside, would you?"

Both guards complied without argument. Curious. Where did this woman fit into their hierarchy? Elend stretched out his perception, sensing her soul. She had Etherite inside her chest—the same material that made up his cuffs. But beneath that, he felt a Mana Artist's soul. An Apprentice soul to be exact—barely stronger than Relia's. Normally, that would place her at the bottom with the Claws. And yet, she'd spoken casually with the Dragonlord's own siblings.

Once they'd locked the door behind them, the cultist turned her gaze back to Elend. "May I see one of the cuffs?"

Elend stretched out his left arm on the table between them. He'd kept these invisible for most of their trip, but that was pointless now. Keeping Glim around was a far better use of his mana. Not to mention the view and the fake window. Studies showed that nature improved mood and cognition.

Lena cupped his hand in hers. Her touch was warm, but that was hardly a surprise. Dragons didn't believe in air conditioning, and it was easily eighty degrees in here.

Her mana remained still as she worked, but that fit with the stories he'd read. Etherite pulled energy from the spiritual realm, the same way a Mana Artist did. No physical force could break it. The more force you exerted against these crystals, the more energy they would summon to push back.

For all that, an Ethersmith could reshape it through nothing but raw intention.

"I need to bond with these crystals," Lena told him. "This process will take weeks, even if we practice every day."

"Does this bonding require your full concentration?" Elend asked.

"It's a bit like rearranging grains of rice," she replied. "Laborious, but not difficult. But I will need your help. Intention matters, and possession is a physical manifestation of that."

"Interesting," Elend mused. "So the cuffs are on my body now, and that makes them mine. But if I consider you the rightful owner..."

Her eyes widened as if she felt the barrier break in her mind.

"...that will ease the transition," Elend said.

"I do enjoy working with intelligent people," Lena said with an approving nod. "Intention is too abstract for most Mana Artists to grasp."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

That was true, but it wasn't their fault. Elend had whole classrooms of students who understood the concept on paper, but their minds weren't strong enough to control it. Most Apprentices could handle simple binaries at the most. For example, Relia could choose to heal or kill a person. Higher levels of abstraction were beyond her, though.

Elend's gaze shifted toward the window, and he caught Glim waggling her transparent blue eyebrows. The little scamp knew he was married, but she'd never stopped trying to be his wingwoman.

Fortunately, he could choose who saw Glim and who didn't. Lena might see the mana in her Silver Sight, but that wouldn't be too suspicious considering this was Elend's cell.

They continued talking, and he learned that all five crystals would likely come off at the same time, in the presence of the Dragonlord himself. That was actually good news. At first, Elend had worried they might remove the cuffs one at a time. In hindsight, this strategy made more sense. If they removed one cuff, Elend would lose that cuff forever. But he'd also regain a fraction of his power, increasing his odds of escaping with the other four.

This way suited Elend just fine. He intended to leave this place with all five cuffs, after all.

As they talked, Elend sent more dream mana throughout the room, letting it flow in currents around them. This was the real reason he'd created the table and window. It wasn't meant to impress or intimidate her. It was to help her grow accustomed to his mana. No one ever suspected the Artist who flaunted his techniques.

Elend leaned forward across the table. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Her lip twitched in a quick grin, almost too fast to see. "You may ask."

"You're an Aeon," he said. "Or at least, you have an Aeon's soul. But you're also a Mana Artist. That implies you were born on this planet. How's that possible?"

Her smile widened, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Here I thought you'd ask me something interesting. Instead, you shoot straight for the age-old mystery."

"And that's boring?" Elend retorted.

"Not boring," she said. "Just predictable. We 'cultists' need our secrets, Espirian."

Elend made a Circuit technique with his Missiles. Circuits were just compound Missile techniques, but many Artists considered them an independent operation. With one hand, he sent dream mana into her head, gathering information about her thought patterns and emotions. His other hand retrieved the Missile, processing the findings in his own mind. From here, he could choose to continue the loop and manipulate her thoughts or emotions.

But that was a very dangerous game. Elend could force this woman to help him. In doing so, he might save his students. Not to mention the millions who might die if the Dragonlord got these cuffs. But could he truly take one person's freedom to save others? How many tyrants throughout history had used that exact logic?

No ... Elend had deceived and killed hundreds in battle, but he drew the line at enslaving even one person. Sometimes, he'd crossed that line in moments of weakness. Other times, a twisted part of his mind had justified it. But he'd always regretted it. In a way, this helped him understand Relia's reluctance to use her powers. It was a lifelong struggle, and the answers were rarely black and white.

"It's hardly a secret." Elend's expression revealed nothing of his inner conflict. "An Aeon and a Mana Artist could produce a child, and that child could have both abilities."

"That's a theory," Lena said. "But it's never been proven.

She honestly believed her own words. Well, Elend wasn't about to confirm it. That wasn't his secret to share.

"My mistake," he said with a casual shrug. "But you're in your late thirties at least." Actually, she was probably closer to her late forties, but it never hurt to be polite. "And yet ... you're only an Apprentice. Curious."

She didn't dignify his comment with a response. But of course, she didn't need to. Even in Espiria, half the adult population never made it past Apprentice. People got busy with family and work, and they had little time for training after that.

He didn't know Creta's exact numbers, but he suspected the majority never made it past the Foundation realm.

"I'd imagine the Cult of Solidor wanted—"

"The Church of Solidor," Lena corrected. "We're not a cult."

"Ah, my apologies." They fit the dictionary definition of a cult, but he didn't press the matter. "I'd imagine the Church of Solidor wanted you for a specific purpose. There are rituals that can turn a Mana Artist into an Aeon. In most cases, the ritual kills the Mana Artist. What if you survived, but it stalled your advancement forever?"

Something flickered in her expression. He'd touched a nerve there.

Elend waved that away. "Mere speculation, of course. I'd never ask you to confirm it. But it begs the question, why do you serve them?"

Something changed in her emotions. It was hard to put in exact words, but she felt more comfortable debating religion and theology. Even her eyes seemed to light up.

"Why do you serve the Angels, Espirian?"

Elend held up his free hand. "You're asking the wrong man. I like my gods abstract and unknowable. Too big to comprehend with my mere mortal senses. The Angels were just ordinary men who ascended. Last I heard, Solidor was also an ordinary man."

"And woman," Lena said.

"What?" Elend raised an eyebrow. "Was he a shapeshifter?"

"There were two Solidors," she said with a playful smile. "They were married, and they ascended together."

"Ah." Elend gave a slow nod as he sipped the last of his coffee. "I hadn't heard that before. So what's the appeal?"

"The Angels are the strongest beings in this world," she said, "But they're also bound by rules of their own. For example, their inability to kill humans directly. The Aeons have no restrictions here. They have a chance to change things."

"Change things?" Elend asked.

She nodded. "Knowledge is this world's most valuable commodity. Especially with Mana Arts. Most Cretans don't know how to reach Apprentice, even if they had the time to train. And no one but the Dragonlord's own family knows how to reach Master. Things are the same in Espira, no? You've climbed higher than most, but I doubt you know the Mystic revelations. The ruling clans keep those secrets close."

Actually, Elend did know the Mystic revelations, but he kept that fact to himself.

"And Dragonlord Antano?" he asked. "Is he part of the change you seek?"

He felt a tinge of guilt from her. Yes, of course. She knew exactly what he would do with these cuffs, and it wouldn't involve the democratization of knowledge. If he cared about that, then why not start now, with his own nation?

"Aye," Elend said. "Let me guess—we need to wade through a sea of blood to reach paradise? I've been working to change things, too. Are you familiar with those videos on the dark web? The ones from the Espirian Grandmaster?"

Recognition flashed in her dark eyes.

"That was me," he said. "That's what action looks like. Anyone can make empty promises."

Lena sighed. "Why do you tell me this, Espirian? Would you have me betray the Dragonlord? Give these cuffs to you instead?"

"Of course not," Elend said. "I'm just a professor who enjoys a hypothetical discussion. Besides, I suspect you swore an oath not to betray him. That's the only way he'd let us talk alone."

Another wave of guilt, as good as a confirmation.

"I can't say I agree with your methods," Elend continued, "but I'd like to meet the Solidors someday."

She gave a curt nod. "Perhaps you will, Espirian."

They continued for the better part of an hour, sprinkling short conversations among longer stretches of silence. Elend could do nothing to circumvent Lena's oath, nor could he break his own oath once these cuffs belonged to the Dragonlord. They hadn't discussed specifics yet, but he suspected that neither one of them would be able to harm the other once the deal was done.

So, it would all come down to that final moment between him and the Ethersmith. That moment would determine the fate of entire nations. Despite everything, Lena was still the weakest link in the chain. The more he understood about this Ethersmithing process, the more he could control it when the time came.