Akari had a free hour after lunch, so she headed to the Mana Arts and Sciences building to find Elend. She pulled open a heavy wooden door and found a room that resembled a small theater. Seats rose in tiered semicircles around a raised stage where Elend paced back and forth, amplifying his voice with dream mana.

“Now then, who can tell me the difference between Mana Artists and Aeons?” He extended a finger, searching for a victim. Finally, he settled on a girl who’d been staring down at her cell phone. “Ah, Cosra!”

Cosra’s head snapped up as several more students turned to face her. “Um … Mana Artists can do Mana Arts?”

“Very impressive,” Elend said with a straight face. “Someone’s been reading ahead in her textbook.”

Several people chuckled at that, but Elend only shrugged. “Well, she’s not wrong. But how about something more biological? We might come from different planets, but we’re all human. We’ve proven as much by reproducing over the years. Despite that, we’re not all the same.” He spun on his heel and pointed to someone else. “Tell me how, Mr. Savang.”

A muscular Shokenese boy sat up straighter, as if he’d been born to answer this very question. “We have souls and channels that let us move mana metaphysically through our bodies. Aeons don’t.”

“Good. And what do Aeons have …” Once again, Elend swept a hand over the room. “Ah, Miss Zeller?”

Another Zeller? That’s funny. Then Akari blinked when she realized Elend was pointing straight at her.

Shit.

“Some kind of crystal?” Akari asked. She knew it had a name—this was the same unbreakable stuff that made up his cuffs on Arkala—but she’d never bothered to learn it. After all, this topic was far too niche for the admissions exams.

“Some Kind of Crystal,” Elend echoed as he formed two dream mana Constructs on the stage. “And yes, class, that is the correct scientific term.”

A laugh followed, and Akari glared at Elend. “I’m not even in this class.”

“Miss Bazina.” Elend gestured to another student. “Please tell me Miss Zeller’s current location.”

“In this class,” said Miss Bazooka, or whatever her name was.

Another chuckle from the students, and Akari glared harder. Yeah, this was the last time she waited for Elend here.

Elend’s Constructs reshaped themselves into two transparent human forms on either side of the stage. The left form had a well of light in his chest, and that light flowed in channels throughout his body.

"As Mr. Savang noted, Mana Artists have souls and channels—this much you learned in grade school. So why point it out? Well, for most of our history, we assumed all humans were built this way. That is, until we met our cousins from across the Abyss,"

Elend gestured to the human-shaped Construct on the right side of the stage. She had a soul too, far brighter than the Mana Artist’s. No channels, though.

“Aeons have souls, but unlike Mana Artists, their souls are physical things inside their bodies. We call this material ‘Some Kind of Crystal.’”

Etherite, Akari finally remembered. Too late to speak up now, though.

“This crystal soul pulls energy from the spiritual realm, exactly like a Mana Artist’s soul. In fact, some speculate that the first Aeons harvested the the souls of deceased Angels and brought them into their own bodies. We can’t prove that, unfortunately. We only have a few dozen Aeons on this planet, and they’re notoriously secretive.” He grinned. “As opposed to all the transparent, philanthropic cult leaders out there.”

The class laughed yet again. Talek. No wonder Elend thought he was funny. They treated him like a freaking stand-up comedian.

He took a few steps forward. “But you’re all Combat students, are you not? So here’s the real question—how do we fight Aeons?”

He glanced to the side of the stage, and the Mana Artist Construct began cycling his mana and forming Missiles in his palms. He glanced to the right side, and the Aeon formed techniques in her palms without cycling.

“Aeons don’t have channels,” Elend said. “And yet, they can perform techniques with mana. What does this remind us of?”

“Masters,” Savang said with a raised hand. “They can move mana with just their minds.”

“Good,” Elend said. “Most of you are Apprentices or Artisans. That means you rely on your bodies to move mana. Your souls and channels, to be exact. Masters move past this limitation. So why can Aeons do it?” He shrugged as he paced in front of the transparent Constructs. “It seems to prove Salvatore’s theory of mind and soul connections. Stick a high-level soul into a being, and that being will develop the neural connections to use it.”

Huh, Akari thought. Was this part of the actual curriculum, or was Elend just interested in Aeons because of what happened on Arkala and Creta? Probably the latter, knowing him.

“Anyway,” Elend said, “when it comes to fighting Aeons, you can think of them as Masters in Apprentice bodies. This makes them far more dangerous than they appear. Glass cannons, yes. But those glass cannons can still kill you with a single technique. Never underestimate your opponent, as Grandmaster Raizen always says.”

Kinda like that time the Martials caught you? Talek, how she wished she could say that out loud …

Elend glanced up at the analog clock, which had been slowly inching closer to the next hour. “Consider your plans for Narsday. We’ll meet in the second-year arenas, and I’ll be simulating Aeons for you to fight.” Then he waved a hand vaguely at the doors. “Off with you now! Skedaddle!”

The room sprang into motion. Chairs scooted away from desks, while others scrambled to put away laptops and books.

Akari stepped away from the nearest door as the others filtered out. She watched the stage where Elend’s human-shaped Constructs slid toward each other as if they sat on opposite conveyor belts.

Several seconds passed, and then the two forms merged. This new form had two shining souls instead of just one.

~~~

“Well,” Elend said as they stepped into his office, “no blood or broken bones. I’d call that a win for your first day of school.” No sooner had they closed the door than his jacket and dress shirt vanished, revealing a plain black t-shirt beneath. Had he been wearing fake clothing this whole time? Even after living with Elend all summer, she still hadn’t gotten used to his antics.

“Make any new friends?” he asked.

Akari shrugged. “Can you tell me how to fight a Dream Artist?”

“Ah.” Elend stepped behind the wooden desk on the room’s opposite side. The surface was bare, aside from two computer monitors and a short stack of books. Dark wooden bookshelves surrounded it on three sides, along with a full-length mirror for Glim. “What’d she do to you?”

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

“Who?” Akari strolled over to a set of leather armchairs and plopped down.

“There’s only one Dream Artist in your class.”

Akari put her feet up on the coffee table. Elend raised an eyebrow, and she removed them just as quickly. She looked around, checking the windows and doors. “Is this room secure?”

Elend pressed a button on his desk, then raised a transparent Construct of his own mana. “It is now.”

Akari let out a long breath, trying not to shudder too hard at the memory. “She showed me the Mystic destroying Last Haven. The TA said it was my … worst fear or something.”

“Aye,” he said with a grave nod. “The best Dream Artists will use your own imagination against you.”

“So what’s the counter? Practice? Can you or Glim do it with me?” If Akari had to pass out fifty times, she’d rather get it done without her whole class watching.

Elend raised a finger. “First of all, I don’t use techniques like that. Second—”

“Why not?” Akari cut in. She’d actually wondered about this before. If Dream Artists were so strong, then why had Elend struggled on Creta? Why bother with illusions if you could just snap your fingers and drop people like rag dolls?

“Once upon a time,” Elend said, “there was a strange young lad who struggled to make friends in school. Then one day, he learned his dream mana could control people’s emotions—even make people like him. It became an addiction, like a drug. Once everyone figured it out, they trusted the lad less than ever.”

“Wow.” Glim finally appeared in the mirror. “He sounds crazy. Crazy enough to have an imaginary friend.”

“We all have lines we won’t cross to win,” Elend said. “Unfortunately, some of us have to cross those lines to realize it.” He waved that away. “Even if I did those techniques, it wouldn’t help you. That’s like an ant practicing its Cloaks by fighting a drake.”

“You can go easy on me,” Akari said. “Maybe use a different technique? One that doesn’t cross any lines?”

“You’re approaching this all wrong, lass. Elise Moonfire showed you one trick, and you want to spend hours learning to counter it? There are two-hundred more students in your class to worry about. Besides, a Dream Artist won’t use the same trick twice. It will be something different next time.”

Damnit, he was probably right. Then again, Elise Moonfire wouldn’t need a new trick if Akari twiddled her thumbs until their next fight. Over-training to counter one technique might be stupid, but so was falling for the same thing twice.

“You can train your mind to counter dream mana,” Elend said, “but you’re not going to like it.”

Akari gave him a flat look. She’d just offered to face her worst memory until she built up mental calluses. What could possibly be worse—

“Meditation,” Elend said.

“Shit.” Akari dragged out the word, rocking her head over the back of the leather armchair.

“Aye.” He grinned. “Everyone says that, but it’s the best way.”

“Tried that before,” Akari muttered. “Didn’t work.”

“Tell me, how many months did you practice before you gave up?”

She’d only done it long enough to sense her own mana, but Elend’s smug expression said he already knew that.

“Meditation helps you see your own thoughts,” he explained. "You train yourself to be an active observer. Then, when a foreign thought invades your mind, you can see it for what it is.”

“After months of practice,” she deadpanned. “How’s that better than my first idea?”

“Meditation will help you in all aspects of Mana Arts. No pun intended. I know it’s a mundane power, and that makes it less exciting. But consider this—what is power?”

Akari groaned. “Whatever I say will be the wrong answer.”

“Come now. Have I gotten that predictable?”

“Actually,” Glim said in a poor impression of Elend’s voice. “All the Artegium professors here do that. You’d know that if you were as smart as me.”

Akari suppressed a laugh. Glim could perfectly replicate voices, so that impression could only be intentional.

“Fair enough, I suppose.” Elend stood up, pulled open the sliding glass door, and stepped outside.

Akari followed him out onto a private balcony that overlooked the Artegium. Talek. Elegan High’s teachers had worked in glorified cubicles, and those cubicles were smaller than this balcony. Working here definitely had its perks.

“Look at your peers,” Elend said with a sweeping gesture. “What do you see down there?”

“You’re still doing it,” Glim called out from inside the office.

“Ignore her,” Elend said. “Consider it part of your training.”

Akari took her time surveying the scene below. She spotted roughly a hundred students inside the Artegium. Most were walking on the cobblestone paths between classes, but the rest sat on benches, or with their friends in the grass. These all shared one thing in common.

“They’re staring at their cell phones?”

“Aye,” Elend said. “Mana Arts used to be secret and restricted, almost like a superpower. But things are changing in the modern world. Mana Arts is more accessible now than ever, and the superpower has shifted to things like focus and attention. Your peers aren’t just looking at their phones in their free time. They do it in class and at work. They do it while they study, and while they train. You and Kalden don’t have this problem because you grew up in a world with limited technology.”

“And meditation helps attention,” Akari guessed.

He nodded. “Every Master knows this, and I guarantee the best students in your class know it too. Including Miss Moonfire. Just as your peers can split their attention and get less out of each training session, you can focus harder and get more.”

Elend spent the next few minutes catching her up on the basics of meditation, along with how to work it into her daily schedule. Most Mana Artists focused on cycling while they meditated, and this had the added benefit of increasing their mana count. Dream Akari had done this exact thing back in Last Haven, which meant she already had a solid foundation.

“One more thing,” Akari said before she left. “What about my aspect?" She’d been too busy to worry about that until now. First, with the admissions exam, and then with the first day of school. Her hacking skills had helped her survive the first few duels—they might even get her an alliance now that she and Kalden were pretending to split up—but the clock was ticking on the hacking game.

Aside from reaching Apprentice, this was the next best way to increase her combat potential.

“Right,” Elend said. “I’ve been meaning to bring that up.”

Dream mana flowed from his hand, swirling around the wooden coffee table between them. It took the shape of a transparent human female, roughly ten inches tall, who sat cross-legged in the center of the table. Three circles formed a triangle around the figure. The first two held space and time artifacts—a bag and a watch, respectively. The third circle held a glowing blue question mark.

“I’ve already purchased your first two artifacts,” Elend said. “But you need an odd number for the ritual. Even numbers tend to fight each other, and you’ll have nowhere to redirect the extra energy. This is why it’s so hard to combine two aspects.”

Akari furrowed her brow as she examined the scene. “What about using two of one type? Like two space and one time?”

“Maybe,” Elend said. “The truewater aspect uses two-thirds water and one third ice. But that aspect doesn’t aim for balance. The ice is just a way to extend the water techniques.”

“But space and time are the same thing,” Akari said. “That’s the whole point of my parents’ theory.”

“Aye, but balance still matters, and you might not get the full benefits if you stack one side. I’d recommend you introduce a third, unrelated artifact, and give it less attention than the first two. For example, forty-five percent mana to space, forty-five percent to time, and ten percent to the unknown third.

Akari blinked. She hadn’t known you could do that. Then again, she was far from an expert on aspect rituals.

“What about using five artifacts?” she asked. “Or seven?”

“Some Artists use five. Especially the sentimental ones. For example, let’s say your parents each left you two artifacts, and your favorite teacher gave you one.” He waved a dismissive hand. “You can do it, but it’s like tasting ten glasses of wine instead of just drinking one. Needlessly complicated, with no practical benefits.”

“Okay,” Akari said. “So what do I do?”

Elend shrugged. “I don’t have the answers, lass. I suspect your parents had a plan. Or maybe not. But you can’t just pick anything. It has to fit conceptually with spacetime.”

Akari considered that for a moment. “Gravity mana?”

Elend waggled a hand from side to side. “The goal matters more than logical categories. Ask yourself this—what’s the goal of your new aspect? Many Space Artists work in transportation, either focusing on portals or extending containers. Time Artists might create loops for experimentation, or to preserve something in its current state. You need a unifying goal. The third artifact should represent that goal.”

Talek. This was harder than she thought.

“Finally,” Elend said. “The aspect needs to fit you. It should be something you’ve immersed yourself in. Something that’s part of your identity. Your parents prepared you for space and time, but the rest is up to you.”

“Great,” Akari said. “More soul searching.”

Elend grinned at her. “That part of Mana Arts never stops. If anything, it only gets worse. Remember all that time I had you relax, without studying or training? You’re teaching your mind to open up to new possibilities. You’re learning to listen rather than filling your days with constant work. Combine that with your new meditation skills, and you have all the tools you need.”