Eventually, Mazren’s wife and daughter came home, and he went back to the usual routine of pretending Akari didn’t exist. Dinner came and went, and Akari returned to her room soon after.

Naturally, hers was the smallest room in the house—just big enough for a twin-sized bed, a desk, and a dresser. It was probably meant to be an office or something. That would explain why it sat on the main floor instead of the second level with the other two bedrooms.

The cramped size didn’t bother her, though. What was the point of more space when she didn’t have the stuff to fill it? She’d just feel like a marble rolling around the bottom of a trash can.

Still, while her furniture covered the wooden floor, the gray walls lay cold and empty like a foggy morning. Hanging something there had always seemed like a waste of time. Especially when she went through foster families faster than school uniforms.

Akari lay back on her bed, threw off her glasses, and glanced up at the ceiling. Some Midwinter lights along the edges would be a treat—the reddish-orange kind, with the giant, sphere-shaped bulbs. Her last bedroom had a set of those, and they always made the room feel cozier.

And of course, she wouldn’t say no to a computer. Especially now.

School was useless with security guards tailing her all day. Internet cafes were a thing, sure, but those weren’t cheap. The library had free computers, but no internet access.

There was always Kalden Trengsen’s offer. But what if that whole thing with Emberlyn had been a setup from the start? What if they’d gotten Akari banned from the computer lab to make her more desperate? Emberlyn had claimed to be Kalden’s fiancé, after all. Those two could have planned her downfall in the time it took to order a coffee.

There’s no winning against Golds.

Akari still didn’t believe those words, but her odds seemed impossible at times like this.

Her thoughts drifted in circles as the problems kept piling up one after the other. Eventually, her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted off. Sleep didn’t always come easy, and she had to take what she could get.

~~~

As always, Akari dreamt of mana arts.

Skyscrapers surrounded her on all sides—the sort of buildings you only saw in old movies. Buildings so tall, she had to crane her neck to see their peaks. Instead of plain glass windows, each structure had intricate designs of twisting metal along the edges. Some tapered as they grew. Others twisted at their peaks like frosting on a cake.

Rain misted from the sky above, and the streets shone with fresh rainwater, reflecting molten red lines from the setting sun.

A fire Missile tore past her face, colliding with the pale blue shield further down. A burning car flew over her head, rolling through the street, and knocking over two advancing enemies. To her left, a gravity artist lifted the back of a semi-truck and hurled it through a glass window.

Akari’s breath hitched at the sight. This was true power. If you asked these people the difference between a Bronze and a Gold, they would have laughed. To them, both labels were empty words—nothing but the first few steps on a much longer path.

She stepped forward and joined the battle, cycling her own mana from within her soul. The energy tore through her like a rushing river, strengthening her muscles and bones, making her feel more alive than she’d ever felt before.

Rain prickled her fingertips as she raised her hands toward some distant target. The mana poured down her arms, becoming denser in her palms until her skin couldn’t contain the pressure.

When Akari released her Missiles, she didn’t shoot fire, or ice, or wind onto the battlefield.

Instead, her Missiles warped space and time.

Her brain couldn’t comprehend her movements after that. One second, she was standing in the street. The next, she stood on a balcony twenty stories in the air. Space warped around her as her enemies attacked, turning their own Missiles against them.

Standing there, in that moment, Akari knew this was more than a dream. She knew the Archipelago was the lie, and this world was real. Whether this was a memory of her past life or a vision of the future, she couldn’t say. Regardless, this was the world she fought so hard to reach. This moment had etched its mark on her soul. Like the Missiles that left her palms, it touched her across space and time.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

The dream would end soon, but she would return someday.

She would become a mana artist, or she would die trying.

~~~

Kalden reclined on his usual bench, listening to the day’s gossip. The air was cooler than yesterday, and he regretted not bringing a jacket. A dark layer of storm clouds covered the sun, and clusters of leaves danced in the crisp autumn wind.

Beside him, Darren coughed into his arm. “Speaking of Akari Zeller . . .”

“What about her?” Kalden asked.

“She’s heading this way,” Maelyn added. “She looks determined.”

“Or pissed off,” Darren said.

Maelyn chuckled. “In other words, nothing new?”

Kalden glanced up to see Akari shuffling through the quad, head bowed against the wind with her hood halfway over her eyes. He hadn’t expected her to approach him in public. Then again, she didn’t have many options these days.

The girl hiked up the short staircase to Kalden’s curved bench. She stopped when she was a few feet away, shooting him one of her trademark glares.

Kalden sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “Akari Zeller, meet Darren Warder and Maelyn Sanako. My ‘evil minions,’ as you call them.”

“We’ve met,” Darren said with a cheerful wave.

“Evil minions?” Maelyn asked. “But that sounds so pedestrian. We prefer ‘Council of Eternal Darkness.’”

Akari never took her eyes off Kalden. “You didn’t tell me you were engaged to Emberlyn Frostblade.”

“There’s a simple explanation for that,” Kalden replied. “I’m not engaged to Emberlyn Frostblade.”

“Then what is she to you?”

“A childhood friend,” he said. “Our parents have suggested an alliance, but we’re not second-century nobles. I do have some say in the matter.”

Akari crossed her arms. “Did you tell her to attack me yesterday?”

“Why would I do that?”

She stopped crossing her arms and grabbed her backpack straps instead. “I didn’t need you to get on the dark web. Not till she got me banned from the computer lab.”

Ah. That did look suspicious, didn’t it?

Maelyn cleared her throat from Kalden’s left. “I’m sure that looks like a well-crafted plot in hindsight, but it’s too convoluted to work in practice.”

Akari turned her glare on the other girl. “No offense, but you’re hardly biased.”

“I think you mean unbiased,” Kalden corrected.

Akari turned back to him and made a rude gesture.

“And Maelyn’s right,” he said. “Even if it were a good plan—which it’s not—I still wouldn’t do that.”

“Prove it,” she snapped.

Kalden closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose. Once again, she was trying to provoke him into a reaction. She probably did this as a coping mechanism—pushing people away and testing them before they could surprise her.

“I’m trying to establish trust with you,” he said. “Mana arts take months—even years—to learn. That implies a long-term partnership. Do I manipulate people? Sometimes. But I don’t see that as a viable option here.”

“Or you’re more desperate than you let on,” Akari said.

Kalden shook his head. “I’ll be sixteen in a few weeks. My mother can’t stop me from joining the military at that point. It’s not ideal, but combat arts aren’t completely out of reach for me.” After a short pause, he leaned forward. “But this is about more than combat, isn’t it?”

A spark of recognition flashed in her eyes, and Kalden nodded. “Money and respect come and go,” he said. “That’s true for Bronze and Golds alike. But mana arts can never be taken away. Especially when you learn it on your own terms.”

She stood there for several long seconds, still fidgeting with her backpack straps. All the while, Darren and Maelyn watched the conversation in silence.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Akari said. “But I didn’t forget about Emberlyn. You could have helped me yesterday.”

Kalden felt his lips curl at the edges. “First I’m a dark lord, now I’m held to the standards of the leading man?”

Her eyes narrowed. “It’s your fault Emberlyn attacked me. Doesn’t matter if you sent her or not.”

“Fine,” he conceded. “I messed up. I’d assumed I’d been discreet, but one of her informants saw you with Alec. Can I make it up to you somehow? Maybe I can pull some strings and get you back in the computer lab?”

“You really think Grandhall will budge on that?”

“Probably not,” he admitted. Money could buy victory in small skirmishes, but the greater war required a more subtle hand.

“You could testify for me,” Akari said. “Tell Grandhall you saw Emberlyn use her mana arts. Then he’d have no choice but to review the security footage.”

Darren let out a soft whistle at that. “She really attacked you, huh?”

Akari frowned at the blond-haired boy. “I thought you guys knew everything.”

Kalden cleared his throat. “Let’s say your plan works. Best-case scenario, Emberlyn gets expelled. But she’ll find a new school by next week.”

“It would still feel good,” Akari muttered.

“Then she’ll come after you,” he continued. “And so will the rest of Clan Frostblade. Put all your pieces into one battle, and you lose the war. It won’t feel good, and you’ll barely slow her down.”

Akari hesitated, crossing her arms again as a gust of wind shot through the quad. Still, Kalden could see the gears turning behind her eyes. The girl was impulsive, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew how many graves you dug when you sought revenge.

“Emberlyn believes she’s won this round,” Kalden said. “She thinks she sabotaged whatever scheme I was planning. I say we let her keep thinking that. In the meantime, you and I are free to conduct our business.”

Akari furrowed her brow. “First she wants to marry you, then she wants to sabotage you?”

Kalden shrugged. “That’s Gold politics for you.”

“Fine,” she said. “Is your offer still good?”

“It is. My mother and stepfather are away this weekend, so I’ll have the house to myself.”

She drew in a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Kalden reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card—black card stock with gold embossed text. “This is my home address. Does Talekday morning work for you?”

Akari rolled her eyes at that. “My foster parents make me go to the sermons.”

“Akarday then?”

She glanced down at the business card, then nodded.

“Excellent,” Kalden said. “Stop by my house at one o’clock, and we’ll get started.”