As after period finished up, Ranvir walked over to talk with Master Ayvir, who’d joined them yet again. He’d spent most of his time shadowing Ranvir, which hadn’t been nerve-racking at all. To have a Master—someone who’s reached the peak of power—follow your every move and advice.

Yep, not an issue.

“So what do you think?” Ranvir asked. Ayvir gathered his own light as Grev’s drew away from them. His was different from the Veil’s. Grev always gathered his into a ball, then doled out the light sparingly from there. Ayvir had no visible source of light, he just had a ten meter aura around which the ambient light was like day. It gave the Master an ethereal feeling, creating day in the middle of the night.

Ayvir smiled, clearly aware of Ranvir’s nerves. “It’s interesting. You’re definitely making some new rules as you go, though so far, the results speak for themselves.”

Ranvir chuckled. “I don’t know about that. Esmund was always going to advance fast, that was never a doubt. Sansir and Grevor have been putting in a lot of work, so that’s why they advanced early.”

“Uh huh.” Ayvir smiled and nodded. “Then again, we’ve broken the record for fastest first-stage advancements four times in a single year.”

“Wait, really? Four times?”

“Dovar did it first, with just under six hours. Then Esmund coming in just under four. Grevor in an hour and Sansir in half an hour.” Master Ayvir gave him an intent look. “Now, Dovar is a literal never-before-seen talent and Esmund isn’t far behind. But Grevor and Sansir? Their initial assessments called them good, don’t get me wrong, but they weren’t even as good as me when I went here.”

The Master let his statement hang in the silence, it seemed to fill the ethereally lit clearing with a heavy weight. It slowly settled on Ranvir’s shoulders.

“Their achievements are spectacular, Ranvir.” Ayvir said, more somberly now. “And not just by Elusrian standards. By any standard. Ankirian, Vargish, or Sankur. They would all be spectacular.”

Ranvir shifted uncomfortably, trying to maintain eye contact with the Master. Though his piercing blue eyes became ever harder to look into.

“I’ve met the current Triplet Masters, spoken with them, fought with them. There aren’t that many alive. Five, maybe a hidden sixth.” He lowered his voice and Ranvir felt him sweep the nearby area with his tether-sense, like a building passing by overhead. “If things continue you might literally be training the next generation of Triplet Masters. Or the next ‘unfortunate deaths’ at the front lines. Discretion is your strongest tool currently. You’re a rabbit playing with bears, and so are your friends. Until you’re ready to wrestle them, you better keep to your den, keep quiet, and hope they don’t notice you.”

Ranvir tried swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat. Pale violet fear rushed through the garden of his mind, touching every straw of grass it could find. When he’d read of the many talented young tethered dying on the front lines, he’d thought it a little suspicious and Ayvir had basically confirmed his worst fear.

The United Alliance served to fend off both the Flesh-torn and—more importantly—the other nations, keeping them weak and pliable. Making sure the nations in control, would remain as such. Keeping their vice grip on the world strong.

“Thank you for telling me, sir.” Ranvir said, his voice shook as he spoke, remembering the the ankirians visiting the academy. “You don’t think they’re here to…”

Ayvir shook his head. “They’re likely here to check on Dovar and Esmund. If you make sure you and the others keep a low profile from now on you should be fine.” Ayvir frowned as he looked off in the distance, towards the Masters’ Tower. “If you can, you want to keep out of politics. Even if they don’t notice your skills, your presence might be enough to bring down the hammer on you.”

Ranvir’s brows drew down. “Politics? I don- Sure, we’ll do our best.” He nodded to the Master, though he couldn’t see how, or why, they would get drawn into politics, at least for a few years yet. Probably not until they started climbing the military ladder, if they chose to do as much.

“I mean it, Ranvir.” Ayvir gave him a hard look. “Keep out of politics.”

“Okay.” The younger tethered said, backing away from the Master’s intense gaze.

“Good, go get some rest.” Ayvir said, slapped him on the back and gestured towards the dorms. A trickle of starlight ran the length from the field to the front door of the first-year dormitory.

“Yes, sir.” Ranvir nodded, trudging off. “Goodnight, Ayvir.”

“Goodnight, Ranvir.” And the pair split off to their respective buildings.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The trickle of starlight ran out quickly, leaving Ranvir to find his way in the dark, though it really wasn’t such a problem. While it snowed a lot and often it wasn’t at the moment, meaning Ranvir didn’t have to fight his way through an icy onslaught. As such, he easily found his way back to building, just from the lights coming through most of the shutters.

A flickering sensation of movement hidden by smoke was Ranvir’s only warning. He flared his power, drawing as much energy through his tether as he could, before smoke enveloped him.

Immediately, Ranvir got a lungful of the toxic stuff. It coated his throat like a sludge, forcing out tearing coughs that made his eyes water even more than the smoke did. It stank of rotten apples and fruit left in the forest on a hot summer day. The stench tore at him almost as much as venomous bite to his lungs did.

Then another’s tether-sense struck him. It fell on him like a boulder thrown from the top of Masters’ Tower, trying to crush him under its Supremacy. And it didn’t stop, it kept dragging him down.

Ranvir caught the ambusher’s presence moving closer and he lurched towards them, catching them around the waist. Another’s voice joined Ranvir’s in coughing as his shoulder caught him just below the breast as he took him to the ground. Crawling hand-over-hand, Ranvir fought his way up his writhing assailant’s body.

A hand gripped Ranvir’s hair, as the pressure on his tether increased. He felt himself starting to slip so he jammed his knuckles into the assailants side, but the thick coat blunted the strike.

Coughing, his opportunity to escape slipping away with every second, Ranvir caught the hand in his hair. He lost grip on the pressure and was thrown through tether-space. He found himself lying on his stomach on the ice trying to cough his lungs up.

They gripped his hair, pulling him up as if to look at his face. Smoke burned his eyes his lungs fought for air.

“You think, just because you’re friends with nobles that they will protect you? That they can? You do not own the academy. This isn’t your playground to do as you please.” A hand gripped him by the jaw, squeezing hard. Enough so, that Ranvir felt the muscles loosen on reflex. “Remember your place, Student.” The last was said with such vehemence, Ranvir feared for his life for a moment. “This is yo-“ The voice stopped and Ranvir’s head dropped back into the snow.

Suddenly, the air cleared and he took in a bare breath of fresh air, before his tortured throat and lungs began hacking up whatever toxic stuff they’d been breathing before. His eyes burned and were tearing up so bad he could barely see the snow before his eyes.

He felt another set of hands on his back, patting him softly as voices spoke in a language he didn’t recognize, or understand. Finally, after coughing up what felt like a lungful worth of slime and phlegm, Ranvir looked to his rescuers.

He saw a pair of dark brown eyes, nearly black in the night. Though most of the face was hidden beneath a veil, he could still make out what felt like youthful features around her eyes and brows. Behind her stood two other women. One wore a veil similar to the one helping Ranvir up. Both their hair, he recognized now was contained in similar wraps. It took him a moment to realize that he could see. Someone was creating light.

Then he finally registered their skin color, noticeably darker than any Elusrians, darker even than Pashar’s. Then he combined it with their foreign language and Ranvir felt immediately on edge. Instinctively, he embraced the pressure.

The last woman turned glowing yellow eyes on him. She looked immediately different from the others, wearing no veil, nor hiding her hair in a wrap. She wore thin, loose clothing that fit the diaphanous attachments and flairs far better, though lacked the protection from the cold which Ranvir would’ve thought most important.

Slowly, the stranger approached him. She had wrinkles at corner of her eyes and as she held out a hand, it had a worn but well kept look of a rich merchant wife, maybe. Though her glowing yellow eyes, golden eyes really, put a lie to that. Ranvir hadn’t known what to think of Minul the Second having yellow eyes, but this woman put it clear in the ballpark of possibility.

As she approached, the younger ankirian, light tethered like the other woman, stepped away from him. Away from her.

“This is my apprentice, Rafeeda el-Safi.” The older finely dressed woman said. “I am Naadiya al-Fayad, Light Master of the Heart and Lance.”

A Twin-Master. Ranvir felt out of his depths. She was by far the most powerful tethered he’d ever met. Apparently, she’d saved him from being attacked by most likely a fifth-year smoke tethered.

“And this-“ She gestured to woman still approaching Ranvir, the one without a veil, who held her hand up as if to cup his cheek. “Is Saleema.” Tension hid in her tone, as she spoke of the last member of their group.

“Saleema, come we must return. Zubair must know of this attack.” Naadiya said. “Which year are you in? Do you know why they attacked you?”

Ranvir blinked, nervously pulling his eyes away from Saleema. The woman was sending panic red running through him, mixed with a haze of a different red, one that occasionally left three fingered prints in his panic. His every desire told him to run, but his instincts knew it was futile.

“I’m in my first year, ma’am.” Ranvir said, glancing away from Saleema to look at Naadiya. “He said something about nobles but I’m really not sure, ma’am.”

Saleema put her hand on his cheek. Her touch felt electric and static. For a moment, he sensed a much larger presence overshadowing the empty night, the moons gave it eyes and the empty dark all around it what little form it had. Then it came through, purple cracks appeared in Saleema’s already glowing irises as she stroked his face with back of her fingers.

She whispered something in kisi, her voice wavering. She pulled him down, gently, but insistently into her bosom, softly rocking them left and right. With one hand she patted his hair, while he tried to still his quivering. He felt her on the edge of his awareness. A presence unlike anything he’d ever felt. Yet very much like previous morning, when half the student body had been knocked down.

Now, it loomed over him, even as she petted his head and cooed to him in a soft voice.

A new voice called out in kisi and a new presence inserted itself between them. Ranvir felt it apply supremacy to him, gently separating him from his tether. The voice continued speaking, as strong hands pulled the woman away from Ranvir.

He didn’t wait for any of them approach him again, he ran as fast as he could. The woman and man talked, Saleema speaking in an increasingly confused tone, as Ranvir got further and further away.