Ranvir smiled at the vendor as he checked a few of the milos before him. He realized he was hesitating and the merchant was losing their patience. Milo goes well in stew, Ranvir told himself, and grabbed a few that looked the best to his inexpert gaze. Exchanging a half-key, Ranvir moved on, his stomach twisting in on itself.

He’d been moving down the market for a quarter flare now and was approaching the east docks. Part of him recognized what he was doing, while another tried to drag out the time as much as possible. Eventually, he found himself looking at the banners still flying above the Sentinel’s estate.

The influx of people had slowed down from the lunch rush, but he knew it would pick up towards the end of the day again as responsibilities let up. He couldn’t tell if he was imagining the tension coming from within his tether-space, or if Latresekt really was following what he was doing and waiting to see.

Hefting his bag full of groceries and checking the time, he had nearly half a flare left before the next potragos left towards Eriene. Plenty of time.

Stepping past the walls surrounding and obscuring the Sentinel grounds, Ranvir discovered a training field. The walls took much of the noise from the surrounding city, so it felt like a different world as Ranvir stepped onto the grounds. A path had been paved from the gates to the entry of the main house. Two smaller buildings sat off in the estate's corner, both of which had a uniform and generic look. People were gathered around the fields, some training, most not.

Next to the entry, a few tables had been set up in two rows. The front row was largely empty and had chairs behind them, while the second row held fliers, water, and snacks.

No one was currently sitting by the front tables, though a group of less than athletic looking men and women had gathered around one of the rear tables and were chatting idly. Each of them had three banners streaming from their shoulders, same as Amalia, though with different colors. Theirs were predominantly light-green, white with a black square pattern on the border, and a simple flat white.

Unsure how to approach, Ranvir swept his tether-sense across the field. Like Vednar, most of the braced seemed to reach what he deemed to be second-stage, though a few of the sentinels were notably pushing into late second-stage or weak master. Of course, that was hardly a proper comparison. Elements mattered hugely, as did Abilities and Attuned techniques, respectively.

There was one within the main building that felt stifled. As Ranvir’s senses ran over them, it felt like smoke without the fire. The sensation was notably different from Pashar’s smoke, which felt purposeful in her double dedication to the element. For her the goal was smoke, for this other braced the smoke was a side-effect.

Ranvir also noted that they twigged to his probing immediately, though he couldn’t sense theirs in return. Judging someone who was deliberately holding back their strength was difficult, but they’d give any master at the academy a run. That much Ranvir was certain of.

“Excuse me,” a voice called out. “Are you here for the preference test?”

Ranvir returned his attention to the man now standing behind one table. He was on the shorter side, with thin limbs and a potbelly. From Ranvir’s brief perusal, he’d place him below first-stage and therefore not a braced.

Nodding, Ranvir stepped closer.

“Lovely. If you will just hold this and briefly display your will and I’ll get the results.”

Ranvir watched as he brought out a metallic device rising about half a meter into the air, with a wide base. On top there was a handle, similar to the ones for the element tester, though this one didn’t need to clasp around his forearms. Grabbing it, Ranvir reached for Amanaris.

In many ways, Amanaris felt just like his tether, especially since he’d picked Draw as his source-stat, but in two particular instances, it was very different. Amanaris didn’t use Disciplines to deliver mana, instead it packages small parts of that power into the Ability itself. It wasn’t as efficient as say the Dagger discipline, but a braced could simply pick apart a first-stage tethered from outside their range.

The second was the one more important for this scenario, displaying his will didn’t have an equivalent in his tether, as it was a function unique to Amanaris. As Ranvir flexed the muscle, he felt circles of white blossom behind his head. Two rings appeared behind him as the mana-item under his fingers buzzed.

With a twitch of his fingers, the pot-bellied receptionist created a display that they could both see. “What it’s doing is reading your innate talents and displaying them, usually with a value from 25 to 80. It’s then assigning a letter grade to each based on your age. Usually as you get older, the higher the number.”

Amanaris

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***

Ability-Type Preference Scan Begun:

Melee: 89 - S (Max Grade Reached)

Range: 100 - S (Max Grade Reached)

Internal: 100 - S (Max Grade Reached)

Kistios:

Tier 2

Level 13

Age: 3 years old

Talent: Peerless

“That’s…” the receptionist cleared his throat and frowned at the numbers. More disturbing to Ranvir, he felt an echoing response from the powerful braced in the office.

I knew this was a mistake. Why would I even bother? Cursing himself, Ranvir hefted his groceries and spoke as clearly as he could. “You should probably get the reader checked, the age is clearly wrong,” then he ducked out of the gates before anyone could stop him.

Ranvir didn’t detect anyone following him on his way to the potragos station, but he wasn’t sure he would if they cared not to be noticed. They had plenty more information about tether-sense, or soul-sight as they called, and might have a way of circumventing his senses. And his own perception wasn’t so high that he would rely on it just yet.

Ranvir stewed in his anxiety for the entire wait until the potragos was half a flare outside of Legea. Sparks of jittery red and white flickering wildly as he repetitively ran both his gaze and his tether-sense over the car. He got so sloppy that some of the other passengers began to notice.

Arriving in Eriene and still feeling off, Ranvir headed towards Elpir’s orphanage, stopping only briefly to make sure nothing out of the norm was about. He found Frija sitting in a hall next to Vasso. The boy had taken on a sort of protective big brother role over the years, though he’d grown no more talkative.

Taking a deep breath, Ranvir steadied himself. He took a few moments to force himself into a calmer state of mind, the sight of his daughter lending him the strength he’d lacked on the ride over.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he stopped behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder. Vasso glanced at him briefly before returning to his own work. They were writing, it seemed. Vasso with careful and deliberate motions, his focus wholly on the task before him. Frija with a fisted grip on her pencil as she did her best to write her name.

Glancing at Vasso’s work, Ranvir paused. “That’s really impressive Vasso, you’re great at that,” he gently touched the curly-haired boy on the shoulder once. Ranvir noticed the tug on his lips as a smile edged onto his lips, though the boy didn’t look up. “And you Frija,” he leaned in closer to actually try to read the letters. He knew how to spell her name using fiyan letters, of course, but… the four-year-old occasionally took some creative license with the form and shape of the letters. “Very impressive,” he muttered, noticing that she’d not turned any of the letters around this time.

Frija turned to look at him so suddenly she nearly knocked her head against his jaw, before she beamed the biggest and widest grin in the world towards him. “Look Dad! It’s my name.”

“It sure is,” Ranvir said. At least as close an approximation as fiyan could get with their letters. He shook her back and forth. “You did that so well!” Frija giggled and jumped out of her chair, presumably to fetch Elpir.

Ranvir took the seat and leaned on the table to look at Vasso. “Preparing for school?”

Vasso nodded before turning his attention back to his writing. Legea and larger cities had school all year round, where kids from eight to twelve were expected to go, but in a smaller town like Eriene there was only a school for half the year, the rest of the time the kids helped at home or not, in the case of the orphans.

Vasso was about to begin his third and second-to-last year, sponsored partially by the orphanage, the King, and the village. Unfortunately, Ranvir wasn’t likely to get nearly as much help. The King had an extensive support program for orphans and mandated the minimum half a year of school, but his support was lower for single parents. The village might support Frija a little as well, but Ranvir would have to bear the main burden of paying for her education.

He didn’t work in Eriene, but he helped with some of the other communal events, like the cullings where he’d gained what few levels he had.

“Dad!” Frija squealed, running back into the room. “Elpir was talking to Amalia, but I don’t think she was doing it right,” Frija leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “She was whispering like this, but into her stomach.”

Ranvir cocked his head in confusion as he picked up his daughter and plopped her on his knee. “That sounds odd. Maybe she wasn’t whispering.”

“What else could she be doing, Dad? Don’t be silly,” Frija chastised him.

“Of course, I’m sorry Fireheart,” then after a moment, “Where did you find her?”

“In her room.”

Ranvir sighed and shifted her so they could look at each other more directly before gazing at her. “Frija.”

“Yeah?” her voice grew quiet, and she averted her gaze.

“Look at me,” he waited patiently until she complied. “You don’t just run into other people’s rooms without asking first. That’s very intrusive,” his daughter’s chin quivered as she stared at him, and his body ached with the desire to hug her close, but he needed to hold strong for a little while longer. “Do you understand?”

“I- I- I’m sorry, Dad,” she reached out for him as her eyes welled with tears and he pulled her close. “I’m sorry.”

“You will have to tell Elpir that, not me,” he muttered to her as he rocked her back and forth, rubbing his knuckles up and down her back. Tutting softly to her, he sensed Elpir making her way towards them.

She appeared in the doorway, looking disheveled and wide-eyed. She stopped at seeing Ranvir comforting Frija and Vasso sitting next to them, completely ignoring the moment as he focused on his writing.

Ranvir waved her over, as he felt the shivers and convulsive gasps settle down somewhat. “Fireheart, Elpir’s here to talk to you.”

Frija pulled tighter into his stomach, gripping his shirt in a white-knuckle grip. Ranvir stroked her back once more before pulling away slightly, causing Frija to tighten up further. “You owe her an apology.”

Frija kept clutching herself to him, pushing her face into him. He kept stroking her back and gently shushing her, waiting patiently for the young girl to gather her wits. Elpir, who’d taught Ranvir not to push Frija, waited with him in silence. Eventually, Frija peeked out from her father and saw the orphanage caretaker.

“I’m sorry,” which ensued another bout of crying as she reached for Elpir instead. Ranvir let her go and the two hugged as Elpir whispered silent comforts into her ear.