Ranvir started with meditation. Gazing at his tether and letting time and thoughts pass him by. Once ready, he moved on to his regular training regimen. His spirit was filled to the brim with power, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t room for improvement. Starting with Kasos initial exercises, he’d used to teach Ranvir how to access and control his soul.

He moved onto his Fundament and the Concept at the core of his being. Consciously moving through and cementing Persistence throughout his presence. Without opening his eyes, he retrieved a flag stone from his pocket-space. The rectangular stone looked as if some vicious mouse had been nibbling on it, like a tough cheese.

He chipped off pieces of the brick, drawing it into himself and settling it within Graywing’s enclosure. The effort left him sweating and panting for breath. Taking a breath, Ranvir tapped into his Concept and Persisted in his effort. Only when his soul was left weak and trembling, his spine feeling like it was crumbling, did he rest.

Resting and gazing at his tether, letting the wind of its passing wash over him, Ranvir’s strength returned to him. He dug into the brick again, this time sending the pieces to Amanaris. Once more, he was curled around the stone, dripping sweat onto its surface and catching his breath. Once more, he recovered and regathered his focus. Again, he internalized the slab, sending it to his tether-space. Again, he grew weak.

Each time he returned to the stone, his strength drained a little faster. He chipped away a little less. But each day, he chipped away a little more than yesterday. He could feel the effects even now. His Fundament—the core of his soul, like the tether was core to his space mana—was spitting out anima, spiritual energy, soaking the newly added elements. He was growing denser and gaining depth.

Ranvir wrapped himself in power and moved to his training-space and begun training his Abilities. He’d initially started with a hundred repetitions of each Ability while maintaining Loce, and there were gains to be made in such a way. However, he’d found twenty-five uses, each performed with exacting precision, gave him greater rewards than mindlessly repeating it.

Initially, he lowered his attempts to save time while also practicing something new. He was no longer saving time. As Ranvir drew in power and gathered sand to twirl around him, he followed the exacting pattern of Dune Blow. In order to handle his unbalanced Mana: Draw, he was forced to slow down and reminding himself often. A cast he could do in less than five seconds took him more than a minute.

Amanaris

***

Dune Blow has increased from 291 -> 292

Sand burst through the room, the air cracking with the sound, and space shifted with the impact. As his training space groaned and shifted, Ranvir examined it, finding the weaknesses and reinforcing them, then reset his stance and began again.

Returning to the forest, Ranvir was once more seated on the ground. He ran through his soul to make sure all the newly infused stone had settled in properly and to prime his mind with the focus needed for the last and, in some ways, most arduous task. He once more tracked Saleema through the Lines, then retraced the steps back into the present day.

There was a temptation to seek her out and kill her while she was inert, but from the stories Ranvir’d heard, she couldn’t just be killed. Apparently, they’d punched a hole straight through her chest when Master Ayvir fought her and it had only made her more angry. While she was inactive, there was no reason to tempt fate and every reason to prepare.

Ranvir idly ran his senses over the Lines, seeing the pattern. It streaked directly towards the limits of Vednar’s plane. The wider he spread his perspective, the more it reminded him of water being poured into the middle of a plate, then running out toward the edges. From what he sensed, Vednar was barely a third the size of Korfyi, with all the mana coming from beyond the front lines. The constant combat and the Fleshtorn especially made it nearly impossible to get a clear picture of anything beyond the war.

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Ranvir surfaced, returning his focus to his surroundings.

“And he’s back!” Es said brightly, pushing off from the trunk of the tree he was leaning on. “How are you feeling?”

Ranvir flexed his hand, noting the throbbing pain and tightness coming from it. The skin over his knuckles had split, bled, and dried. He flexed his fingers a few times, but his hand wasn’t broken.

“A little sore,” he said.

“I’d bet the tree feels worse.” Es’ humor could not be understated.

Ranvir followed his gesture to the tree his father had been preparing before storming off. The bark had cracked and fallen away, leaving a fist-sized hole in its protection. Four divots had been punched into the grain of the woods as well.

“I should’ve broken my hand,” Ranvir muttered, flexing his fingers again. He remembered punching the wall and breaking his hand when he’d first come to Korfyi. He’d hit the tree harder than that. Is this the burnt in Sandstorm Rage? Ranvir wondered, remembering the sensation of mana lingering in his soul. Maybe the bird limb is tougher than my regular arm?

“You don’t feel like exploding and attempting to take anyone’s head off, right?”

Ranvir shook his head, and Es clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good, because someone’s here to see you,” he pointed to someone behind Ranvir.

Red curly hair tied back into a tail that reached the middle of her back. She wore a well-fitting dress in dark colors. She carried two slate tablets tied at her waist, as well as a bag of chalk opposite them. Well maintained boots peeked out from under her dress. Her blue eyes widened slightly, as if shocked at his attention. She could’ve been Frija’s older sister. Or her mother.

“Hello,” she waved at him, then coughed into her hand.

“Hello,” Ranvir said. Colors rained, sputtered, burned, sparked, soared, crept, and flew through him in a confusing indecipherable burst. “Shiri.”

“Ranvir.”

Es had slowly been taking steps back, but Ranvir noted his eyes had taken on a soft rainbow glow and he didn’t turn away. He’d have been more irritated if he couldn’t see the tree he’d accidentally brought down, as well as the cracked trunk of the one he’d hit in a fit of anger.

“I…” she said, then licked her lips. “Isgerd had originally intended to come with this offer herself, but I figured we’d need to talk… eventually.”

“Come with what?”

“An exhibition match. Something to entertain the village. You’re a space-tethered and trained in combat, so you’d be skilled and safer than any other tethered in the Rime’s Shadow.”

“That sounds fine,” Ranvir said.

Shiri nodded twice, grabbing a tablet and looking it over. “Oh, I forgot to mention it’s tonight, though it can be postponed if that doesn’t fit…”

Ranvir waved a hand dismissively. “This evening is fine.”

“Good, good,” she looked over the tablet for a moment. Then another. She stared at it for long enough that Ranvir grew certain she wasn’t actually reading it. Then, finally, she holstered it with a shaking hand. “I’m sorry.”

Ranvir nodded. His body felt distant, yet firm. Like he was grabbing an anchor he couldn’t see, holding him in place. The feelings had grown distant, muted in color. He was only barely aware of his surroundings. “Me too.”

Shiri stirred and took a half step forward. You could still march a caravan through the space between them, yet the gesture stood out to Ranvir. “Why? Are— I was the one who…”

Ranvir nodded. “I can’t imagine that was a good feeling.”

She seemed lost for words for a moment before sputtering, “That’s not really the point! I left her on you. Put the weight of our responsibility on your shoulders.”

Ranvir cocked his head to the side in a motion that seemed to unnerve her. “I’m not saying I understand it, but I can empathize with it.”

“This is all wrong.” Shiri threw her hands up. “You were supposed to be mad. I didn’t want to leave her. I just didn’t know what to do. Then Isgerd came with all her baggage and it all became too scary.”

“What does Isgerd have to do with anything?” Es muttered. Ranvir jerked his head, only then remembering his presence. The warp tethered frowned as he considered.

“Her husband was a soldier,” Shiri said. “He died a few months after Laila was born, leaving Isgerd alone with their child.”

“What did you want?” Ranvir asked. He was coming down from the weird off-kilter feeling and his emotions were a hailstorm of havoc.

“I just came to apologize,” she hesitated then, scratching at her lip. “Can I see her?”

“No,” Ranvir said certainty. “Not if you will not be a part of her life. I’m not introducing Frija to her mother, only to take it away.”

“But I want to be a part of her life.”

Ranvir’s head jerked to the side. “I don’t believe you.”

Shiri opened her mouth to speak, but let it close again. She slumped, her breath leaving her in a rush, and she deflated into herself. Staring at her feet, she said, “That makes sense.” She sniffed and Ranvir could hear her stifled crying.

He looked at Es, who was distinctly uncomfortable, and nodded for him to follow. They walked out of the forest in silence, before his friend finally spoke. “Wasn’t that too harsh?”

“I don’t care,” Ranvir said, shrugging. Sensing Es’ intense stare, he felt the need to elaborate. “If Shiri’s serious, she’ll try again. So, if she doesn’t, I have made the right decision.”