Ranvir felt at the strange tension surrounding Laila. Something had glommed onto her native presence and pushed through into her. Like a strange mortar sealed invisibly against her chest.

There was no will behind it, neither mind nor intent. A completely inanimate, purely spiritual object. And he could sense her power. The fledging divot of a warp manipulator, child-like yet dangerous.

She was a pre-stage and quite strong, for all that mattered at this point. Her power might dip as the construct was worn down. Her soul didn’t worry at it like something alive, but it was still a perpetual grind. The work of erosion as removal.

But both he was confident they could set her up properly. Whether she’d already been suitable for a tether was impossible to know. But if it worked on everyone, then there was no need to know.

The halls were quiet at this point. Since Ranvir knew he’d be spending a large amount of time going over the results of Kirs’ ritual, he’d given everyone time off. Even gone so far to set up travel to Elusria-City.

He didn’t want to keep a permanent bridge to the city as he didn’t want the Queen to have too tight a hold on him.

The Shiny King Lordship in Belnavir had found his gateway, and setup a little boundary around it. Tracing the knife’s edge of too much or little force. Just enough that Ranvir knew he was aware and keeping track, not so much that Ranvir felt the need to act.

Of course, his gate in Korfyi led onto the road to Eriene. He’d initially considered letting it open onto his home, but decided he didn’t want his students running on top of him.

That just left Elusria-City, to which there was no permanent way. He simply neither trusted nor liked Minul, and her students had been picked for war. He was certain she would continue to use them as such once they were free.

Hopefully, he could instill a bit of goodness into them, but he honestly didn’t have high hopes. He wasn’t the most sociable or compelling person at the best of times. He’d been working on it, due to Vasso adding complications to his life. Often, it was easier to act stupid rather than come to a decision.

Laila started and jumped. “Something just broke off.”

Ranvir focused on her, his senses sharp and focus returned. Nothing more happened, thankfully.

She slowly relaxed. Her head slumped towards the ground, letting her loose, still wet, hair fall in front of her face. She inhaled deeply and looked up, pulling the mane out of her eyes. “Is there anything more I can do?” she asked. “I don’t think we’re achieving much at this point.”

Ranvir smiled at her, then looked to his partner in this situation.

“I think you’ve done wonderfully, Child,” Kasos said, giving her a grandfatherly smile. “There is one more thing I’d like for you to try, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Sure,” there was a feverish light in Laila’s eyes as she spoke. “Anything.”

After gaining her powers, almost specifically as she wanted them, a new intensity burned within her. Ranvir was sure some of it was simply euphoria at the ability to follow in her mother’s footsteps. The way her fingers were spread out tight, pushing into the cushion on her bench, her lips drawn into a tight, almost painful smile. She was pushing her spirit and enjoying it.

Ranvir might get it in a way. She had been practicing with what amounted to a sleeping-limb for months and now it had suddenly woken up and she’d discovered just how flexible it was. However, stuffing her spirit full of power, sealing it to her, and then testing the limits of that seal was a lot for anyone to take.

“Shake it,” Kasos said simply. “Shake your tether-space as much as you can.”

Laila’s face dropped. “But won’t that… Can it not break?”

Kasos paused, as if genuinely considering her question. “Maybe. But we need to know the limits of the seal. Odds are that your spirit training with Ranvir secured your soul’s ability to handle the tether, anyway.”

Laila slumped slightly, her shoulders rising, and her hands traveling into her lap. Ranvir was sure he even her one leg twitch to rise on the bench as well. However, she contained her initial reaction somewhat.

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“I think I’m too tired to continue,” she said, as if confessing to a sin.

“That’s okay,” Kasos said quickly, offering another grandfatherly smile. “You’re a strong girl and have done very well. Congratulations on your new power. It is a very great responsibility.”

She looked at him through her once-more hair shrouded face, then nodded. “Thank you for the help as well.”

“Not a worry, Child,” he said, waving her off with a quick hand. “Go, I’m sure Vasso is dying to know how it went.”

A smile lit on her face and she jumped to her feet, swaying and catching herself against the table. Ranvir suddenly realized why they spent so much time sitting on pillows outside at the academy. Without the bench’s back to support hers, she would’ve been forced to confront her own exhaustion, rather than getting support elsewhere.

“Be careful,” Ranvir said, as she reached the door. “Vasso’s vulnerable and your power’s dangerous.”

Laila paused in the door. “I wasn’t…” but she trailed off, seeing the look on both Ranvir and Kasos’ faces. “Okay,” she mumbled, then shut the door.

“That went well,” Kasos said, stretching.

“Was that on purpose?” Ranvir asked. “Putting her in a vulnerable position and then telling her how dangerous her power was?”

Kasos cocked his head at him. “Warning her. Warning her that her power is dangerous.” Then he continued with a gleam in his eye, “and of course it was. Children are impressionable, but can be forgetful. Make it a moment she’ll remember and there are only a few ways I know of to do that. Embarrassment, which I’d rather avoid. Vulnerability, which I think is preferable. And…”

Ranvir narrowed his eyes. “Violence, which needs to be avoided.”

Kasos nodded in agreement, then pushed himself up to stand and yawned. “I’ll write this down, then I think I need a nap.”

Ranvir snorted. “To be so lucky, Oldman.”

Kasos just laughed. “I have it pretty good, don’t I?”

Ranvir spent a few minutes organizing his notes before heading out to find Kirs. She was supposed to be celebrating the success of her ritual, but had asked him to come with his findings and thoughts the moment he could.

He passed through empty halls and lonely passageways as he headed towards the temporary bridge he’d created in the front yard of the school, leading to the capital.

“I’m not sure,” Dovar said.

Ranvir paused in his steps. The voice was distant but in his path. Through the lounge, he thought. Perception was sharpening his hearing, and Dovar’s next words came clearer.

“It’s difficult to know. I think it’s pity. I think he’s just worried I’ll slide back. That’s why he’s given me so much. I can’t handle it, not really. I’m not a teacher, I don’t know how to- nor what to teach.”

Ranvir slowly began walking toward the lounge. He was wrong. That wasn’t why Ranvir had given him a teacher’s position. Dovar could rise to the challenge. He was the greatest tethered talent this country had seen in centuries, greater even than Esmund. Dovar was near unparalleled in raw natural ability.

Given time and effort, he’d show himself to rise above the other students, Ranvir was sure of it. And he wanted him capable of rationalizing and explaining his process on that path. Teaching was a skill, sure as any other. If Dovar learned now, his talent would run down the ages, affecting thousands of students in the future.

Ranvir’s steps faltered. But should he confront Dovar? Listening to him talk, Ranvir could hear the vulnerability, the weakness in his voice. Would approaching him at this point even help? Or would it only serve as fuel for his insecurities? A looming, peeping friend who jumps the moments Dovar shows weakness.

Slowly, Ranvir started walking again. Letting his steps echo down the hall. He tried to tune out the words of Dovar’s partner, ignoring their talk. His friends needed to be allowed their privacy, even if they were in a public space. Accounting for Ranvir’s Perception was difficult. Said power meandered back to the rest of his body, spreading out his senses once more.

By the time Ranvir turned the corner to the lounge, he’d completely lost the thread of the conversation and they’d heard his footsteps coming. It was Morphos, Dovar had been talking to. The old war veteran offering a listening ear. Ranvir didn’t think he’d said more than a couple sentences, simply letting Dovar vent.

“Ranvir,” Dovar said, getting to his feet. “Could we talk for a moment?”

Blinking, Ranvir slowed down and nodded. “Sure, what’s it about?” He couldn’t be coming to talk with me about teaching already, could he? Ranvir thought.

Dovar licked his lips and approached. “I wanted to set up a meeting with Asny, I thought maybe you could help me. You know, with transport and such.” The words came out in a rush and there was a slight flush to Dovar’s expression.

“Sure,” Ranvir said, after taking a moment to process the flood of words. He refrained from mentioning the currently freely available bridge from here to his own family grounds. “Do you think you have time in a couple weeks?”

Dovar nodded and thanked him before retreating to his seat. Ranvir looked at him for a moment before nodding and continuing onward.

“Hey, Ranvir,” Pashar said, moments after he’d closed the door to the lounge behind him. She walked up to him in an undershirt and a pair of trousers. If not for Limclea’s more relaxed sensibilities, he would’ve boggled at such a sight. She held a bundled up cloth in her hand, which she slapped to his chest as she passed by close enough to brush against him. “Thanks for letting me borrow the shirt,” she said, oddly loudly. Then whipped around, her wet hair slapping his chest.

What was that about? Ranvir wondered, looking down at his shirt. How did she- he noticed her then, peering around the corner, fire in her eyes? Estrid was watching him with a venomous intensity.

Ranvir turned to look after Pashar, only to find Shiri standing at the opposite end of the passage. Shaking his head, Ranvir growled and tossed his shirt into pocket-space. He hurried out of the school before either woman could get to him.

Dammit, Pashar, what are you playing at? He cursed internally.