Ranvir winced, glancing at the harsh light of the sun. Belnavir’s light by far more intense than the other planes. From the distant sphere where he’d recruited from, it had seemed a casual light. No harsher than most days in Elusria. But now, on the closest sphere, or planet as the locals called it, he could tell there were still kilometers to the sun.

At least as much as he’d already traveled, if not more. Which made their sun the most potent work of fire mana he’d ever seen. Yet, he could hardly sense it at all. But that was not the end of Belnavir’s strange behaviors.

Each of the planets were smaller than Korfyi, by a non-insignificant amount. Yet, if he’d put them together, they’d be many times larger. It made him wonder about them, so far removed from the standard. It made him think it almost had to be intentional. Though he wasn’t exactly an encyclopedia of knowledge on planes, he still found it strange that two out of three followed the same pattern.

There was a chance that Belnavir was the norm and Latresekt had simply guided him to something familiar. Yet Ranvir doubted it. Belnavir felt different from the others, closer to some… he wanted to call it an ideal, yet that didn’t feel quite right. It fit together too well. Designed by hand rather than eroded by wind.

Vednar felt like an old space, enduring and strong. Yet there was an edge to it. An old wound that had never quite healed right. Perhaps it never recovered at all. Bleeding yet standing.

Korfyi was vast and older still, Ranvir was sure of it. But mangled in someway. Ranvir would’ve called it ruined, yet that couldn’t be. It had stood for thousands of years, at the very least. Occasionally, he’d caught glimpses of something broken, when he’d gazed the Lines. An immense pressure bowing Korfyi until it breaks.

Belnavir wasn’t like that. Each of the ‘planets’ carried a knotting point at their center. Too deep for Ranvir to sense, but he was certain his read was correct. Each of these points were stabilized and sustained, tying into the center of the plane. The fierce ball of fire and light roaring and illuminating the spheres.

Belnavir was ancient, but he had trouble determining exactness. On a scale similar to Korfyi, but without any of the degradation. If Ranvir didn’t know better, he’d say it was self-sustaining. Or something close to it.

He rubbed a hand over his face, wiping away sweat. Perched on top of a protruding rock on the side of the mountain, he overlooked the land. This closest planet was almost completely uninhabited. The few he did meet asking him to take them away.

Yet, it was also the planet with the highest preponderance of fire mana. Stretching out his wings, he let them catch the breeze flowing around the tower of stone and heat. A deeply unpleasant smell filled the air, rotten eggs, yet he could not allow himself to reduce Perception. He’d found at least two predators who hid their scent in the stench.

A dry breeze rustled his feathers, tearing a few of the crispier ones off. The limbs felt sore and he couldn’t stifle a wince at the sensation. The fires hadn’t been so bad, but the spitting lizard had set fire to his shirt without ever hitting him. While powerful, it had been nowhere near as strong as Graywing, just highly specialized and making good use of its natural mana environment.

In the distance, Ranvir heard a loud explosion. A black cloud belched from the mountain’s top. Sand hidden in crevices and cracks rushed around his feet, building into the defensive sphere of Sand Bastion. Yet he sensed nothing coming down. Finally, he dismissed it.

Not his problem. He didn’t need to go to the top, anyway. Scaling the mountainside was not that difficult, but time consuming. He had the raw strength and stamina, it would simply take him time.

He could’ve used his space powers and track down the item instantly, yet that would take the purpose of his trek out of it. Kirs had already attempted to intercept him twice. Both using her ritual-based travel-pockets, targeting his beacons. It had been simple to send her back.

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Harder had been the ones who attempted to meet at his home, though he’d sent them back as well. Attempted because he’d still not met with them. Keeping them away had taken a little more effort, however. Mostly Amalia, whose Murk mana was difficult to pin down.

Yet they’d gotten the message. Some, like Ayvir, took a little longer and others, Kasos, got it immediately. He hadn’t set foot in Vednar for nearly a week and was all the better for it.

Once more, he felt his teeth set at the thought of what he’d left behind. Perhaps, he was not yet the better, but he would be. Re-setting his feet, Ranvir pushed off, further up the mountain.

Pashar, still attempted to play his emotions like a fiddle, moving behind his back. Deciding what was and wasn’t best. No matter how he’d tried, she couldn’t help herself. Unable to stop meddling fingers. She’d not even lasted that long. From the audience with the Queen, where she’d snuck in revisions about where the school would be, to her constant manipulation with Shiri and Estrid.

Worse was him playing the fool. He’d cut her off after she’d manipulated while he’d been crippled, yet she’d somehow snuck her way back. Maybe I should’ve left her on Korfyi, he thought bitterly.

He paused in front of a narrow gap; his senses told him how it opened up further inside. Then wormed around, meandering upwards until… this was it. Grinning, he squeezed inside. It was tight, and he actually had to spread his wings wide so they didn’t take so much space against his back. Dark rock scraped his bare chest and back as he shimmied sideways into the gap.

Estrid bothered him as well. He’d hoped to have made himself clear, yet he apparently hadn’t. Hopefully, she knew how he felt now. At least then someone would. No, Estrid caused more confusion than anger. It was Pashar who set him off.

The rocks narrowed, bits cracking and breaking off as he pushed forth. And he was pushing now. The outcroppings would’ve torn a normal person’s skin at this point. As always, he persisted.

He knew her at this point. He shouldn’t expect anything different from her. Yet, somehow, he’d let himself be fooled. Willing to let it slide when she was making beneficial political moves.

That’s why he’d brought her to the Sleeping Sons in the first place. He’d have avoided it if he’d known they’d mostly talk themselves into it. No need to let her think she was more important than she was.

Or was that just his emotions talking? He’d not been paying attention during their meals at the mansion. Checked out and letting the others discuss. He remembered animosity from their second, but he couldn’t even remember his name.

His wing bent painfully, hitting the wall just out of sight. Cursing and wincing, he slowed, pulling free of the narrowest part of the stone. Red scratch marks ran length wise over his chest, a few droplets of blood pebbling up. Perhaps he should’ve made himself more resistant.

She’d been since a girl to see people as tools and levers to use and pull to get what she wished. Or perhaps what she needed. It sounded like her master had made her fight for her life and what she needed often. If he trusted her word.

That was what it came down to. She was a perfunctory tethered and a less than acceptable Braced. Yet, she was as much better at maneuvering the social-landscape as he was the mana-landscape.

Watching her teach made it clear she was only ever been acceptable with her mana, circumstances had handed her a strong skill-set through her teacher. Much like he’d gained the political capital of the school and what it would represent.

But she took liberties. Took things too far. If a noble hired someone to clean their house, no reasonable person would expect them to enter the treasury, even if they could. Nor should Pashar have free rein to mess with his life and personal relationships.

The cavern opened up further, becoming downright comfortable. Hidden from that big blazing ball in the sky, it actually felt cooler in the tunnel. Staler too.

Pashar had meddled. He’d brought her with him to meddle. It was her primary purpose. She was better at it than he was. Yet, she could not recognize where the lines were.

Ranvir stopped. He realized he was breathing harder than he should be. But he’d found it. In rubble it lay. It could’ve been any other stone, yet this one burned with mana.

Pulling out flat-carved rock with the space-glyph carved into it, he opened the space attached to it. Heat instantly rose a couple of degrees as the other items were exposed to the air. With sand, he scooped the fire-stone into the pocket and closed the space back up.

Yet, he’d passed out for nearly fourteen hours after returning home after his first night in Belnavir. And he hadn’t slept for more than a week before that. Estrid had even remarked on how tired he seemed.

For a minute, he rested an arm against the stone, eyes staring into space. A faint purple glow was the only light in the small dark space.