“Five affinities!” Vai exclaimed. “Heh. The runt of the litter’s finally growing up. You should be proud! Tahal's horns and tails, I know I am.”

  Caen, Zeris, and their uncle were floating in the morning sky before the great and magnificent form of Parthra. This was an instance of revisitation, and Caen had been externally observing the way his very existence had unraveled.

  “I am proud,” Caen said, looking away from the scene. “I intend to raise several more out of abjection in the coming weeks.” Passive augmentations would be very useful to him in the trials.

  “Well, your plans for the trials sound solid to me. The best place to amass points is in the first round. And with your unique advantage, I see you struggling much less than most competitors.” Vai laughed, rubbing his palms. “This is starting to get my business mind scheming. It’s been a few tournaments since I've taken on a broker persona. Oh, and speaking of which, there's some good news. I've confirmed that Old Man Gev is still in secluded meditation, so we won't have to worry about him poking around!”

  Caen let out a breath. “Ancestors. That is good news.”

  Gev had been the elder most invested in understanding Caen's abjection; this would have made him the hardest elder to deceive. As an expert in Filliation magic, Elder Gev possessed an extensive knowledge of bloodlines and how they interacted with each other.

  “I’m in touch with an elder who will endorse someone of my choosing,” Vai continued. “And on a separate note, I've named you as my primary aide. Hshnol is done setting everything up; I trust him with my life, and you've seen firsthand how reliable he is. He'll explain everything to you about your new role. With this, you'll have a cover that can stand up to scrutiny during the celebrations.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Vai.”

  “Wait, doesn't this mean he'll have to handle paperwork?” Zeris asked.

  “Sadly, yes,” Uncle Vai said, sounding not at all sad. “Hshnol will certainly appreciate the help.”

  Caen didn't mind extra work. He turned back to continue observing the revisitation instance, which Vai had looped.

  “So you survived death in the Agtanji Plane, only to end up getting yourself killed in Parthra?” Vai said, laughing.

  “What?” Zeris asked. “Uncle Vai, we were trapped in the Odaton-plane Plane.”

  Caen turned to look at Vai, frowning. Agtanji was the name of the Plane where the centuries-long war between their country, Rialgar, and the fractured states of Yalam took place.

  “Agtanji has no night cycles,” Zeris said. Then she paused and looked at Caen, her eyes widening. “You said you saw something when we left the tunnels.”

  On the day that they'd been rescued from the Odaton Plane, Caen had looked back and seen what might have been mistaken for sunlight in the distance. So many things clicked into place in his mind. The Chancellery’s cause for secrecy, the oaths of silence.

  “Political nonsense,” Vai said, shrugging. He glanced at the looped instance of Caen's collapsing existence. “We've been at this for a while now. Is there a reason you wanted to revisit this specific memory?”

  “Flickering Soul-sense allows me to interrupt spells, and I've used it to dematerialize sprites before. Now that my soul is stronger, I'm trying to see if I can glean any further insights.”

  “You should talk to Hshnol then. This is similar to how Percipients use their aura. He’ll be able to help.”

  Caen exchanged a look with Zeris. “Uncle Vai, you knew he was a Percipient all this time?”

  Vai threw back his head and laughed. “What, you thought an Attuner could be my personal assistant? Ha!”

  *?*?*

  Caen sat across from Sh'kteiro in one of the contemplation halls in the Edict temple, observing the man's soul structure. The hall was empty, save for them, and illuminated by mirrors which reflected sunlight. A tray with an enchanted kettle and a pair of cups lay between them on the cool marble floor.

  A faint cloud of flowing light roiled off Sh'kteiro’s soul structure and stretched out in every direction. It resembled the sediments of a snuffed-out candle, if such a thing could fill up an entire room while glowing.

  “This is not what I imagined aura would look like,” Caen mused.

  “Those are not words I have ever heard any Attuner say,” Sh'kteiro replied, amused.

  Caen chuckled. “How far out can you spread your aura?”

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  “I can cover the entire temple with it.” He laughed. “Don't look so impressed. It gets weaker the farther out I stretch it.”

  Caen nodded. Very faint trails of smoke writhed on the periphery of Caen’s own soul structure. They were much frailer than Sh'kteiro’s and barely had any glow to them. Caen could perceive his aura now.

  He returned his attention to his uncle’s soul. It had taken him hours to locate a single affinity cluster due to how complex and different Teiro’s soul structure was. There were more elements, more depth, vibrance, and nuance to a mage's soul. Caen had needed to take breaks regularly, since viewing Teiro’s soul placed a significant demand on Caen's existence.

  Once again, he reached ethereally for his Divination magic affinity cluster and tried to conform it to Sh'kteiro's. But it remained rigid and inflexible.

  The same thing had happened when he'd tried to Mimic Sh’kteiro's aura.

  Maybe my soul isn't strong enough yet? Caen thought.

  “Thank you, Uncle Teiro. I appreciate you taking the time.”

  “It was only a few hours,” Sh'kteiro said, smiling as he took a sip of the still-hot tea. “And if I'm being honest, I don't mind the break in routine.” He set down his cup on the tray. “Since you've mastered that exercise I showed you, would you like me to give you a few pointers on your channeling?”

  *?*?*

  Days passed as Caen settled into his preparations. He’d managed to successfully cast sleep abeyance on himself, using his own affinity, thus buying himself more hours in the day to work with.

  He kept up his magical training with Vai and Vensha. Hshnol showed him the ropes of aide work every evening. It mostly came down to accounting and tracking numbers for multiple family businesses, as well as drafting summaries of reports.

  The unpleasantly complicated administrative procedures weren't frustrating enough to have him start pulling out his hair, but it was a close thing. Caen had never been more grateful to have the Dream-guarding passive augmentations.

  Besides the bureaucratic work, Hshnol helped Caen train his use of Soul-sense. It felt strange speaking about Mimicry with someone other than his family members, but Hshnol, for his part, expressed neither surprise nor curiosity at the revelation.

  The grand living room in Vai’s house rarely saw any use. Though that had changed in the past few days, as Caen had claimed a small corner of it to handle his aide work and practice sessions with Hshnol.

  Hshnol sat on the other end of Caen's desk, his maroon suit impeccable as always, a stemless pair of glasses sitting on his nose.

  Caen extended his existence towards the man as slowly and lightly as he could manage. Hshnol’s soul structure bloomed into Caen's awareness. The wispy trails of glowing light that represented his aura danced gently in proximity to the rest of his soul structure. It seemed no less vibrant than Sh'kteiro’s, but it was less distinct in some ways. Caen had taken this to mean that he simply lacked enough of a fundamental connection to Hshnol.

  “Yes, Ar’Caen Ereshta'al. That was noticeable.”

  “Can you give me another demonstration, please?” Caen asked.

  Hshnol nodded, and Caen observed the man's soul structure intently, specifically his aura. Nothing happened.

  “I just briefly interacted with your aura,” Hshnol said.

  Caen hadn't seen or felt any signs of that through Soul-sense. It'd been this way since they'd started these sessions days ago. “Could you scale up the intensity a little?”

  Hshnol nodded, and the next moment, Caen noticed a few glowing trails of aura extend towards him. Hshnol’s aura grazed Caen's, and Caen could feel some significant disturbances in his own soul structure. At the same time, a wave of discomfort swept over him. It felt as though someone had moved into his personal space in a confrontational manner.

  “Thank you,” Caen said. “Scale it up some more, please.”

  “Very well. But only for an instant.”

  Caen gasped as his breath caught in his throat. The air was thinner. His body felt paralyzed, his spirit held down by heavy weights. Trepidation and panic screamed in his mind.

  The sensations vanished immediately. “Are you alright, Ar’Caen Ereshta'al?”

  “I am alright, Hshnol,” Caen replied, still shaken by the experience. He let out a breath. “Thank you. Let me try again.”

  *?*?*

  Because of his busy schedule, Caen only came by the tri-clinic twice a week to help out. He never spent the whole day there either.

  He and a few younger healing auxiliaries assisted Brother Nabik with a Blood-healing procedure. Healer naMoon—scales and magnificent horns glittering in the examination room's light—kept an eye on them, looking over their shoulders as they worked and gently giving instructions when necessary.

  Once they'd finished the procedure, Brother Nabik began assigning new tasks to the auxiliaries.

  “Caen,” Healer naMoon said, beckoning with his hand and drawing Caen away from the group. “Deferring your sleep with magic has dangerous consequences, child.”

  Caen blinked in surprise. How had the man known? Caen had recently taken to casting a sleep abeyance spell at the end of his morning routine.

  “The side effects?” Caen asked. “I've been managing those well so far.”

  naMoon chuckled, shaking his head. “Speak with Nabik when you wake up; there are much safer ways to buy yourself time.”

  “When I… what? Healer naMoon, I don't—”

  The world tilted sideways as Caen blacked out.

  *?*?*

  He woke up in an examination room, feeling more refreshed than he had in weeks.

  Paying off as much sleep debt as he owed should have taken days, but Healer naMoon had clearly done more than just call in the debt. It was a chilling demonstration of power. Caen hadn't even known that such a thing was possible.

  The time construct in the corner of Caen's vision told him he'd been asleep for six hours. He huffed and swung his legs off the bed.

  Why is he so dramatic, though? He could have just explained.

  His backpack sat at the foot of the bed. Caen grabbed it and left to find Brother Nabik.

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