The winter sun clung low to the edge of Vorthryn's horizon, barely breaking the grip of snow and ash that draped the city like a ceremonial shroud. The capital was quiet—not in fear, but in preparation.
Border skirmishes with Cairn forces had become more common, more missions were being conducted, and the scouts were busier than ever. It was an unspoken understanding between scouts that at this growing rate of missions, they would need more members.
Reva and Ajax walked side by side along the eastern wall, frost crunching beneath their boots. The morning air bit through their coats, but neither seemed to notice.
Where once they'd been approached with skepticism—children thrust into positions too large for them—now came silent nods.
Veterans turned toward them with recognition. Younger scouts stepped aside, eyes wide but respectful. Even the Tribunal had paid their respects to the pair for their recent successful operation.
"I think we're famous," Reva said under her breath.
Ajax shrugged. "Not famous. Not yet. Just… visible."
"Visible's a start."
They reached the training grounds. Fresh snow had been cleared from the sparring ring, where a few early recruits warmed up with half-hearted drills. A few turned as Ajax and Reva entered—and quickly stopped moving altogether.
Ajax stepped into the ring, unwrapping the cloth from his wrists.
"You know what I'm thinking right now?" he asked.
Reva stretched her shoulders, smirking. "That you've been overdue for a beating?"
He tossed her a training staff. "Close. I can't think of a time in recent memory we've really sparred."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
Their duel began slow, almost casual—measured strikes, balanced footwork, the quiet confidence of warriors who knew their bodies and their power. Reva struck first, her form shaped by the Pulse Gate's flow. Every step, every pivot was fluid and decisive. She wasn't guessing anymore. She was hunting.
Ajax responded with minimal motion—no wasted effort, no theatrics. His Spiral Core pulsed inside him like a second heartbeat, sharpening his reflexes to inhuman levels. He didn't draw on active magic. His control was enough.
They clashed again and again. Reva landed strikes, feints, reversals—but Ajax adapted with frightening speed. Then, without warning, he shifted stance—redirected a blow, twisted her staff, and disarmed her in one smooth motion.
Reva blinked.
Then she laughed softly. "I hate how easy you make that look."
"You almost had me."
"Almost doesn't cut it."
From the edge of the ring, a voice piped up:
"That was incredible."
They turned.
A young boy stood near the chalk circle, wrapped in a too-large scout coat. His dark hair was wind-mussed, and his boots didn't match. But his eyes were serious—older than his years.
"You new?" Ajax asked.
The boy nodded. "Elyr. Just started. I wasn't supposed to be watching, but I had to see it."
Reva raised an eyebrow. "And why weren't you supposed to be watching?"
"I'm currently supposed to be cleaning… mopping the mess hall to be specific."
"Have you got any physical training yet?" Ajax asked, interested.
"Not yet," Elyr said. "But I study. A lot. That move you did—where you twisted the momentum against her—I didn't even know that was possible."
Ajax studied him. "Why did you join the Scouts, kid? It's not something you join because it's cool. It's something you join because somebody has to do it. So let me ask you again. Why did you join the Scouts?"
The boy hesitated. "I want to protect people. Like you two did. That's it."
Ajax nodded slowly while his lips curled into a hopeful smile. "Come tomorrow. Same time. I'll show you what I can."
Elyr's face lit up with a quiet pride, not joy—like a boy who'd made a promise to himself and found the first step to keeping it.
Then he turned and left.
Later, Ajax returned to his dormitory and paused.
There, on the desk, sat a book.
Black leather. No title. No seal. No note.
He opened it.
And nearly dropped it.
The pages were handwritten—but the content was staggering. Theoretical work Ajax had never seen. Diagrams explaining mana-flow compression through the body and multi-aspect harmonics. Mana core resonance notations more advanced than anything he'd even begun to consider. The margin notes were equally brilliant—skeptical, bold, precise.
It wasn't just genius. It was clarity. It was someone who saw the world differently.
And Ajax recognized that kind of sight.
He sat down, flipping through the pages slowly.
There was only one person in this fortress who could've written something like this.
The prince.
He didn't say the name aloud.
But he knew.
The prince had sent that book to Ajax to help him in developing his own mysterious mana core. Ajax planned on using it to develop his unique mana spiral.
That night, Reva and Ajax were summoned to the west wing of the Tribunal.
The room was dim—blackstone walls lit by a single brazen fire. Karian stood at the far end, his arms folded. He was not alone.
A Cairn envoy waited beside him, robed in soft gray, eyes sharp as glass.
"We have reason to believe," the envoy said, voice smooth and even, "that your scouts encountered unusual magic at the edge of the wilds. Soul-linked phenomena. Possibly cross-system fusion."
Reva tensed hearing this.
Karian's expression was like carved stone. "They encountered cruelty. Nothing more."
The envoy smiled faintly. "We'd appreciate honesty."
Karian didn't blink. "You've already had it."
Tension built in the room like rising pressure beneath a sealed dome.
The envoy inclined his head. "Then I'll report your silence."
Karian nodded. "You do that."
That night, the envoy sent word back to Cairn.
And the Chamber of Elders convened.
The crystalline council hall glowed dimly beneath a dome of starlit glass. Seven seats. Seven voices. The carved leyline map at the center shimmered with muted power.
Eldric, the High Arcanist of Velan, sat at the head, brows furrowed.
Thessar, the ogre representative from Drakarim, slammed a heavy fist onto the armrest.
"My prison camp is gone," she said. "Torn apart by scouts with magic no one understands. The captain I had sent to lead the camp was found dead with scars from multiple unique weapons."
Jorra, the Stoneshade mystic, clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "The Scouts razed the prison? How can you be sure it wasn't the Veil?"
"The Veil don't leave bodies," Thessar confirmed. "All they leave is the memory of what used to be. And the multiple weapon wounds found on the body point towards there being multiple attackers. That's not how the Veil operates."
Marwen, the Stormport consul, narrowed his eyes. "What magic was it?"
"No clue," said Thessar. "No trace of mana was left behind, no weapons were left behind, no bodies of the scouts were left behind. It's like the proof disappeared."
Ithana, the feathered scholar from Curium, spoke gently. "The report from the envoy mentioned that one of the prisoners was behaving strangely prior to the attack. Perhaps they played a role in it?"
Liora, the moonmage from Sylvarra, shook her head. "If that's all we got, then that's where we have to start."
And then Aric stood.
He spoke slowly, carefully.
"I warned you all what would happen if we kept moving forward without releasing the truth to the public," he said. "Valern soldiers are dangerous. Their augmentation magic makes them more suited for combat than traditional Cairn mages."
Eldra, the elder of Moonwood, frowned. "So what do you think we should do then, Bloodwright?"
"I suggest we prepare," Aric said, replying to his title. "Not for battle. But for change."
Thessar's voice was iron. "No, we should crush them before those termites spread."
"And if we do," Aric asked softly, "what will we say to the public when we inevitably have more casualties than they? We might win the war, but it'll come at a cost."
The room fell silent.
Eldric finally spoke.
"Keep your eyes on Valern. Double our surveillance. No direct engagement yet."
He looked at Aric.
"But if war comes—so be it."
Aric bowed slightly.
But in his eyes, there was no agreement.
Only patience.
Back in Vorthryn, Ajax sat at his desk once more. The mysterious book lay open to a page filled with theorized resonance patterns—concepts even he didn't fully grasp.
His Spiral Core pulsed softly in his chest, like a whisper in the dark.
And in the silence that followed, he set a goal.
Using the information provided to him by the prince, he will unlock the second circle to his Spiral Core.
His second ring.
And he will do so by his ninth birthday, less than a month away.