Lucian hardly slept that night. Besides his thoughts keeping him awake, the dilapidated A/C unit was fighting a losing battle. The old thing rattled like a dying beast and seemed to succeed only in blowing warm, humid air.

  As usual, nightlife crowds packed the canal ten floors below Lucian’s window. Dozens of clubs and dive bars pulsed with dance music. Coupled with the drunken shouting, the tall buildings lining the canal only served to echo the cacophony below.

  He faded in and out before sunlight came through the window. Morning Levs zoomed over his building, rattling the walls and floors.

  Lucian forced himself up, preparing for the day ahead. His face in the mirror looked worn and mournful; his brown eyes were listless. Going back to the Health Authority was the last thing he wanted to do. At least all this would be put to rest today.

  He and his mother ate in silence, each occupied with their separate thoughts. Lucian hardly tasted the food.

  When they left, the outside light was near-blinding, reflecting off the azure canal below. The canyons between the shabby buildings were heat traps, especially in the summer, and today promised to be as hot as any other.

  Within the hour, the Lev let them off at the revolving doors of the Health Authority. Another few minutes saw them to the fiftieth floor. The frigid waiting room was empty of patients.

  At the appointed time, the same nurse as yesterday opened the sliding door to the back offices. “Lucian Abrantes?”

  Her tone today wasn’t as friendly, but Lucian pretended not to notice. The nurse showed them into Dr. Ross’s office. The beautiful doctor was waiting for them, her features a perfect, neutral mask.

  “Good afternoon,” she said. “Thank you for coming in today.”

  As if he had a choice. “The results?”

  “The test results are in,” she confirmed. “I won’t mince words. We are detecting clear signs of metaphysical emergence.”

  The words hung in the air, and Lucian felt nothing about them. It was as if this was happening to someone else and not to him.

  “It must be a mistake,” his mother said. “I’m his mother. I’ve never seen him once act like . . . one of them.”

  “Unfortunately, this isn't a mistake,” Dr. Ross said. “We analyzed two dreams during the lab yesterday, Mrs. Abrantes. Both showed clear signatures of meta-energy.”

  His mother was looking at him for an explanation. "You only mentioned one dream.”

  Lucian remained silent and kept his eyes on the desk in front of him.

  His mother turned back to the doctor. “How was it clear?”

  “The screen went black during the second dream,” Dr. Ross said quietly. “In every case that happens, it is one hundred percent consistent with metaphysical emergence. Even if—special abilities—haven’t surfaced yet, it’s a good thing we’ve detected it this early. There’s still hope if we work quickly.”

  Lucian just wanted her to get to the point.

  “With proper training, the ill effects of metaphysical emergence can be delayed, perhaps even indefinitely. We need to enroll your son in an academy as soon as possible.”

  “Of course,” his mother said.

  Lucian’s skin went cold. How could this be possible? He was a mage. It was unreal, something that only happened to people in holos. If what he knew about mages was true, then he was going to die. His powers would one day rot him from the inside out. That was what had happened to the Starsea Mages during the Mage War, the only reason they had lost their rebellion against the League.

  Both Dr. Ross and his mother were looking at him, waiting for some sort of reaction. Dr. Ross stared in pity, while his mother had unshed tears in her eyes. But Lucian had no idea how to react to this. It was almost enough to want to give up on the spot.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  Lucian couldn’t bring himself to look at either of them as he made his response. “I don’t see how this can be possible. I’ve shown no real signs of . . . you know. What happens to mages. Going crazy, rotting skin . . .”

  “The speed of the degenerative condition, known as the fraying, varies,” Dr. Ross explained. “Some experience strong symptoms from the very start. Some take years to develop. If there’s anything I’ve learned, metaphysical emergence can happen to anyone, though when it does happen, it’s usually to those around your age. All we can do is control the outcome as best we can. The only way to do that is to receive training at a League-sanctioned mage academy.”

  Lucian was deaf to it all. He was a mage, one of those unfortunate souls destined to die an agonizing death as an unknown power burned through him. And it would burn until it took everything from him. His dreams and ambitions, first. Then his skin and organs. And finally, his very sanity when the sickness reached his brain.

  “And there is no cure?” his mother asked. “Someone has to have figured something out!”

  “The condition can only be managed,” Dr. Ross said. “Unfortunately, modern medicine is no help. The next step is for your son to apply for training at an academy. Unfortunately, it’s the only legal occupation for a mage within League borders. Several mage academies have been set up around the Worlds, but the closest is on Volsung. There, your son can train to become a Talent, to use his powers to serve the League of Worlds.”

  “A Talent?” Lucian asked. “Is that some kind of mage soldier, or something?”

  “That’s . . . not clear,” Doctor Ross said, somewhat evasively. “Suffice it to say, their training methods offer the only known safeguard against fraying. From what I understand, they do it through careful control of their . . . abilities. Many of these Talents can live to old age.”

  “And Volsung is the closest?” his mother asked.

  “That’s right. Your son must appeal directly to the Transcends there. They are the highest-ranking mages in the Worlds.”

  Volsung was one of the First Worlds, and only a single Gate jump away. Of course, Lucian realized that even a single Gate jump was a journey of about a month. Interstellar travel was expensive, far beyond what he and his mother could casually afford.

  “You guys told me the odds are one in a thousand with advanced testing,” Lucian said. “And only one in twenty million people is a mage in the first place. I just don’t see how I can be so . . . unlucky.”

  “Lucian,” his mother said, “as difficult as it is, this is the only option.”

  “Voyages to Volsung set out from Sol Citadel daily,” Dr. Ross said. “The government can help you secure a no-interest loan if you need help. Assuming you can get to Volsung, it’s a matter of making it to the Academy itself. It won’t be easy, but it is certainly possible. I can send a light-message ahead so they know to expect you.”

  Lucian could only shake his head. “Do I not get to decide anything? Where are the other academies?”

  “There are two other League-sanctioned academies,” Dr. Ross said. “There is Irion, four Gates away. And Mako, seven Gates away.” She watched Lucian closely. “Travel time and expenses preclude those from being considered, but if for some reason Volsung were not possible, those would be your next option. Planetary law dictates you have one month to make arrangements and get off-world.”

  Lucian was well aware of that. “What about mage-friendly worlds?”

  “There’s no such thing,” Dr. Ross said. “Some worlds do have more permissive laws regarding mages, but even so, they are not allowed to live among the general population. The closest one is Halia, which is two gates away.”

  “That’s where my brother, Ravis, lives,” his mother said. “Maybe he can go to him for help.”

  “Well, mages aren’t allowed just anywhere on Halia,” Dr. Ross said. “They must live in approved communes, which they can’t leave, nor can they have visitors. It is a lower quality of life than at an academy, in my opinion.”

  That left one other option—leaving the League entirely. Frontier Space beyond the Border Worlds was not only prohibitively far away but also undeveloped and dangerous.

  As much as Lucian hated to admit it, Dr. Ross was right. Even if he chose not to go for training, most worlds in the League banned mages outright. They were simply too dangerous, especially once the fraying took hold.

  “What’s to stop me from just striking out on my own?” Lucian asked.

  He knew the question was stupid before Dr. Ross even answered. “Well, your identity is known. Good luck getting on any ship without getting flagged. And even if you were to convince someone to stow you away, your powers would manifest eventually. Without training, they would kill you. But even if you somehow managed that, Academy Talents specially trained to detect mages would hunt you down. It’s easy to imagine what happens then.”

  She didn’t have to say it. The mage prison moon of Psyche would be his fate, if not outright death.

  Lucian noted impatience in Dr. Ross’s features. She wanted to wrap this meeting up.

  “Are you sure my brother couldn’t help him on Halia?” his mother asked. “He’s an executive for Caralis Intergalactic, a very rich man.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Dr. Ross said. “Again, contact between normals and mages is forbidden unless a mage has become a Talent for the League. In my professional opinion, the Volsung Academy is Lucian’s best option. It offers the most opportunities for a long and fulfilling life.”

  “And how much does it cost?” his mother asked.

  “Assuming you can get there, and he’s accepted, nothing,” Dr. Ross said. “The Academy’s costs are subsidized by the League. Travel there, however, isn’t covered.”

  “This is bullshit,” he said.

  Before either the doctor or his mother could say anything, Lucian ran from the office.