When Lucian woke up, all he wanted was to close his eyes and go back to sleep. That wasn’t an option, though. If he stayed in bed, his absence would be more than noted. It might even be enough to make the Transcends regret their decision to let him stay.

  The first thing he did was form his Focus; he found himself relying on that stillness to set aside all emotion. It wasn’t natural yet, but one day, he wouldn’t feel anything at all.

  That day couldn’t come soon enough.

  When the image of the stone finally collapsed, all the pain from yesterday hit him at once. His mother was dead, and they expected him to go on as if nothing had happened.

  After he washed his face, he joined the flow of Novices heading to the lawn for morning meditation. Another cold, gray dawn on Volsung was not far away.

  Outside, half the Novices had already gathered, kneeling toward the western sky. In the distance, the gray tinge of dawn hinted at the coming daybreak. The wind cut like a knife; it was even colder this morning than last night. Frost crunched under his boots, clinging to the short, dead grass stiffened by its embrace. He made his way toward the cliff, picking a spot distant from the others, and knelt on the cold, bare earth. He hated this posture—the ground always dug into his knees. He had the suspicion that it was meant to be uncomfortable. Like everything else here.

  He picked a spot near the front, close to the cliff, so if anyone looked his way, they couldn’t tell whether he was doing the meditation. He opted to watch the gray ocean, wondering what lay across it and dreaming about another life. A life free from the curse of magic.

  He closed his eyes and tried to picture his mother’s face. To his surprise, the image was not as clear as he would have liked. He remembered her from five years ago when she had come home from the Second Swarmer War. Even then, she had seemed younger and lighter on her feet. They had spent a whole year together before she deployed again. Looking back, despite all the fights they’d gotten into, it was probably the happiest part of his life. From that point on, they saw each other every six months or so . . . leading up to the final time.

  Tears ran down his face, which he wiped away. When he opened his eyes, the barest glimmer of the orange sun was peeking above the distant horizon. It cast its warm, gentle rays on his face—the only source of warmth on this forsaken island. That sun would rise later and later every day. The effect would be quite noticeable once the equinox had passed. He gazed over the cliff, toward the shoreline hundreds of meters below. There, the roiling surf crashed against edificial cliffs.

  Lucian started to think about what he wanted—from this place and himself. He was used to going it alone in life, but in the back of his mind, he always knew his mother would be there for him. He no longer had that safety. This was his only home now, and the thought of that was terrifying. This remote, northern island didn’t seem much better than a prison. Some Talents had been here for years, decades even, never having left. There were only eight Transcends, who had the power to leave at will, but there would never be more than eight. From the looks of things, it didn’t look as if they got out much either.

  By necessity, the life of a mage was a life of limitation. No one trusted them. As well they shouldn’t, after the Mage War fifty years ago.

  Lucian wondered what the point of it all was. Everything seemed to go back to what Vera had told him on the Burung. The Worlds, as bickering as they were, agreed on one thing. Everyone with the spark of the Manifold, every mage, needed to be contained. If he ever got off this island and anyone found out what he was, it would be his end.

  But then there was an anomaly: Vera. Somehow, she had eluded not only capture, but fraying, the threat that seemed so present here. Lucian was reminded of it almost every day. She claimed to know the answer to the fraying, discovered during her time with the Starsea Mages—an idea Transcend White didn’t even react to when he told his story during his admission.

  And now, Lucian would never discover that secret. He was the definition of a fool for coming here.

  He formed his Focus, the stone materializing in a black void. He found it easier today, his concentration not breaking as much. He tried to feel his ether, where the power of the Manifold had gathered. But his block was resolute, as impassable as it had been two days earlier.

  All he felt was hopelessness. How would he ever last here?

  While eating breakfast, Lucian felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Khairu.

  “Walk with me.”

  The other Novices quieted as he followed her into the hallway.

  She stopped a few meters away from the dining hall entrance.

  “Transcend Blue would like you to attend the entry hall lesson today.”

  “What about my instruction with Talent Pila?”

  “This takes precedence.”

  “Isn’t this a lesson for the Novices who have already streamed?”

  Lucian almost winced at those words. Of course he had streamed, just not in the right way.

  “I don’t make the rules,” she said, eyes narrowing. “Just go.”

  After that, she stalked off in typical Khairu fashion.

  Lucian went back to finish his meal, then headed to the entry hall.

  Once there, Lucian took up a spot a few meters away from the central brazier at the end of the line of Novices. Most of them were Tested—those who had been through the Trials at least once. Lucian, Emma, and Damian were the only Novices there, out of twelve or so, who weren’t. Rhea was among the group as well, along with others Lucian hadn’t talked to yet—the Novices who had been there for years, in some cases. They acted as if they were Talents in their own right, sitting at their own end of the Novice table.

  Transcend Blue stood in front of the central brazier, the fiery light dancing off his shimmering blue robes. Sunlight spilled through the open entrance. Lucian noted it still wasn’t very bright outside, even though it was sunny. At this hour on Earth, it would be midmorning by now, but here on Volsung, that point was still several hours away. Transcend Blue’s gaze hovered on Lucian just a moment too long.

  “Today,” Transcend Blue began, “we are going to touch on a subject most of you are already familiar with, with which you could do with a review.” The Novices’ chatter immediately stilled at these words. “Of late, we’ve had many promising new Novices who have yet to learn about the Aspects in full.”

  Lucian listened closely.

  “The Aspects can be thought of as different manifestations of the Manifold in the Shadow Realm.”

  Looking around, Lucian noticed that a good half of the Novices looked bored. This was an old lesson for them.

  “That said,” Transcend Blue continued, “there are Seven Aspects, represented by seven colors, each worn by a Transcend. That Transcend, as you might have guessed by now, is the recognized master of that Aspect.” He spread his arms. “I, for example, am Transcend Blue, the master of Binding. Binding is the ability to manipulate the very forces that bind matter together.”

  Transcend Blue retrieved a pen from the pocket of his cloak. He held it out in his hand, showing it to the line of Novices. Nothing happened at first. But after a moment, Lucian could see the pen giving off an ethereal blue glow. Transcend Blue’s hand also glowed blue. Not a moment later, the pen shot upward, hitting the ceiling far above at breakneck speed. There was a murmur of surprise as the pen remained rooted to the ceiling.

  “It’s bound,” Transcend Blue explained. “This is only one manifestation of Binding, of course. As two different things might be bound together, likewise they can be driven apart. The purpose of which I shall not show here, as it can be highly dangerous, because Reverse Binding the natural bonds of matter can lead to drastic consequences. That said, it is exceedingly difficult to accomplish, taking a great deal of magical power.”

  A young, fresh-faced Novice named Elia raised her hand demurely. She had arrived about a month after him and Emma, and like them, was Untested. The Talents must have seen her case as promising if she was being included here.

  “What are the other Aspects?” she asked primly.

  “I was getting to that,” Transcend Blue said. “The remaining six Aspects are Thermalism, represented by Red. There is Atomicism, represented by Orange. Then there’s Dynamism, represented by Yellow. There’s Radiance, the manipulation of light energy, represented by Green. Blue is Binding, which we’ve already discussed. Gray is Gravitonics. And Violet represents Psionics, the manipulation of kinetic and psychic energy.”

  So far, nothing was conflicting with what Vera had taught him, though he hoped Transcend Blue would go into greater depth.

  “So, in summary,” Transcend Blue continued, “there’s Thermalism, Atomicism, Dynamism, Radiance, Binding, Psionics, and Gravitonics. They are sometimes labeled Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Violet, and Gray Magic, due to the color of their streams when they manifest in the Shadow Realm. Which is, of course, our reality. Of course, all mages have some skill in each of these Aspects. But their natural inclinations usually lean them toward one in particular. When a Talent apprentices him or herself to a Transcend, they must decide, one year after ascension, which Aspect to dedicate themselves to. Usually, at the end of one year, the ascended Talent’s primary Aspect becomes abundantly clear.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  Emma raised her hand.

  “Yes?” Transcend Blue asked.

  “You said there are Seven Aspects, but there are eight Transcends. What about Transcend White?”

  Transcend Blue smiled, pleased at her astuteness. “White contains all the colors, no? White is our leader, and being our leader, she is the most powerful mage of our number. Transcend White is required to have a fair amount of skill in each Aspect. That said, Transcend White was formerly Transcend Violet before her ascension.”

  “There’s something else I’ve been wondering,” Elia asked without bothering to raise her hand this time.

  Lucian frowned. If he had spoken without being called on, he would have been chewed out.

  Elia smiled prissily. “I hope I’m not being disrespectful by asking, Transcend Blue, or showing my ignorance, but do the Transcends have personal names?”

  Transcend Blue regarded her for a moment. “Our names are one of the many things we give up upon ascension. It is a symbol of our death to our old selves and our commitment to the cause of the Academy and magekind.”

  That was something Lucian hadn’t even thought about. Lucian wondered what Transcend White’s name was.

  Transcend Blue moved on with the lesson. “As Novices, your training will consist of being paired off with Talents of all the Transcends. In this way, you’ll get a taste of all the Aspects, and learn which feels the most natural to you. Some of you may not even be able to stream certain Aspects at all, at least at first. But after several months of training, you’ll find some come easier than others, and one should be abundantly easier. That is how you identify your primary. Also, some Aspects as primaries are rarer than others. Psionics, for example, is the most common primary Aspect. It can be streamed by almost any mage, with rare exceptions. Atomicism, in contrast, is the rarest. Transcend Orange only has two Talents under his tutelage. When practicing, they must travel afar to stream. Atomicism is particularly dangerous.”

  That was easy to imagine. Nuclear weapons were still the most devastating weapons of war, and fusion power was the engine of the interstellar economy. Splitting or fusing atoms through magic had to have incredible and terrible consequences. Lucian could understand why the League wanted mages quarantined. Imagining what a frayed Atomicist was capable of was nothing short of horrifying.

  Transcend Blue continued. “The onus is upon us to be wise stewards of our powers. That’s why it’s so important that you never stream beyond your inner pool. The temptation will be there, as it will every day for the rest of your life. But that path leads to fraying, and we must do whatever we can to prevent that. If we don’t stream beyond our natural pool of ether, nor do we allow it to build up too much, we can walk the Path of Balance. Balance is the inner state where all is in inner harmony. Knowing where the line is, and how to walk it, is the most important component of your training. Our emphasis on the Path of Balance is why our mages are the longest-lived in the League.”

  With Transcend Blue saying that, it was hard for Lucian not to feel self-conscious about the previous night. He wondered what Aspect he’d used to destroy that iceberg. If it were kinetic force, then it would have been Psionic Magic. If he’d reversed the force binding molecules together, that would have been Binding. Or it might have been Thermalism. Superheating a part of the iceberg could have caused it to collapse on itself. And of course, it could have been a combination of all three, for all he knew.

  That was when Lucian noticed Transcend Blue looking at him directly, along with everyone else. When some of the Novices giggled, he realized he had been asked a question.

  “I’m sorry, Transcend Blue. I missed what you asked me.”

  “I asked, by way of example, what you believe caused the iceberg to collapse last night?”

  Had he read his thoughts? It was hard to keep a straight face, even if Transcend Blue’s expression was a mask of innocent inquiry.

  “I . . . I don’t know,” Lucian stammered. “I would think it was Psionics, but I can’t be sure.”

  Transcend Blue looked at Lucian a moment longer before turning to Damian.

  “And what do you think, Novice Damian?”

  Damian cleared his throat before answering, “Binding.”

  “And what makes you say that?”

  He shrugged. “For an object that size and distance, it seems unbelievable that it could be Psionics. Psionics works most effectively at close range, with the notable exception of telepathy, which can work at a great range under particular circumstances. So, it was Binding that drove the berg apart.”

  “Specifically, it was Reverse Binding,” Transcend Blue said. “Even given the difficulty of a Reverse Binding, it’s still easier than Psionics at that distance.”

  Damian nodded. “My thoughts exactly, Your Eminence.”

  Lucian didn’t believe Damian had known that for a second. He was just kissing ass.

  Transcend Blue surveyed the gathering. “Novice Damian is correct, and his logic is sound. Binding, unlike some other forms of magic, is quite effective at a distance. Psionic streaming, as Novice Lucian hypothesized, requires a shorter distance.”

  “So, who did it?” Damian asked. “That’s the more important question for me.”

  Transcend Blue ignored Damian. “Now, since it is my day to teach, we will focus on the Aspect of Binding.”

  “Wait,” Lucian said. “I have a question.”

  He almost winced at that outburst, especially as Transcend Blue glowered at the interruption. But Lucian just had to ask, especially keeping in mind the dream he had during his metaphysical exam. That seemed ages ago.

  “Yes, Novice?”

  “These Aspects,” Lucian said, feeling his heart race. “Are they anything physical?”

  Some of the Novices laughed at that. But he needed to know the answer. The Voice in the dream had told him to find the Aspects. How could Lucian do that unless they were something physical?

  Transcend Blue held up a hand, stifling the giggles. “That is a matter of debate. It’s a strange story, a story that first gained popularity before the Mage War, with the Old Masters of the Volsung Academy.”

  The Novices were listening, rapt.

  “In those days, it was believed by many that there existed physical manifestations of the Seven Aspects themselves, in the form of hyper-concentrated ether. The concentrations were so great that the ether could be seen in the Shadow Realm itself—that is, our reality. As far as we know, ether only gathers within the mage themselves, and it cannot be measured in any detectable way, making this story dubious.” Transcend Blue cleared his throat, somewhat nervously. “It is nothing more than a story. It has no bearing on our lesson today.”

  “Now, I want to know more," Damian said.

  Other Novices voiced their agreement.

  Transcend Blue sighed. "Well, I’m not one for tangents, but since all of you seem interested . . . I don’t see the harm. No mage worth their salt believes such wild stories, but they are interesting; I will grant that much.”

  “In the early days of the Volsung Academy, the mages were many. They labored night and day to expand the Academy, and many came here to study. Magic then was much more of a mystery, and the fraying was unrecognized. And it seemed the possibilities were endless . . .”

  Lucian listened, captivated. Looking around, he saw he wasn’t alone.

  “The First Mages did not understand the dangers of the Manifold and the toxin laced within ether itself. Not as we do today. The fraying was not even a named term until shortly before the Mage War, over sixty years ago. As such, it was common for the first Mages to delve the Manifold, seeking to understand ultimate reality.”

  “Delve the Manifold?” Elia asked.

  Transcend Blue nodded. “It means to form a Psionic link to the Manifold itself. Incredibly dangerous. It accelerates the fraying greatly. But the mages of those days discovered a wealth of information. Some true, some false, some uncertain. That was how we learned of the Seven Aspects set in the Septagon. What they were, how they worked, how they interrelated—and most importantly, how a mage might stream them.”

  Transcend Blue paused, and from that hesitation, Lucian somehow knew he was about to get to the crux of the story.

  “However,” he continued, “there was something called the Prophecy of the Seven, written by one of the first Transcends, Arian.” Lucian’s ears perked up at that. That was the book he had on his nightstand. “The Seven Oracles, who revealed to Arian his prophecy, were said to be beings living within the Manifold itself, each claiming control of one of the Aspects. Like gods, perhaps, or something else. He wrote of his journey into the Light Realm, claiming to see past and future, among other things. He wrote those things down in a tome known as The Prophecy of the Seven. The text is obtuse, not exactly written in another language, but written in a way that makes almost no sense. His original prophecy is lost, taken with him when he one day disappeared from the Volsung Academy forever.”

  “Where did he go?” Emma asked.

  Transcend Blue shook his head. “None know. All we do know is that he never returned, and all we have of his Prophecy are imperfect copies of the original—copies where the entire meaning was changed. According to the writings of the Old Masters, Arian had lost his wits at the end. Back then, they didn’t understand what they were dealing with.”

  “Frayed,” Damian said.

  Transcend Blue nodded sagely. If Arian had frayed, then that explained why the text was complete nonsense to Lucian. He could hardly believe he had checked out that book by mistake.

  “Whether a mage frays or not upon Manifoldic delving is a coin flip,” Transcend Blue said. “The practice has been forbidden for many years at the Volsung Academy. In the Light Realm, the source of the Manifold, there are horrors beyond our imagining. Horrors that the human mind cannot comprehend.” He shook his head. “No one has tried to delve for decades.”

  “What about the Prophecy of the Seven?” Emma asked. “What about the Aspects?”

  “We’re getting far off base here. But never let it be said I left a tale untold.” Transcend Blue cleared his throat. “The Prophecy says there are Seven Aspects of Magic, and they are not only how magic manifests itself in the Shadow Realm, but also physical objects. These Aspects are said to be Orbs, ancient artifacts of great power, manifestations of pure ether. Holding one of these Orbs is said to allow a mage great power over its attendant Aspect.”

  The Novices stared at Transcend Blue, wide-eyed.

  “Is any of that true?” Emma asked.

  Transcend Blue laughed. “Of course not! Arian’s delvings were the mad ramblings of a frayed man. It wouldn’t be the first such false information uncovered during a delving. Nonetheless, it hasn’t prevented . . . certain mages . . . from seeking these Orbs. To no great success, I might add. They are a madman’s ravings, nothing more. Arian was an accomplished mage, but that was before his final delving.”

  “And these Orbs are something physical that can be touched?” Lucian asked.

  Transcend Blue watched him shrewdly. “That’s what Arian believed. And these Orbs were what his disciples, called the Starsea Mages, sought to obtain.”

  Some of the Novices gasped at that.

  Transcend Blue continued. “It was much of their reason for breaking away from the Academies. It’s safe to say that Arian’s words cut the mages in two. And for that, he is certainly a divisive figure, even to this day.” Looking around, he seemed to remember he had a lesson to teach. “I’ve said too much. Suffice it to say, Arian never intended for there to be a war, nor to cause the defection of Xara Mallis and her followers. He believed that the mages should seek and gather these Orbs before a prophesied cycle of destruction returned. Unfortunately, certain mages took him quite seriously.”

  “And none have been found?” Damian asked.

  Transcend Blue scoffed. “Of course not. It is a mad story. I won’t say it can’t be true. But to me, it is the fantasy of a madman. Had he never written his prophecy, there would have been no Mage War, and I don’t use those words lightly. He may have ironically begun the cycle of destruction he prophesied merely by warning against it. Of course, some have supposed the fraying itself is the foretold cycle of destruction, not the Mage War.” Transcend Blue shook his head. “Whatever the case, it is outside the object of our lesson here, and I will speak no more on the subject.”

  The Transcend continued the lesson, but Lucian found his mind drifting elsewhere. To others, it was only a story. But what about his dreams? What about the Voice that told him to find the Aspects? How could his mind have thought of something so crazy with no prior information? Was it prophecy, or madness? There had to be something to it. Unless he were going mad as well, hearing things directly from the Manifold just as Arian had . . .

  And then there was Vera, hinting that she and the Starsea Mages had the answer to the fraying. Could their answer to the fraying be the same as finding these Orbs, as Arian prophesied? Arian, whom the Starsea Mages held in esteem?

  As soon as the lesson concluded, Lucian wanted nothing more than to return to his room and study the text of the Prophecy himself. But he had an obligation, along with Emma, to attend a training session with Talent Khairu.