As usual, Akari started her routine with a quick warmup, followed by some combat stances, punches, and kicks. She knew the proper forms from her dreams, but it wasn’t exactly like riding a bike. It felt more like fighting in a drunken state; some part of her knew what to do, but her body refused to cooperate. Akari had never actually been drunk, but that was the best comparison she had.

  Her fists cut through the morning air, and images of her parents flashed in her mind’s eye. She followed her father’s advice for once, using that pain to push her forward. Every second spent training might save her life in battle, and every victory was a step closer to her goal.

  The sun appeared on Tureko’s eastern skyline, and Kalden and Relia joined her on the rooftop. Together, they began their mana arts training in earnest, just as they’d done every morning since they’d arrived here.

  It wasn’t always easy. Some days, Akari wanted nothing more than to curl up under her blankets for another hour. But waiting until the evening wasn’t an option. Their smuggling left them worn out and exhausted, and distractions always popped up.

  “That’s the mana artist’s life,” Relia had said a few days before. “It’s why most people never make it past Apprentice. They tell themselves they’ll train someday. Someday, when they have more time. But someday never comes.”

  She said this with her usual chipper voice, but the words seemed a lot grimmer in hindsight. Relia had been racing against the clock her whole life, and procrastination was a luxury she’d never have.

  They stood in a loose circle now, and Relia’s mana flew at them like cars on the highway. Akari and Kalden blocked with their shields, and their bones vibrated with every clash. The sun crested the rooftops as they sparred, and their mana glowed violet In the morning light.

  They’d established a routine by now, but that had been a struggle of its own. With so much to learn, how did you decide what to prioritize? Did you focus on your weaknesses, or lean into your strengths? Did you look toward the distant future, or worry about your next battle?

  Things had been so much simpler before. Sense your mana, and do a Missile. Reach Silver, and do a Construct.

  Now, she had more like fifty short-term goals, and barely an hour each day to train. How was she supposed to cram it all in? Did she work on refining her Missiles, or her Constructs? What about her aspect? Or preparing her body for a Cloak technique? What about all those combination techniques from her dreams, like when she’d sliced that car in half?

  “Try making a list,” Relia told them. “Write down everything you want to learn. Don’t worry about the order. I’ll help you guys figure it out from there.”

  They followed Relia’s advice, returning the next morning with their lists.

  “Okay.” Relia bit the end of her pencil as she examined Akari’s. Then she crossed out the entire right column. “Forget all this advanced stuff for now.”

  Akari blinked. “What?” Just like that?”

  “These all have crazy prerequisites,” she said as she crossed out a few more lines. “Take double Construct blades—you need to force out pressure from your chest while pulling on the edges with your hands. Then you need both hands just to hold the Constructs in place. It’s like five techniques in one.”

  Talek. Her brain hurt just thinking about that. Dream Akari had also been using a pre-Cloak technique when she’d sliced through the car, so it was more like six techniques. Her past self might be a spoiled brat, but she was still one hell of a mana artist.

  Relia flipped over Akari’s paper and wrote three quick lines at the top. “We’ll say Constructs are number one for you. Especially here in Creta. Novice bodies are weak, so you need all the defense you can get.”

  Another Missile closed in on Akari, snapping her back to the present moment. She raised both hands and formed a Construct, shattering the mana an inch from her face.

  Shit. Relia could fix broken bones, but she’d be screwed if her glasses broke.

  No sooner had Akari formed her shield than a second Missile flew toward her stomach. No time to block. Akari kicked off from her left foot, leaping sideways and missing the attack by a hair’s breadth.

  “Hey!” Relia hollered. “Is this blocking practice or dodging practice?”

  Akari groaned. “How am I supposed to block two Missiles at once?” She might have done it with a wider shield, but those took time to make.

  “You have two hands, don’t you?” Relia grinned as she demonstrated the correct motion, raising one arm to guard her face while keeping the other low at her waist.

  Akari closed her mouth and fell back into her combat stance.

  This went on for another ten minutes. By the end, Akari and Kalden were both out of mana, and covered in sweat and bruises. They topped off their souls with a bottle of liquid mana, then moved on to the next part of their routine. For Akari, this meant mana shaping exercises to refine her control. For Kalden, it meant serving as Relia’s personal punching bag.

  Apparently, he’d been close to reaching Apprentice in his own dreams, and he had a chance of reaching it again. But first, he had to put his body under constant strain. While Novices focused on expanding their souls, the Apprentice and Artisan realms were all about the body.

  So Akari sat crossed-legged on the stone roof, working on her shaping, and watching Relia break and mend Kalden’s bones. With each break, he forced more mana into the holes, and this paved the way for a stronger body later on.

  Was it weird that she found this distracting? Did that make her a masochist?

  No . . . it wasn’t the injuries that held her attention. It was the way Kalden handled them. Most people would have screamed or tensed under the pain. But Kalden kept his breathing steady as he cycled. It was like he could conquer it through sheer force of will.

  It got harder to focus as they shed their clothing, leaving Relia in her combat bra and Kalden completely shirtless. They’d all gotten less shy about this lately. Especially since the Unmarked only had so many washing machines; no one wanted to get their clothes too sweaty if they could help it.

  Master by twenty-one. Akari chanted the words in her head to stay focused. Even then, she struggled to keep her eyes on her mana.

  “That should do it for today,” Relia finally said, “I’m gonna grab a shower and head downstairs. See you by Arturo’s car!” And with that, she skipped across the roof with even more energy than before.

  Kalden gathered his things, pulled a black T-shirt, and joined Akari on the ground. “I can’t wait until I’m an Apprentice.”

  Akari nodded her agreement. “She’ll probably be an Artisan by then—still skipping circles around us.”

  “I hope so,” Kalden said.

  Right. It was hard to think about Relia without getting depressed now. Maybe that was why she’d kept her condition a secret. It must suck to have your friends see you as a wilting flower.

  “I had another dream last night,” Kalden said after a short silence. “You were in it.”

  Akari perked up. “Yeah?”

  “I came back to Last Haven after training in Shoken. My father told me to challenge the top Novice fighter to a duel . . .”

  “Spoiler alert,” Akari said. “You beat me.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “What? You had the same dream?”

  She nodded, and the two shared their own perspectives. She also explained the situation with her parents, and how they’d been trying to combine their space and time aspects into something new. Kalden followed with his own experiences in North Shoken.

  Apparently, the blade artists had put Kalden’s body under similar strain before, but they’d never gone as far as breaking all his bones. Most healers would take days to fix that sort of damage, but Relia did it in mere seconds. Just how powerful was this aspect, and what made it so much stronger?

  “You should have seen the other training my parents put me through,” he said. “They had my whole career planned out. It wasn’t so different from my alchemy path on Arkala.”

  Before these last few dreams, Akari had always assumed mana artists lived better lives than the rest of the world. Clearly, things weren’t as simple as following your passion into the sunset.

  “Think you’ll pick the same aspect this time?” she asked.

  “Hard to say.” Kalden tilted his head from side to side. “Blade mana was great for winning duels, but dueling never made me happy. Besides, we have different goals this time.” He shifted to face her. “What about you?”

  Akari shrugged. “Spacetime mana would be a treat, but who knows if I can pull it off without my parents’ help. Even my past self couldn’t do that.”

  “Your past self was pretty intense,” Kalden said.

  “Yeah.” Akari winced. “Sorry if she was a bitch to you.”

  He frowned. “Why do you say that?”

  “I was different back then. Thought everything should go my way, then I got pissed when it didn’t.”

  “You weren’t so bad,” he said. “If anything, you were way more hostile when we met on Arkala.”

  She gave him a flat look. “You lured me into a supply closet.”

  “It was for a business arrangement.”

  “It was one step short of kidnapping,” Akari said, but she didn’t bother to hide her grin.

  “I bought you your favorite coffee,” he retorted.

  She considered that. “Darren and Maelyn?”

  Now it was Kalden’s turn to smile. “I could barely put on my school uniform without their help.” His smile faded, and he stared down at his boots. “I wish they could have come with us.”

  Akari gave a heavy nod. With all the danger they’d faced, Darren and Maelyn were probably better off on Arkala. Still, she knew what it felt like to miss people. Especially now, with memories of her parents so fresh in her mind.

  She followed Kalden’s gaze back to his lap where he’d covered a piece of paper.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Huh?” He blinked at the open notebook as if seeing it for the first time. “Oh, yeah. Relia was telling me about advancement in the Master realms. You need to speak certain revelations to open your soul—align it with your identity.”

  “What?” Half-naked sparring was one thing, but now they were discussing advancement without her? That crossed the line.

  Kalden nodded, heedless of her glare. “It might apply to what we’re doing. We’re trying to sync up with our past selves, right? What if we could boil our personalities down to a single trait? A single word that describes us?”

  “Easy,” Akari said. “I’m a rebel.” That had been consistent between her past and present self. But while Dream Akari had rebelled against her parents, Real Akari saved her energy for her true enemies.

  “Sorry,” Kalden said. “A single trait for our past selves. Something we don’t have right now.”

  “Oh.” She could think of several words to describe her past self. But she’d already tried embracing those ideas before, and her soul hadn’t responded.

  Kalden gestured back to the notebook on his lap. “I made a list of all my traits, then I rated them on a scale of one to ten. The tens are traits I already share with my past self. The ones are things I need to look into.”

  That was classic Kalden, but it was still better than all her ideas. “Can I see your list?”

  He hesitated.

  “Come on. What’d we tell Relia about keeping secrets.”

  “Some things are personal.”

  “She literally gave that same excuse.”

  “It’s not the same thing. I still think Relia had every right to her privacy. If it weren’t for the danger, I mean.”

  “What if we can help each other?” she said. “What if something clicks for me when I see your list?”

  He breathed out through his nose. “You’re gonna keep bothering me until I show you, aren’t you?”

  She shrugged. “Unless I think of a better plan.”

  Kalden grabbed his pencil and moved to erase something.

  “For Talek’s sake.” Akari reached for the paper, but Kalden moved it out of her reach.

  They sat there in a stalemate for several seconds, then his lips curled up at the edges as he passed her the book. Damnit. She knew that smile. Did she just walk into a trap?

  Akari glanced down at the page, taking in the long table of data. The left column listed his personality traits, then the next two held the ratings. It didn’t seem all that embarrassing. Most of Kalden’s traits were similar, with only a few points of difference between them. There were a few larger gaps, though. For example, he’d given himself a 10/10 for the Strategist trait today, but only a 2/10 in his past life. That made sense; his parents had filled his head with thoughts of duty and honor before, and he hadn’t wanted to defy them.

  “Hey,” Akari said. “I think you struck gold with this next row.”

  “Really?” Kalden leaned forward, close enough that she felt his breath on her neck.

  Akari gave a serious nod. “It says your past self didn’t like coffee.”

  “Ah.” Kalden leaned back again. “Well, you never know what’s important.”

  She pointed up at the sky. “You should shout that to the Angels right now. Maybe they’ll—“ She trailed off as the next row caught her eye. She read the words aloud before she could stop herself. “Crush on Akari Zeller? What’s that even . . .”

  Her eyes flew to the next column that represented Kalden’s past self: 10/10.

  Then time slowed to a crawl as her eyes moved to the last column, representing his current self: 10/10

  Heat rushed to her cheeks. She re-read the row several times, following the lines with her finger, making sure she hadn’t misread.

  “Oh,” Akari finally said. “You—what?” Her mouth couldn’t form any sentences after that. Was Kalden saying he liked her—more than a friend? Or was this a joke?

  “It’s lonely at the top,” Kalden explained. His own voice sounded far calmer than she felt. “You seemed lonely, too. Kindred spirits and all that. You were the only Novice duelist who put up a real fight against me. And you weren’t even a career fighter. You just did it as a hobby.”

  Akari felt her shoulders relax. So, Kalden didn’t really like her that way. He just respected her as a fellow mana artist. That made much more sense. Kind of disappointing, though.

  Silence stretched between them, and Kalden seemed to mull something over. “Plus, I thought you were cute. Guess the whole brooding rebel thing worked for me.” He looked up and met her eyes. “It still does.”

  The heat returned to her cheeks, and she cleared her throat. “That’s cool.” She’d meant for the comment to sound nonchalant. But it came out in the most cringe-worthy way possible.

  Did she feel the same way? Most of the time, Akari had way too many emotions running through her head, with no time to straighten them out. What’s more, she’d always considered Kalden off limits. She’d been a Bronze when they’d first met, and he was a Gold.

  But things were different here in the outside world. And Kalden just . . . got her. He always had, even back on Arkala when she’d made all those stupid comments. He just rolled with the punches, and he never made her feel like it was her fault.

  Damnit. Say something else. Her past self had always pushed people away as some bullshit defense mechanism, but it hadn’t made her any happier.

  “You looked kind of dorky when you were thirteen,” Akari said. “But you’re not so bad now.”

  “Guess I was a late bloomer.” Kalden leaned closer, and their shoulders touched again.

  I could kiss him, Akari thought. The hero always kissed the girl in front of a dramatic sunrise. Or in this case, the heroine kissed the boy. Or would that be weird? Things moved slower in the fancy Gold society where he’d grown up. She could ask him first . . . or would that be even worse?

  Besides, if he wanted to, then why didn’t he make the first move?

  But this was Kalden Trengsen. He was probably overthinking this whole thing, running flowcharts and equations through his head. He wasn’t wrong about that, either. Akari got jumpy with physical contact sometimes. She wouldn’t kiss herself either if she were him.

  So make the first move. Just—

  The roof access door swung open, and Arturo stuck his head out. “Hey, you guys almost done?”

  Oh, hell no. Not the old interruption trope.

  “Yeah,” Kalden pushed himself to his feet. “We’ll be right down.”

  Arturo closed the door, and Akari climbed to her feet next to Kalden. She’d missed her chance. Now they’d have to dance around the issue until a sufficiently climactic moment.

  No, screw that. She was a badass mana artist, not some socially awkward girl.

  Akari grabbed Kalden by his T-shirt, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him . . .

  . . . on the cheek. She’d been aiming for his lips, but she’d changed course at the last second. Kissing seemed tricky, and she didn’t want to mess up her first attempt. That’d be as silly as rushing into battle with a new weapon.

  Still, the feeling left her lightheaded. Even Kalden looked surprised for once. His smile reached his eyes, and he put a hand to his cheek.

  Oh well, at least she was half a badass. Akari winked at him as she walked toward the stairwell, feigning confidence as if this were her plan all along.