Without hesitation, I draw on my most powerful Skill. [The Glassmith Masters All] ignites in a golden halo of glory, and I manifest glass directly from the energy of the world, guided into place by the power of my will alone. Mana swirls in a complex pattern on the table, almost blinding in intensity, and builds up a scaffolding in repeated passes. Soon, a small statue that's an exact twin of the one Baryl used to keep around for good luck coalesces into existence.

I animate the rotund little man and make it wink at Baryl before leaping up to land on his shoulder. He gasps, his dark eyes wide with wonder, and cradles it in his hands. He seems to completely forget that he's too suave and sophisticated now to act like a kid, which makes me doubly happy that I chose to replicate his statue. He needs some uncomplicated joy in his life.

[Lady] Eversheds snorts out a decidedly unlady-like laugh. "Ironic. You recovered your hand at last, only to discover that now you no longer need it at all. That's so very like you, Nuri. Extravagant to the end. I'm looking forward to working together in the studio again."

"He's never satisfied with mediocrity," Mikko rumbles, pride thrumming in his voice. "He doesn't like leaving a job half done, either."

I nod in thanks toward my brother, then shift in my seat and lean forward, elbows on the table, as I meet [Lady] Evershed's gaze. "Speaking of jobs half-finished, I might as well get to the unpleasant part of our discussion."

"Still sore about losing the tournament?"

I smile at the barb, knowing she's testing me to see how far I've come at not bristling at every little thing that doesn't go my way. "Zephyr deserved the win. I'm confident in a rematch, but unfortunately I have far greater concerns to worry about right now."

"Xharrote's little attack dog, eh? You're caught up in the [Viceroy]'s disappearance, aren't you."

"Yes," I say plainly, realizing she is making a statement rather than asking a question. "Since you're already acquainted with what happened in Gilead, and you're involved with the [Inquisitors], is it safe to assume that you also know the dark truth about Tapirs and his real Class?"

[Lady] Evershed pats her lips with a lace napkin. She deliberately folds it up and places it back on the table before lifting her chin and catching my eye. "Perhaps I am less informed than you believe. The Index hasn't updated, nor have my sources shed any light on the matter. Please, enlighten me."

"Truthfully, I'm not sure how much we should rely on the Index, not while it's maintained by the [Mage] cabal. Anything Tapirs touches is most likely compromised. His influence must be excised from the kingdom entirely," I say with a heavy sigh.

"Treason is excellent seasoning on quail pie," [Lady] Evershed says as blandly as if I'd made an inane comment about the weather. She cuts into a slice of the aforementioned pie, hums in delight, and waves her hand to levitate a piece onto my plate as well.

I take a few bites, eating mechanically, even though the cold meat pie isn't my favorite dish of all time. Washing it down with the tea helps, thankfully. "You're taking this well. You're not worried about dragging Grand Ile into a civil war?"

"Do you know why the [Inquisitors] are well respected, rather than feared?" my old master asks in between dainty bites. The rest of the audience at the table is silent now, listening to a teacher explain valuable secrets to her students.

"Hm. On the face of it, because they serve the truth, not a [King] or [Viceroy]," I venture a guess. Somehow, that doesn't seem quite right. Judging by our host's frown, it's not.

"Close, although many people fear the truth more than a man," [Lady] Evershed says, a wry smile cracking her otherwise calm demeanor. "We like our hidden vices."

"They serve Densmore itself," I say, my voice firming up to match my growing conviction. "They keep us alive through crisis and chaos. Guiding lights through the storm."

"Theoretically," Evershed agrees. "But what is Densmore, Nuri? Do you mean the land? The people? Perhaps it's our unique laws? Our vibrant culture?"

I stroke my beard, pondering my response. After a moment, I shrug, conceding defeat. "I defer to your wisdom. Teach me?"

She nodes graciously. "All of those things can change over time. In fact, the kingdom you know today is far different from the one that existed a few hundred years ago. So, again, I ask you, what is Densmore?"

"Somehow, 'an ineffable spirit' doesn't seem quite right," I say, quirking up my right eyebrow.

"It's not quite wrong, either," [Lady] Evershed allows. "Young master Nuri, the country is an idea, a collection of hopes, a concept of community. It shifts and grows, waxes and wanes, but it's ultimately an allegiance to a dream of something greater, a spark of hope and belonging that we each hold in our hearts. And that's what the [Inquisitors] work to preserve."

"You sound like you admire them," Mikko interjects, rubbing his chin as he takes in the conversation.

"I do. So does Nuri. That's why we're aligned in defense of that dream, even if the cost is blood and chaos and fire."

I shiver at her announcement. Bloody war is on the horizon. I'm just so tired. I've already seen so much bloodshed already. Is this really the right path forward?

"Oh, Nuri! Give her a new Index node so she can communicate with Rakesh," Avelina says, cutting straight through my gloom like the dawning sun. "That will enhance her information network, and it's a good project to show how imbuing works."

"Not a bad idea," I say, my lips twitching at the adoring look Mikko casts her way. "I'm not sure I can recreate the work we did in Gilead, though perhaps we can find a way to connect to it from afar. After all, we're sitting with an expert on that front."

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I peer intently at [Lady] Evershed as I make that declaration, hoping she'll offer some clue about how she was able to tug on our latent connection despite the hundreds of miles between us.

"You mentioned the vital importance of a robust economy earlier, Nuri, when you referenced the heights of power. If you want information, pay the currency," [Lady] Evershed says with a glint in her eye.

"Secrets. Very well." I stuff the last of the pie into my mouth, chew it quickly, and stand to my feet like I'm about to deliver a speech. "Here goes. Take notes."

Baryl rolls his eyes, but [Lady] Evershed produces a notebook with a flick of her wrist and condenses a mana pen. Good. She's taking me seriously.

"Tapirs is a [Death Mage] who's well into the Third Threshold. I managed to destroy his body thanks to subverting axiomatic truths, causing him to dominate himself long enough for me to cut him apart, transmute his body to glass with [Vitrification], and shatter the remains. He isn't truly dead, unfortunately, since [Chief Inquisitor] Xharrote says something anchors his body to this plane, and he'll reemerge after gaining enough power again. We have to either find and destroy the anchor before he returns, or raise an army to defeat him when he regains power. War is almost certainly coming for Densmore, and either we band together or find ourselves crushed under the boot of oppression."

The blank stare that momentarily overcomes my master's face is well worth sharing the valuable secrets. No doubt Nicanor's colleagues would groan at how easily I offered up such important details, but I have no interest in the shadowy life of an [Information Broker]. I'm here to recruit, after all. No sense holding back with my sales pitch.

A moment later, she takes it all in stride. "No wonder I received such a powerful boost from you, young man." She nods firmly. "Grand Ile will stand by you when the war comes. Don't think for a moment we'll catch that sly fox before he's ready."

I bow my head. "Thank you."

"Let's begin," she tuts. "Training your resonance shouldn't be hard, given your advanced mana sensitivity and prolonged exposure to my Skill."

I summon a small glass golem to record while she demonstrates, freeing me up to focus on every word and practice what she tells me as we go. Nodding seriously, I shut my mouth and listen as she draws forth wisdom from her profound well of experience.

"Skills have limits because the physical world is constrained by laws. Leap into the air? You'll soon drop back down. Mana-empowerment will certainly cause you to leap higher, but even a Platinum warrior would eventually come crashing down to earth. Domains influence the world around them to a greater degree than pure mana, since they incorporate the direct power of the will, or, perhaps, the soul, if you prefer. Nonetheless, the range will eventually reach an upper boundary. No doubt you've noticed my range."

"You encompass most of the inner city from here, but not the main gates," I reply as I think back on when I first detected her influence during the coach ride.

"Just so," [Lady] Evershed says, a slight smile of approval on her lips. "Judging from the menacing power that's hiding just underneath the surface, your Domain is significantly greater than mine despite your young age and lower rank. Soon, you'll far surpass me when you break through to the Second Threshold—a goal that I've set for you to accomplish within the month, I'll have you know. Don't disappoint me."

"I won't," I vow, even as I panic on the inside. A month isn't enough time to push all my Skills upward in power!

"See that you don't." She tuts and leans over the table to pat my hand gently, like the grandmother I never had. "Regardless, the physical world will always box you in and bar your path forward. In order to bypass these restrictions, you must operate on another plane."

I suck in a breath. My eyes widen as I think through the implications. "You're basically imbuing already, but instead of using an object in the real world, you're leveraging concepts in the ethereal. What does distance matter to a Skill that's at work in both of us? It's empowered by mana, which isn't bound until it enters the corporeal world."

[Lady] Evershed's smile is as sharp as broken glass. "Ever the dutiful student. So. Which Skills do you share with friends?"

"My friends have donated numerous Skills to me," I say, speaking haltingly as I go over the mental list. "But I don't think that's what counts."

"Nuri, you and Rakesh worked together to build his tree of knowledge," Avelina says, her eyes alight with golden flames of excitement. "You probably could reach through the ether and draw back information."

With a clap, [Lady] Evershed causes ripples all across the surface of the pond. Soon, it's almost impossible to tell where each one started, and where they've intersected and overlapped as their energy collides and combines. "Strike the ocean, Nuri. Just beware the depths."

"Ominious," Baryl mutters from the side.

I reach out with my inner being, not relying on my Skills, my mana manipulation, or even my Domain, and recall the sensation of basking in the glow of overwhelming knowledge when my [Researcher] friend called on his memory of books in Gilead and we restored much of the library by supplementing it with the Index.

At first, there's nothing. A vast expanse. Pitch black. An abyss that stretches on into all eternity. As I press forward, something resists me; not a physical barrier, but a sense of weight and distance that bears down on me, grinding me to a halt. I flex my Domain, but it does nothing at all. I grunt in annoyance before it hits me. This is a place bound by imagination, not raw power. All I have to do is—

The darkness lights up like the sun. Everything fuzzes, and a strange ringing grows in my ears. By the time I come to my senses, nothing by pure white surrounds me, somehow even more disorienting and oppressive than the midnight shadows it replaces. Yet I feel a faint and fading hum, a resonance in the world that draws me inexorably onward.

Undeterred by the lack of landmarks, I draw on the memory of the feel and shape of our Skills working in concert when Rakesh and I rebuilt the library. The vibration grows stronger, and the resonance grows, like a plucked string in the next room over instead of across the street. I follow the trial, igniting the Skill, and my eyes snap open as details rush into my mind.

I kneel down in the soft dirt next to the platform where the lunch table stands, placing my open palms on the ground and channeling mana into all my bundled Skills as quickly as I can. A small seed of glass and dreams forms under the surface, and I strain, pulling it upward until a tiny sprout pushes through the surface.

Mana gushes out of me, feeding the thirsty plant, and over the next few minutes it grows taller and taller. Guiding its quest toward the heavens, I overlay imbuing principles. "Watch. The story matters," I grit out, barely able to spare the split focus to explain what I'm doing to [Lady] Evershed.

I paint a picture of crawling out of the murky depths, of catching a glimpse of the bright and glorious sky, of new and better worlds. I weave a simple tale of a hundred growing things: a little tadpole becoming a leaping frog, a falling rock kicking off an avalanche of its brethren all tumbling down a hill with inexorable might, an acorn sprouting into a vast tree that shades an entire village. On and on the images go, and I press them into the warp and weft of the world with as much clarity as I can manage, narrating them to my old master of glass in hopes she understands the soul of imbuing.

As I wring out the last drops of my power, I collapse on my face, groaning at the effort of challenging myself with unfamiliar magic.

For a few blessed moments, I pant in silence, recovering my breath while the earth cools my feverish brow. Then, just as I'm about to ask if Evershed followed what happened—

. . . "why is it only ankle-high?"

Baryl's dubious voice pings around in my skull like a clapper in a wrung bell. I roll over and shove myself up to sitting, staring at him with my lips pressed into a firm, thin line. "Do you have any idea how difficult that was? Do you even know what I just did?" I sputter.

The little gremlin has the gall to wink at me. Unbelievable!

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