Magnolia had been coming to the forest clearing every day now. The moment Yi's footsteps faded down the street each morning, she would slip out the door with Skippy at her heels, following the path until she could walk it with her eyes closed.

  The city felt different from up here. The noise of the streets below softened to a distant murmur, replaced by birdsong and the whisper of wind through leaves.

  She had been practicing.

  Not merely here, among the boulders, but everywhere. On the walk over this morning, she had channeled mana to her eyes and the world had transformed. The people on the streets moved as though wading through honey. A sparrow taking flight stretched its wings in a languid arc that lasted an eternity.

  Then she had released the mana, and everything snapped back to its proper speed, and she had very nearly walked face-first into a lamppost.

  But still. Progress was progress.

  The clearing opened before her, dappled in amber light. The boulders sat where she had left them. Several bore the evidence of her work now: cracks and chips and, in one memorable instance, a hole punched clean through.

  Now only the largest remained.

  Last one.

  Magnolia settled into her stance: feet shoulder-width apart, weight balanced on the balls of her feet. She drew a slow breath. Reached inward for the mana gathered behind her ribs.

  The power answered with an ease that still surprised her. She pulled it up through her chest, down her arms, into her fists. Pictured the outline. Filled them with energy until pale violet flames flickered around her knuckles.

  Then she moved.

  Three steps carried her forward with the force of a loosed arrow. The clearing blurred past. She drew back her fist and drove it forward with everything she had.

  The sound was tremendous.

  The boulder detonated. Fragments of rock sprayed outward in every direction, and dust billowed up in a grey cloud, and Magnolia stood at the center of the destruction with her fist still extended and joy rising in her chest like soda bubbles.

  Behind her, Skippy let out a sharp yelp.

  She spun to find the little dog scrambling backward, ears flattened. A chunk of stone had landed inches from his paws. He stared at it. Stared at her. His tail had vanished entirely between his legs.

  "Sorry!" Magnolia laughed. "I didn't mean to frighten you, I just..."

  But Skippy was already recovering. His tail emerged from hiding, gave an experimental wag, then began swinging with renewed enthusiasm. He picked his way through the debris and pressed his nose against her ankle.

  "Did you see that?" She crouched down, scratching behind his ears. "I did it. The whole thing. Just... gone."

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  The manual had warned that reinforcement was difficult, that most Ascended spent months—years, even—learning to channel mana properly.

  Magnolia had been at this for less than a month.

  Perhaps, she thought, and the idea arrived with a giddiness she couldn't quite suppress, I'm some kind of genius.

  A genius. Her. The girl from the Satellite who had never seen the inside of a proper classroom, who had taught herself to read from picture books salvaged from rubbish heaps.

  She turned the word over in her mind, examining it, finding that she rather liked the weight of it.

  Magnolia sat on a smaller boulder at the edge of the clearing and let the afternoon breeze cool her heated skin. Skippy lay at her feet, panting contentedly.

  The sky was beginning to change. Pale blue bleeding into gold at the edges.

  Ashfall Eve is coming soon.

  The thought slipped in, and with it came a flutter in her chest.

  Yi had mentioned it again last night. The festival. The fireworks. The hill overlooking the old quarter.

  "It's a date."

  Magnolia felt heat creep up her neck.

  A date.

  She'd never been on one. The closest she'd ever come was reading about princesses in old picture books. Stories about flowing gowns, handsome princes, moonlit dances.

  She'd thought they were fairy tales. Beautiful lies to distract from the ugliness of real life.

  But now...

  Yi's face surfaced in her mind. That gentle smile. Those dark eyes, crinkling at the corners when he laughed. The way his black hair fell across his forehead.

  He's handsome.

  The thought was simple. Obvious. But admitting it, even just to herself, made something warm bloom in her chest.

  Magnolia shook her head, dispelling the thought. The sky had deepened while she'd been lost in her daydreaming. The gold bleeding into orange now, shadows lengthening across the clearing.

  I should head back.

  She'd promised herself she'd have dinner ready when Yi arrived. A proper dinner this time, not the disaster she'd inflicted on him that first morning.

  She'd been practicing. Not just reinforcement, but cooking too. Her dishes still weren't good, exactly—but they were edible now. Yi had stopped making that subtle wince when he took his first bite.

  Progress.

  Magnolia stood, brushing dirt from her borrowed clothes. She clicked her tongue, and Skippy scrambled to his feet.

  "Come on," she said, reaching for his leash. "Let's go home."

  "Wow. You really made a mess of this place, huh?"

  Magnolia froze.

  She spun on instinct. Feet wide, weight low. Her eyes jumped to the treeline, the dark gaps between trunks.

  Nothing.

  "Down here, dummy!"

  Magnolia's gaze dropped.

  And for a moment, the world stopped making sense.

  There, hovering just above the grass, was a pig.

  A plush pig.

  It was small, no bigger than her palm, with a body covered in soft fabric. Its eyes were tiny black beads that somehow managed to convey profound smugness. Brown snout. Brown hooves. The kind of thing you'd find in a child's bedroom.

  And it was floating.

  Magnolia stared.

  The pig stared back.

  At her feet, Skippy let out a low, confused whine.

  "What," Magnolia said slowly, "the hell."

  The pig drifted upward until it hung at eye level.

  "It's nice to meet you!" the pig chirped, extending one tiny hoof. "I'm Piggy!"

  Magnolia did not move.

  The hoof remained extended.

  "...You're supposed to shake it," Piggy said, after an uncomfortable silence. "That's how introductions work. Did no one teach you manners?"