-oOo-

  Chapter 13

  -oOo-

  “Finally,” Sylvia breathed.

  The silver-haired witch set down The Weave of Fate by Apollonius, an elective class divination textbook. While the writing was dry, Sylvia found the spell applications fascinating. The Weave of Fate provided multiple case studies in the use of causality magic, each drawn from Apollonius’s life experience.

  “Maybe I’ll read Akashic Reflection next.”

  She’d run it by her teacher first. Lady Vallenfelt knew which books were worth reading. No sense trudging through antiquated garbage.

  Sylvia checked her System. Three blank skill books. It was time to execute her grand plan.

  The jade scroll had been sitting in Sylvia’s inventory for a month now. She’d peeked at the contents, of course. The first view had provided a great deal of insight. In her practice thereafter, the asteri smoothed many of her mistakes.

  Then Sylvia had gritted her teeth and put the scroll aside.

  There were many reasons. The first and most direct motivator was reality. Sylvia was a witch. Her battle power was better increased through magic rather than ki. Sylvia had a tournament coming up and practicality was must.

  The second reason was fear of attention. Mastering an art in one day was sure to raise brows.

  So Sylvia had made theater of training in secret. To lend this illusion veracity, she had used the scroll a second time, then put enough hours in to touch the edge of externalization.

  Now it was time to turn lie into reality.

  Hands shaking with excitement, Sylvia unleashed the command. “Use Item, Blank Skill Book: Waltz of Flowers.”

  Querying Database…

  Querying Database…

  … Associated information found.

  Simulating Scenario…

  … Simulation complete.

  Ding!

  

  Perfect. A category above excellent. It was exactly as she hoped.

  Eager, Sylvia looked left and right. The silver-haired witch was sitting on a stone dais far from prying eyes. Sunlight poured down with the morning’s eternal glow, shedding soothing warmth. The cool breeze was gentle, rustling her robes.

  Napping in the meditation area was a fond pastime for witches. Even if someone wandered upon this space, they’d think nothing of it.

  Sylvia laid back, eyes closed. The hard stone was nothing to a phantasmal body.

  “Confirm.”

  Ding!

  …

  …

  Sylvia cracked open an eye. Instead of a dream, she found a blue window waiting.

  

  “That’s new,” Sylvia muttered.

  She pondered. The wording was rather suspicious. Did combine meaning losing the scroll? Was she willing to face Lady Vallenfelt’s wrath? Hmm. Greedy desire pawed around in her heart.

  “Hey, you. What does combine mean?” the witch demanded.

  The rectangle remained silent. Sylvia pinched the screen in frustration.

  Know what? Screw it.

  “Confirm!”

  Accessing Jade Scroll…

  Interleaving intent…

  … upgrade complete.

  Ding.

  The air rippled. A column of heavenly light poured from a portal above Sylvia’s head. With great theater, a book descended, surrounded by purple motes. The cover was transparent gold. The pages silver leaf. On the front was inscribed the title: The Waltz of Flowers. Below was a sketch of a witch wearing a wide brimmed hat. The robed magician pranced upon a sea of petals.

  

  There was a nervous flutter in her heart. Fear mixing with excitement. Sylvia trembled. Should she check the damage? No. It was already too late. The die had been cast. The first thing to do was to enjoy the results.

  “Use Item!”

  In an instant, she was devoured by the darkness.

  Sylvia was standing in a field of green. Bare feet pressed against the dirt, strands of grass rising between her toes. Slowly, she stepped. Ki flowed through her, moving through spine, thigh, and calf. The woven flow split as it approached her ankle. Ki spread through the earth in sheets, an invisible force like the petals of a flower.

  Her weight shifted. Ki flexed with it, adding a spring to her step.

  Step. Step. Step.

  She moved. She sensed the stream of life within her. She felt every eddy and every mistaken action. Each movement was different than the last. A dance. Forward and back. Left and right. Turning. Spinning. Stabilizing. A hop and a leap. A turn and a twirl. A dash then a stop.

  A thorough course testing all the ways a human could move. The dance went on for half an hour. Then it repeated. Again and again. One hour became two. Two became four. Four became ten.

  A day passed.

  Her pace picked up. She moved with rhythm. A changing beat, brisk then sluggish. She danced on grass, sand, stone, and snow. Slowly, the flow of her ki was refined. The errors rarer. Her movement familiar. Then easy. Then natural.

  A week had passed.

  The process changed.

  Sylvia’s ki surged. The volume doubled, then tripled. The energy in her body ballooned until the density was ten times that of prior. In an instant, strength, vitality, and agility were increased by two-hundred points. Ki flowed smooth and refined, thick and durable.

  Then she stepped again.

  Physical energy, once contained by flesh, pushed out. Pale sheets spread along the ground like paper petals. Externalization made easy by the magnitude of her life force. Like this she practiced, following the prior regimen.

  One day passed. Her attributes fell. Two days passed. Her strength was reduced again, ki only thrice where it started. On the third day twice. By the end of the fourth, her attributes had returned to normal.

  On the fifth day, she refined her control.

  On the sixth day, her movements were pure and perfect.

  On the seventh, she danced among paper petals, ki as weak as the day she entered the netherworld.

  The scene shifted.

  An obstacle course appeared in front of her. A mountain of walls, beams, and hazards that extended for kilometers. Without hesitation, Sylvia entered it. She ran along walls. She leapt between poles. She dodged around axes while crossing narrow beams. She traversed slick slopes, icy slides, and mud filled pits.

  Then she did it again. With bare feet, heavy boots, and high heels. She challenged variations with broken legs and iron shackles. She stumbled. She struggled. She failed. Again and again. Until she succeeded. Once. Then twice. Then repeatedly.

  The art became natural and the scenarios more versatile. Now she faced battles and formal dances. The inner flow was as easy as breathing. Externalization, equally effortless. The petals she cast conformed perfectly with the ground, spreading her weight and enhancing her grip. No matter the angle or the situation, when she stepped the petals flexed amplifying her force.

  Then a feeling flitted. An ephemeral echo. Slowly, she started to sense it. A concept. An idea. The deeper her understanding the more refined the petals. With each motion they became more real. Soon figments of flowers danced upon her wake.

  As the fifth week dawned, her movements became lighter. More agile. She ran across sand without sinking. She frolicked through swamp without being engulfed. Fantasy converged into truth. Concept coiled with ki. Idea was manifest into reality.

  By the seventh week, Sylvia slid on the surface of lakes as easily as figure skater flying on the ice. Lighter and lighter. Her weight seemed to vanish until, just before the eighth week, Sylvia stepped off air.

  What was done once became twice.

  Double jumps. Triple jumps. Still, she was challenged, forced to apply her new skill in all manner of danger. Beryl blood wolves nipped at her heels. Lightning hawks circled over head, spitting electric bolts. Beret wearing witches ran beside her, filling the air with vicious blades.

  She fought them atop still lakes. She fled from hordes while parkouring through mountains. She battled in the Academy halls, then across the rooftops of Earth’s cities. She lived. She died. She lost. She won. The threat never ended, forever rising with her mastery.

  As the ninth week approached its close, Sylvia found herself dashing among the clouds. She dove through skies of blue, using her art to control her position. Lightning hawks gave chase, forcing her to dodge and evade while she plummeted toward the ground.

  The instant she touched earth, Sylvia awoke.

  Sunlight teased a pair of pastel pink eyes. Sylvia blinked.

  And regretted it.

  The light was a knife driven through the open sockets of her skull. With groan, Sylvia squeezed her eyes closed, shielding herself from the sun with an arm. Her head pounded. A troll hammered at her brain, treating it like a drum.

  Ordinary skill books were bad.

  This was much, much worse.

  Reeling from pain so sharp it made her sick, Sylvia waited for the memories to fade.

  Half an hour later, she dragged herself to her feet.

  “That one was stronger than normal,” Sylvia squeezed out.

  Her head was still throbbing. It wasn’t just the number of memories that increased, but also their intensity and clarity. Sylvia’s psychic essence was scattered, leaving her dizzy and unsteady. She wobbled. Ki flexed. Life force flowed through her shoes, gripping the ground with soft petals.

  Even as the world swirled, she kept her balance.

  It was easy. Natural. After half a year, the silver-haired witch had become tolerant of her ridiculous heels. Now they were almost comfortable. No different than standing with bare feet.

  In fact, was there a difference?

  When the waltz of flowers was mastered, it was ki on which she walked. Not the earth or footwear.

  As with Kyna, shoes were little more than ornaments to her now.

  The netherworld was an absurdity.

  Grimacing against the pain and recognition, Sylvia tested her control. Ki flowed again, this time through her arm. An aura wrapped her fist, hardening into a steel like plate.

  Externalization.

  Practicing the waltz of flowers had improved her skill with ki in general.

  Sylvia released the aura, opening a hand.

  Inner flow was the foundation. It was hard to live in the netherworld without it. Whether it was to eat food, drink wine, or shape cloth, ki was a necessity. Externalization was a step beyond. While witches would rarely reach this realm, it was all but expected from any competent warrior. To physical type fighters, externalization was as important as fast casting was to mages.

  Beyond this was manifestation. The manifestation realm was the threshold that defined an expert. This was not a realm that could be reached by casual practice or mere strength. Grasping manifestation took commitment and effort.

  “I can use externalization freely,” Sylvia noted. “And technically speaking, I’ve stepped a foot into manifestation.”

  Not that it mattered much with Sylvia’s pitiful pool of ki.

  She owed this to the jade scroll and her skill book. Without the pairing, she would’ve stopped at externalization. Only the two in conjunction let Sylvia cross one and a half realms in an instant.

  From a certain perspective, Sylvia could now be called a genius.

  “Professor Wright told us to expect manifestation level arts during the tournament,” Sylvia remembered.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  The netherworld was unfair. Some were born with a code that fit their soul. Others had outer membranes that were pockmarked and warped. Each bloodline came with different traits. Witches had abundant mana. Werewolves were abound with ki. Vampires were a mix in between, but could easily recover their strength by drinking blood.

  When Sylvia trained in martial arts, her practice was limited to an hour. Warrior type demons could train for thrice that. Their control would be better. Their power greater. Some would have innate traits that helped them grasp concepts and step into the manifestation realm.

  A few might even have the ultimate cheat, a mortal past life as a ki-wielding knight.

  So, while a one-year-old manifestation realm witch was surprising, only Esmeralda would be shocked. After all, of the planar nobles, only Lady Vallenfelt truly understood how mundane the World of Origin truly was.

  “I can’t even call myself a talent. I had to use a jade scroll. For some people, manifestation just clicks.”

  She was still a bit worried. Eventually, Sylvia would have to tell her teacher the truth.

  The secret of the thirteen Lucifers was no secret at all. Before his capture by Heaven, Lucifer tore from his soul twelve fragments. These fragments were hidden on the material worlds. There they were held in stasis, awaiting the right century in which to be reborn.

  Thirteen evil pieces, scattered across space and time.

  This cloning technique wasn’t unique. Splitting the soul and cultivating it by way of mortal flesh was an ancient method. The stronger the soul, the greater the talent. And nothing nurtured the soul like a newborn child. Once the fragment was properly grown it could be merged with the original.

  With a chance of insanity, of course.

  Clones grown this way were as much children as copies. While a soul would naturally seek to make itself whole, the mind was a more complicated affair.

  Lucifer’s hint was that Esmeralda had a clone. A clone which would be sympathetic to Sylvia’s plight.

  “The first years are most suspicious,” Sylvia mused. “But the third years are also a possibility.”

  Older students were unlikely, and the staff could be dismissed. Letting the soul mature and recultivate after returning to the nether was common sense. Letting it live an entirely separate life for decades or centuries was madness.

  “If I go by demeanor, it has to be Natalie Ward. If I assume Esmeralda is a good actor, it could be anyone.”

  Riley Smith could be laughing at her behind a faux tomboy facade. Emily Clark’s childish character might be a mere game. Heather Grenier a perfectly played mean girl charade.

  Ugh. Sylvia never liked mysteries.

  “I don’t want to think about it while my head is pounding. I’ll save the basic combat magic book for tomorrow morning. The last blank skill book has to wait until the preliminaries.”

  Heh. Maybe she’d get lucky and her teacher would hand her another jade scroll.

  …

  Fuck.

  Reminded, Sylvia slipped the jade scroll from her soul. The stone was dull and empty. Not a scrap of intent could be felt inside. She sighed.

  “You just had to take it all, didn’t you?”

  What’s done was done. All Sylvia could do was hope it was worth it.

  -oOo-

  A wooden ship floated over the Academy.

  It had three masts, one rising from the deck, two angled down from port and starboard. The sails were furled. A chain anchor had been dropped, holding the ship in place. It was a big beast, fifty meters from bow to stern. The scale was all the more impressive when looking up at it from below.

  The netherworld had many ships. Astral ships, that sailed the starry void. Ocean cruisers that plied the waters of a plane. This was an airship. A vessel that traveled the skies but couldn’t cross the void. Like the ships of yore, airships relied on wind to carry them to their destination.

  The biggest difference was that airships made their own wind.

  “No more than six at a time!” Professor Wright shouted.

  Fifty witches were boarding the vessel. This craft would bring them to Orasul Lunii, the capital of the Timeless Beryl Wilderness. Joyful students gossiped eagerly, imagining what they would see during the Festival of Light. Others were more interested in the Young Demon’s Tournament. A few lamented they would have no chance to join that festivity.

  To ride this transport required 500 soli. This price covered the ticket to and fro, as well as a stay at Baroness Vallenfelt’s guest house. Witches senior and junior were encouraged to attend. Not everyone could afford it. Sylvia’s ride was free. Emily had paid for hers out of pocket. The brunette had no lack of superbs.

  Riley?

  “You better pay me back,” Sylvia said.

  Sylvia had covered the blonde’s admission. Her stomach and taste buds were already filing their objection. Her subconscious had reviewed their case and acknowledged that both had standing.

  Riley’s bright green eyes shone grumpily. “If you’re going to keep reminding me all the way there and back I’d rather return my ticket.”

  “Two poors. Two acceptables. One superb,” Sylvia reminded, ruthlessly. “How long are you going to take, exactly?”

  “Sylvia,” Emily scolded. “Don’t be mean. Riley is doing her best.”

  The three of them entered a small boat. They were joined by a trio of older students, two with ruby dresses and one wearing sapphire. The tender took to the air, flying upward to meet its mother. Professor Fischer shadowed them on her broom. The golden haired witch had already been forced to save one too eager junior.

  Not wanting to add to Glenda’s troubles, Sylvia kept her butt firmly on her seat.

  Also, she was scared of heights.

  As all intelligent creatures were.

  Riley, on the other hand, happily peered over the edge, supporting Sylvia’s thesis.

  “Hard to believe we’ve been here for a year,” Riley commented. “Back then I was thinking about running away. Now, I’m trying to keep my grades up so I can stay.”

  “It’s only been twelve months,” Sylvia reminded. “There are thirteen months to a netherworld year.”

  “Thanks,” Riley said sarcastically.

  “I’m just trying to keep your grades up,” Sylvia answered with a smug tone. “That way you can pay me back faster.”

  Riley glared. The freckled blonde swung a hand in Sylvia’s direction. The silver-haired witch ducked, hand on her hat.

  “Don’t rock the boat!” an annoyed witch rebuked.

  “I hope next year is as wonderful as the first,” Emily said, dreamily.

  “I’d prefer to choose my own shoes,” Sylvia retorted. She glanced down at her charm club modified dress. “And my own clothes.”

  She’d also like to spend a few hours as a man, if only to remind herself what it felt like. Mostly though, she just wanted the right to choose.

  “Good luck,” Riley laughed. “At this rate, I’ll be out after fourth year and you’ll still be stuck playing dress up in your tenth.”

  Sylvia’s french braid jabbed the blonde in the face.

  “Hey.” Jab. Jab. “Stop that!”

  “Sorry, my hair got caught in the wind,” Sylvia deadpanned.

  Emily giggled. “I think Sylvia’s fallen in love with long hair.”

  “I might have,” Sylvia admitted.

  Now that she had good ki control, long hair had become too convenient. Sylvia could use it to grab cups, hold books, or do anything really where a third arm came in handy. If she ever had a ton of spare skill books, she might learn a few hair related arts.

  The brunette’s dark, emerald eyes shimmered. “You know if – ”

  “No.”

  “But – ”

  “I’m not putting my hair in pigtails,” Sylvia said bluntly.

  Emily deflated. “But it’d be so cute.”

  “And you’d have two extra arms instead of one,” Riley added, mischievously.

  “Right!” Emily cheered.

  “Sounds like Riley wants pigtails,” Sylvia commented, blandly. “Curly ones. With bows.”

  “Mmm,” Emily hummed. “It’s not the same.”

  Sylvia’s eye twitched. Why was Emily so fixated on her? Did the petite brunette get a special thrill from playing with a former man? Or was Sylvia too, too cute to the point Emily couldn’t resist?

  Thud.

  The tender docked with the airship. The frame jolted. Once the small boat stabilized, Sylvia stood. Nimbly, she moved onto the airship’s deck. The solid planks, head high railings, and the sheer scale of the ship made her feel secure. Ironic, because Sylvia knew she’d be safe even if she jumped off.

  Summoning her courage, Sylvia stepped up to the edge and looked down upon the ground below.

  The senior and junior dorms were set east and west of the resurrection pool. The gothic, stone structure was itself north of the Academic Building. As Sylvia’s gaze drifted south, she found the Academy Gates then the path down to the town of Vallen.

  Beyond lay the Daylight Forest. A sea of trees stretching all the way to the horizon, undulating with the hills and terrain. Further, she could spot the peaks of mountains. A distant spine separating the coastal forests from the true depths of the wilderness.

  To the north was the starry void. An ocean of stars. Void roiling atop Unus Mundus. If one traveled that void far enough, they might chance upon one of the other six-hundred and sixty-five major planes.

  “Incredible, isn’t it?”

  It was Piper who spoke. The redhead leaned against the railing, gazing out into the distance. The wind stirred the senior’s short ponytail.

  “A wilderness broad enough to cover a third of Europe. Only a fifth of it has been explored. There is nothing like it on Earth. Not anymore.”

  The Timeless Beryl Wilderness held a population of one-hundred and thirty-thousand. The city Eric had lived in dwarfed it ten times over. To Sylvia, the idea of vast swaths of unexplored territory was as unimaginable as humans walking on the moon to those three centuries back.

  “Makes you wonder how many secret places are hidden out there,” Riley said, joining the conversation.

  “And how many beautiful sites,” Emily added.

  “Never took you for an explorer,” Sylvia commented, turning to the petite brunette.

  “Flying on a broom, the wind in your hair, the land and sky laid out like a painting. Doesn’t it sound romantic?” Emily sighed.

  “Phantasmal beasts everywhere,” Sylvia teased. “Most of them driven more by the intent to kill rather than the desire to survive.”

  “Mmm!” Emily noised angrily.

  Piper laughed. “Sounds like the three of you belong in my explorers club.”

  Riley perked. “I didn’t think the explorers club recruited before third year.”

  “We don’t,” Piper admitted. “Not normally. Taking care of juniors is too much like babysitting. No offense. The Academy recruits girls between fifteen and thirty. So it’s not about age, it’s about magic. Magical Combat is a second year class, nobody wants the hassle of dealing with students that haven’t passed it. But, in your case, I think I can make an exception.”

  Piper’s silver eyes fell on Sylvia. The senior’s robes danced in the wind.

  “In other words, you’ll make me babysit,” Sylvia said, not bothering to mince her words.

  Riley gave the silver-haired witch a thumbs up.

  “We’re counting on you,” the freckled blonde said shamelessly.

  “But then we’d have to give up charm club,” Emily lamented. Then her shadowy, green eyes brightened. “I know! We can all dress up like magical girls. Then we can fly through the sky, fighting evil phantasms in the name of love and justice!”

  …

  …

  “I’m not punishing them in high heels,” Sylvia deadpanned.

  “I don’t know,” Piper said playfully. “You seem to fight pretty well while wearing them.”

  “Right!” Emily said excitedly. “We can combine the best of charm club and explorers club. Wouldn’t that be fun!”

  Piper’s gaze turned away from Sylvia’s friend to fall upon a witch with pinkish purple hair. Faith was hanging out near the stern, Tiffany at her side. Even at this distance, Sylvia could sense the senior’s slump.

  “I’ll see the three of you later,” Piper said, pushing away from the railing. “Don’t forget to sign up with my explorers club next year. I’ll take good care of you.”

  With a wave, Piper left.

  “Something happen?” Riley asked, glancing back and forth.

  In the distance, Piper patted Faith on the shoulder trying to cheer her.

  “Dispersion failure,” Sylvia explained. When the blonde gave her a flat eyed stare, Sylvia elaborated. “Her consolidation failed last week, so she won’t be joining the tournament.”

  “I feel so bad for her,” Emily lamented.

  “Don’t. Faith has her novice witch certificate. Save your tears for Riley. She’s the one who might flunk out.”

  Why cry over the suffering of the rich when the pains of the poor were always more terrible? That was Sylvia’s philosophy.

  “I’m not going to flunk out,” Riley growled for the umpteenth time.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let her!” Emily agreed, both fists clenched cutely. “But I can’t help but feel sorry for poor Faith. She put her heart into it only to fail just before reaching the starting line.”

  “Weigh anchor!”

  The first mate’s shout drowned out Emily’s concern.

  The trio turned to watch a one horned oni hoist the anchor. The sailors rushed around the deck while Professor Wright urged stray students out of the way. A siren flew overhead, circling the ship and checking the sails. The captain, a dog-eared man, reviewed the operation from his place at the helm.

  Baroness Esmeralda Vallenfelt stood beside him. The beautiful witch was akin to a child when placed beside the captain. Somehow, she radiated authority. Though, perhaps that was from the quick deference all the sailors showed to her presence.

  Thuft.

  Unfurled sails caught wind. Sylvia felt the pull through the planks beneath her. Professor Fischer flew in, dismounting her broom as she landed next to the dean. The two exchanged words unheard.

  Sylvia’s eyes were drawn back to the surface.

  The airship slipped through the sky. Vallen and the Academy grew distant, disappearing behind an endless sea of trees. Soon, they found themselves flying above the wild. No roads. No civilization. Just forest, hills, and streams as far as the eye could see.

  The coast wavered as they traveled west, the starry void twinkling outside the planar edge. A river rolled, coiling through the forest only to reach the land’s edge. Water poured off the cliffs of the shore, misty ether swept aside by the turbulent flows of chaos.

  Slowly, the sun dipped. After two hours, bright blue was brushed with vivid reds, oranges, and purples. The frozen hands of time’s clock ticked backward, revealing glorious sunrise.

  Sylvia swept a stray lock from her eyes, indulging in nature’s beauty. The whole world opened its arms in offered embrace.

  “We’re now above the Twilight Forest,” Professor Wright introduced like a tour guide. “Port Blaze will be coming up on your right in the next ten minutes.”

  Curious girls, crowded on the ship’s starboard side. Sylvia’s inclination was to avoid the gaggle, but Riley dragged the trio toward the rail. To the fore, the silver-haired witch made out the River of Fire.

  The River of Fire was the largest river in the Timeless Beryl Wilderness. It flowed north from the Frozen Wastes to dump into the starry void near Port Blaze.

  “I think I see it,” Riley said excitedly.

  “It’s so pretty,” Emily breathed.

  “And wet,” Sylvia supplied ruthlessly.

  The River of Fire was named for its appearance. The rising sun reflected off the rippling water, casting its length in a flaming glow. As the mighty river poured into the void, water essence broke down into ether. Port Blaze was like a bowl. The land shielded the coast from the astral currents, forming a natural harbor.

  As a result, the water ether rose. As it was drawn back into the plane, it was spun into mist and rain according to the logic of the plane. Hence, Port Blaze was forever wrapped in fog.

  And this fog, lit by the hue of dawn, made the land look as though it had been set on fire.

  “Dry enough up here,” Riley commented.

  The blonde wedged her toes between the rails so she could lift herself until the cross-beam was chest height. Sylvia understood the temptation. Being out and about among ordinary demons reminded Sylvia that she was absurdly short.

  And the whole world was annoyingly sized for persons six foot tall.

  “I’m just glad the preliminaries are in Orasul Lunii,” Sylvia said. “I’m looking forward to a proper night’s sleep after a year of endless morning.”

  “You are a dreadfully boring person, you know that.”

  “I went with you to Vallen,” Sylvia pointed out.

  “Mmm and you didn’t bring me,” Emily said, looking put out.

  Riley rolled her eyes. “You outright told us you would’ve reported us to the professors.”

  “You were breaking the rules,” Emily chided. “But you should’ve brought me anyway. That’s what friends do.”

  Sylvia decided to ignore the brunette’s unreasonableness.

  “I’m bringing you this time,” she pointed out before turning to the blonde. “And you can hardly call me boring when I’m the one participating in the tournament.”

  At the start, Sylvia wasn’t too interested in the tournament. However, as it approached she felt a growing fervor. A thrill tempered by anxiety. The silver-haired witch wanted to test her edge. To know how strong she was. Back when she descended to Vallen, Dumas had shattered her confidence.

  Now she hoped to get it all back.

  Was she strong? Could she face the phantasmal wildlife? Sylvia licked her lips, imagining the delicious experience points pouring into her like a flood.

  Even without the Devil’s impetus, power had its own addictive allure.

  “So, what should we do when we’re there?” Riley asked.

  “We should visit the shops and try on dresses,” Emily sang, spinning lightly on her toe. “Oh, and I want to see the midnight garden.”

  The blonde’s bright green eyes fell on Sylvia.

  “Food.” Did anything else need to be said? “I wouldn’t mind looking at the hunter's equipment.”

  She wanted to see the swords. Also, she wanted to use Observe Item to… uh... acquire merit points. Mostly though, she wanted to look at the swords. Yes. She was a witch. Swords were useless to her. So what? Swords were a man’s romance!

  If Emily could shop for clothes, then Sylvia could play with swords. It was only fair.

  “What about you?” Sylvia asked, turning to her friend.

  “Other than watching the tournament?” Riley asked. “I’d like to get out of the city and see what the wilderness is like. And maybe explore all the nooks and crannies. Being cooped up in the Academy has me going stir-crazy.”

  “Riley has so much energy,” Emily teased.

  “I do,” Riley agreed, raising a fist into the air.

  “Maybe next time, you’ll join the tournament,” Sylvia commented.

  “Mmm, mmm,” Emily sounded, nodding in agreement.

  “Sure, why not,” Riley grinned. “How are you holding up? Nervous.”

  “A little,” Sylvia admitted. “I’ve never been part of something this big in my entire life. Kind of crazy to think about it. Sylvia Swallows, world-famous gladiator.”

  Plane famous, anyway. The Timeless Beryl Wilderness was tiny compared to most of the major planes. Duat was twenty times bigger and had nine thousand times the population.

  Actually, Sylvia would be famous regardless. Her apprenticeship would be made official after the tournament.

  “You think you can win?”

  “I’m pretty confident,” Sylvia replied at the risk of sounding arrogant. “But if my luck’s shit, there’s nothing I can do.”

  Hell wasn’t big on fairness. For them, watching aloof experts get ganked was half the fun. The tournament wasn’t just a way to find the strongest. It was entertainment. An ancient Roman coliseum with a touch of sporting theatrics.

  If a bad roll of the dice set Sylvia against the strongest duelist in the tournament, she would lose.

  If she won but her team was garbage, she would be toast in the survival round.

  Skill and strength swayed the odds, but random chance could throw things for a loop. There was nothing Sylvia could do about that. Well. Actually. There was. Sylvia could pick up fate magic and spin probability in her favor.

  Top tier spells were a hack.

  “I believe in you Sylvia,” Emily said firmly. “You can win. I know it.”

  “Thanks,” Sylvia said, patting the adorable brunette. “But regardless, I’m stopping after the survival round.”

  Riley snorted a laugh. “What, not going to try your luck against Professor Fischer?”

  “I’m confident, not stupid,” Sylvia answered.

  Professor Fischer was a second consolidation witch. How was Sylvia even supposed to fight? She was ten skill books and two-hundred levels short of making a serious attempt at the under fifty bracket.

  Emily’s eyes were burning. “Believe in the me that believes in you.”

  …

  “Gurren Lagann?” Sylvia raised an eyebrow.

  Emily’s cheeks flushed adorably. “I watched it with my dad. But I made him watch my entire magical girl collection after. You’ll be my Sakura, and I’ll be your Tomoyo!”

  “I didn’t watch that one, so I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I did,” Riley said with quirked lips. “Card Captor Sakura. Tomoyo is the girl who’s always dressing Sakura up and videotaping her, right?”

  “Right!” Emily said cheerfully.

  …

  Sylvia felt a deep sense of despair.

  -oOo-

  Orasul Lunii "City of the Moon"

  Lord: Viscount Vilhelm Codrin, Demon King

  Time Zone: Night

  Population: 42,000

  GDP: 487 million soli

  Orasul Lunii is the capital of the Timeless Beryl Wilderness and the largest city, rivaled only by Port Blaze. The city is built on the coast of the Midnight Forest, the time corresponding 10:30 PM. The temperature is fixed at a cool but comfortable 50° Fahrenheit. There are occasional storms and rains, but the weather is usually clear.

  A large supermoon hangs permanently on the horizon. The main city gate and Castel Lunii are arranged so that entrants into the city capture the silhouette of the castle perfectly against the moon’s white glow. The city prizes beauty and artistry, with many works found along the main thoroughfare and the upper class district. However, the city does have a growing slums that services the slaves and the lower class.

  Orasul Lunii provides the plane’s main astral port along with ample docks for astral ships. It is the foremost hub of interplanar travel, though Port Blaze’s natural harbor should’ve been its superior. Beyond Vilhelm Codrin’s investments, Orasul Lunii owes its success to having been built on the Timeless Beryl Wilderness’s largest soul well. From this well roughly 380 pure souls appear every year.

  Port Blaze

  Lord: Baron Tadc Cair

  Time Zone: Twilight

  Population: 24,000

  GDP: 231 million soli

  Despite its name, Port Blaze is very wet. The water pouring into the void forms a perpetual cloud of mist that clings to the city. The outward fiery appearance is lost on the dwellers, for whom the city remains gray, dull, and clammy.

  Port Blaze is set on the River of Fire, which acts as a major trade artery into the deep wilderness. At the southernmost point of the river is Muguang Fortress, a popular spot for hunters. In addition to trade goods, Port Blaze has abundant water resources, making the territory a gift to natravores of the correct persuasion.

  Despite Port Blaze’s natural harbor, the lack of investment has left the city languishing. The mist and the fog also act as a deterrent to airships further hampering its growth.

  Vallen

  Lord: Baroness Esmeralda Vallenfelt, Laureate of Magic

  Time Zone: Day

  Population: 10,000

  GDP: 117 million soli

  A small fief built near the Fortress of Dawn. Baroness Vallenfelt selected the location for its strong astral flows that crash upon the plane’s shores. This results in high levels of chaos ether, which are drawn into the Academy to provide meditation points and to farm astral dew.

  Due to the currents, Vallen makes for a poor harbor. To support the territory, the land was carved to provide a small dock for ships coming into the Fortress of Dawn. Trade heavily relies on airships, most of which likewise dock at the Fortress.

  Investment wise, the Starlight Nether Witch Academy receives most of the Baroness’s love. However, the fief also sports good roads and good order. Hunters seeking resources from the Daylight Fortress but aiming to avoid the deep wilderness often gather in the town. Those wishing for stronger game settle in Clara Arbores instead.

  Vallen marks the easternmost claim on the plane by Hell. However, further east can be found Sunlight Harbor, the sole town controlled by the Fey Federation.