For three days, Kain prepared the place where strangers would decide what to do with him.
From dawn until dusk, he worked on the old training ground behind the garrison barracks. The militia of Oksen had once assembled there. Now half the fence had rotted away, the awning sagged beneath the snow, and last year's grass covered the running track.
Arnwald found every task the soldiers had postponed for the past several years.
Kain hauled logs, filled holes, set posts, and repaired the ladder by the wall.
"Deeper," the captain said as he examined another post.
"It's already standing."
Arnwald pushed it with his shoulder.
The post swayed.
"Deeper."
"If I bury it any deeper, it'll come out on the other side of Terra."
"Then retrieve it there and start again."
Kain pulled the post from the ground.
By the end of the first day, blisters covered his palms.
By the end of the second, the blisters had burst.
On the third, he wrapped his hands in strips of cloth and stopped noticing the pain.
Four garrison soldiers and several volunteers worked beside him. They set up targets, stretched ropes, marked the running track, and built a wooden climbing wall with crossbars.
Three awnings were prepared for the commission.
The clerks' tables stood beneath the first.
Wooden weapons, scales, measuring ropes, and medical supplies were placed beneath the second.
The third stood apart from the smithy and armory. Beneath it were a single table and a high chair.
Nothing else.
"Will they test strength there?" Kain asked.
Arnwald followed his gaze.
"Aptitude."
"Is there a difference?"
"A great one. Aptitude tells us that you may become a warrior. Strength shows us what you actually became."
"And if the artifact shows nothing?"
"Then you'll become an ordinary soldier."
"Very reassuring."
"Most of the people holding the Empire's walls are ordinary soldiers."
Arnwald looked at him.
"They die every bit as well as knights. They usually talk less, though."
Healers, engineers, and logistics specialists would be examined separately.
They did not require energy resonance.
A healer had to prove an ability to stop bleeding, identify illness, and avoid killing a patient with the wrong herb.
An engineer had to show an ability to calculate, understand structural loads, and build bridges without relying on miracles.
"Where do they go after the examination?" Kain asked.
"The best will be sent to Avalon. To the imperial schools."
"With the Academy candidates?"
"To the same capital. Not to the knight corps."
"Then Ilva might go to Avalon too."
"If she passes."
"She will."
Arnwald raised an eyebrow.
"Have you joined the commission?"
"No. I just know Ilva."
"Then you should know what she thinks of people who answer for her."
Kain looked toward the distant awning.
Ilva was helping her mother arrange bandages and pouches of herbs.
"She'll pass," he repeated more quietly.
Every night after work, Kain went to Halvar's smithy.
The old smith would not let him take up a sword.
He would not allow him to kindle the Flame.
He did not even teach him to call the Spark.
Kain stood barefoot on the cold earthen floor, closed his eyes, and listened to his own heart.
"Slower," Halvar said.
"It beats by itself."
"That is why you must learn to hear it. The heart does not ask permission, but that does not mean you cannot answer it."
Kain inhaled.
Held the breath.
Released it slowly.
The familiar pressure formed beneath his breastbone.
Not heat.
Not strength.
More like the sense that someone behind a closed door had placed a hand on the latch.
Kain reached toward it.
The sensation vanished.
"Too greedy," Halvar said.
"I'm only trying to hold it."
"You're trying to seize it."
"What's the difference?"
Halvar struck him across the shin with a wooden stick.
"The difference is that you still don't know how to hold anything."
By the third night, Kain could preserve the sensation for several heartbeats.
Not strengthen it.
Not open the door.
Simply avoid frightening it away.
Halvar stood in front of him.
"The words."
Kain knew which ones.
"Blod min, vil min."
My blood. My will.
"Again."
"Blod min, vil min."
"Do not demand obedience from the blood. Remind it whom it belongs to."
Kain repeated the words more quietly.
The pressure beneath his breastbone remained.
For a single instant, warmth passed through his right palm.
He opened his eyes.
"Was that the Spark?"
"No."
"But you felt it?"
"I felt you rush to name something you still do not understand."
Kain lowered his hands.
"Will you ever tell me I've done something well?"
"When you do something well."
At dawn on the third day, dust rose above the northern road.
The commission arrived without horns or banners.
Two riders led the way. A covered carriage followed them, then a wagon carrying chests and four mounted escorts.
Imperial clasps marked their cloaks, but none of them looked as though they had come for a celebration.
The first rider wore a dark traveling cloak over mail.
He was about thirty-five, with short light-brown hair. A clasp shaped like a raven with spread wings marked his left shoulder—the emblem of House Corvein.
His sword hung high and did not hinder him in the saddle.
A woman in a gray cloak lined with dark blue rode beside him. Her black hair was pinned at the back of her head. Thin rings covered in tiny writing gleamed on her fingers.
Kain saw no weapon.
But a flat black case hung from her belt, and none of the escorts seemed willing to touch it.
Arnwald met them at the training-ground gate.
The knight dismounted.
The captain extended his right hand.
They clasped each other's forearms just above the wrist in the old warrior's greeting. Brief and firm. It allowed both men to feel that the other's hand was empty and his grip sure.
"Captain Arnwald Skell."
"Sir Reynar Corvein."
They released each other.
The woman stopped beside them.
"Magister Liara Savren, Academy Tower."
Arnwald greeted her with a short bow of the head.
"Oksen is ready to receive the commission."
Reynar surveyed the training ground.
His gaze lingered on the new posts, the targets, and Kain, who stood beside the fence holding a shovel.
"Is he part of the preparations as well?"
"Public labor."
"For what?"
"Assaulting the garrison guard."
Reynar looked at Kain again.
"And he is registered?"
"As a candidate for the Academy."
For several moments, the knight said nothing.
"Interesting."
Kain did not like the way he said it.
Liara's gaze moved from his bruised cheek to his bandaged palms.
"Age?"
"Sixteen."
"Northern training?"
"Elementary. He has heard the Call. No confirmed Spark."
"Aura?"
"No training."
"Literacy?"
"Reads, writes, and calculates."
Reynar raised an eyebrow.
"A suspiciously favorable description of a man whose first encounter with state service involved attacking its representatives."
"The Empire first encountered him sixteen years ago," Arnwald replied. "It simply paid no attention until this week."
The corner of Liara's mouth moved almost imperceptibly.
Reynar remained serious.
"Form up the candidates in one hour."
The commission took possession of the training ground quickly.
Folding tables, branch placards, and sealed boxes came out of the carriage. The clerks arranged their forms. The soldiers checked the weapons, targets, and obstacle course.
Liara placed a high chair beneath a separate awning.
Then she opened the black case.
Inside lay a sphere the size of a small apple.
Transparent.
At first glance, entirely ordinary.
Liara took it in her left hand and surveyed the training ground for several moments.
"Move the table," she said.
"Why?" one of the escorts asked.
"Too close to the smithy."
"Does iron interfere with the artifact?"
"No. The smith interferes with my ability to hear myself think."
At that moment, a hammer struck in the smithy.
The soldier silently took hold of the table.
Forty-seven candidates had gathered by the appointed hour.
More than Kain had expected.
The youngest was probably fifteen. The oldest was close to forty. Hunters, lumberjacks, fishermen, mill workers, the wheelwright's apprentice, and several young people from neighboring homesteads had come.
Candidates for the healing, engineering, and logistics services stood separately.
Kain saw Ilva among the healers.
She held her mother's bag and looked calmer than most.
Toren stood with the volunteers seeking places in the Northern Warband. He had cleaned his coat, but forest mud still clung to his boots.
"Nervous?" Kain asked.
"No."
"You're lying."
"Yes."
A separate placard stood before the five Academy candidates.
All five were young men.
Kain was the poorest dressed, though not the only commoner. A merchant's son stood beside him, along with two young men from garrison families and the son of a warehouse steward.
Sir Reynar stepped before the formation.
The conversations ceased.
"Listen carefully," he said. "I will not repeat myself."
He spoke in Avaren. A local clerk stood nearby, ready to translate difficult passages into Valsk.
"You have applied to different branches. That does not oblige the commission to keep you on the path you chose."
Several people exchanged glances.
"The Empire needs more than knights, mages, and heroes from ballads. It needs soldiers. Garrison staff. Legionaries. Scouts. Drivers. Clerks. People who can hold a spear, repair a road, count supplies, and remain at their posts when the Horde first cries out."
Reynar let his gaze travel across the formation.
"If you are unsuited to the Academy, you may be assigned to the legion or a garrison. If you are unsuited to the Northern Warband, that does not mean you cannot serve as an ordinary soldier. The absence of a rare gift does not make a person useless."
A young man in the first rank raised his hand.
"May we refuse?"
"Before taking the oath, yes. Afterward, only through the process established by law."
Reynar indicated the distant awning.
"Healers, engineers, and logistics specialists take separate examinations. The energy artifact will not be used on them."
"Why?" someone asked.
"Because a stitch holds through the healer's skill, and a bridge through the engineer's calculations. Not through the color of a glowing glass sphere."
He turned to Liara.
"Magister."
She stepped forward.
The sphere rested on her open left palm.
Barely visible lines moved within the transparent material, like impossibly fine threads sealed inside glass.
"This is a resonance sphere," Liara said. "It does not measure strength. It does not prove mastery of any system, and it does not predict the future."
She raised the sphere slightly.
"The artifact reveals affinity only: the form of energy interaction to which your body responds most naturally."
Liara turned her palm so the candidates could see the sphere.
"I hold the artifact from below. The subject places an open palm on top. Do not press. Do not attempt to call power. Do not imagine fire, lightning, an ancient hero, or yourself on a white horse."
Several people laughed.
"The sphere will not be impressed," Liara finished.
She touched its surface with one finger.
Dim red runes flared across the sphere.
"Red runes indicate a possible affinity with the Blood of the Gods. Those candidates are sent to the capital of Valskar, to the royal training center. There, the resonance is tested again before training in the Call and the controlled Spark begins."
A girl among the volunteers raised her hand.
"Women too?"
Liara looked at her.
"Red resonance is rare among northern women, but possible. Those who complete the training become Battle Sisters."
Someone beyond the fence said softly:
"She-Wolves."
Liara nodded.
"In common speech, the She-Wolves. The demands and the price of the Blood are the same for them as for men."
She drew her finger across the sphere.
The red runes vanished.
Fine golden lines appeared inside.
"Golden resonance indicates an ability to gather and retain energy within the body. It suggests a possible affinity with Aura."
The lines folded around the center of the sphere and faded.
"This resonance can manifest only in men. A woman's body does not form an internal Aura core."
The same girl asked:
"Then a woman cannot become a knight?"
"Not a knight. Knighthood requires Aura. But a woman may become a soldier, an officer, a mage, a healer, an engineer, a Battle Sister, or command men whom a knight's cloak has failed to teach how to think."
Someone coughed discreetly.
Sir Reynar looked at Liara.
She continued without changing expression:
"Men with golden resonance are sent to Avalon for further examinations at the Imperial Military Academy. The sphere does not guarantee that a candidate can form a core. It shows only the possibility."
A blue spiral appeared on the sphere's surface.
"An elemental symbol indicates magical affinity. Fire, water, air, stone, or a rarer form of resonance. Sex is irrelevant."
"Does it happen often?" Toren asked.
"Outside Osmantis, in roughly one person in a hundred. Sometimes fewer. Those born in Osmantis usually undergo their first examinations in their own Towers. Magical resonance discovered here results in assignment to the Academy Tower in Avalon."
"And if there is nothing?" a broad-shouldered lumberjack asked.
The sphere became transparent again.
"Then there is nothing," Liara replied.
"I'm not fit to serve?"
"This examination alone will not make you a mage, a knight, or a warrior of the Blood. But you may become a legionary, a garrison soldier, a scout, or receive another military assignment."
Reynar added:
"Most people who defend the Empire will never make an artifact shine. That does not prevent them from holding a wall after the gifted have exhausted their power."
After the explanation, the candidates were divided into groups.
The healers and engineers were taken beneath the distant awning.
Everyone else began with a review of documents and a brief interview.
Kain was called among the first.
He stepped beneath the awning.
Reynar, Liara, and a clerk sat behind the table.
A copy of the local court's ruling lay before the knight.
"Kain Alseif," he read. "Sixteen. Free subject. Born in Oksen. Candidate for the Imperial Military Academy."
"Yes."
"Three days ago, you attacked the garrison guard."
"Yes."
Reynar looked up.
"You are not even going to argue?"
"You counted the days correctly."
Liara lowered her eyes to the papers.
"Why did you attack them?"
"A guard pulled my sister away from our goat. She fell."
"And you decided to seize his sword."
"He drew it first."
"Did that make the weapon the property of whoever could grasp it faster?"
"No."
"Then why did you grab it?"
"To stop him from striking me."
Reynar leaned back in his chair.
"Do you always answer as though you are standing before a court?"
"It has been a useful skill this past week."
"Why the Academy?"
"Because the decree opened the examinations."
"I did not ask why you were allowed to apply. I asked why you wanted to."
Kain was silent for a moment.
"I want to learn how to protect my family."
"You could join the garrison for that."
"I want more."
"What, exactly?"
"I don't know."
"Poor answer."
"But an honest one."
Reynar tapped the court ruling with a finger.
"The Academy is not a place where angry boys go to receive better weapons."
"I'm not asking for a weapon."
"You have already tried to take one from a soldier."
Kain felt his jaw tighten.
But he remained silent.
Reynar noticed.
"That was better."
"What was?"
"You thought before answering."
"Halvar is trying to teach me the same thing."
"Then listen more carefully."
The knight closed the court record.
"Talent is not a virtue. Until it is given a name, it is merely a danger. Even if the sphere reveals an affinity, that will excuse neither your temper nor your disobedience."
"Understood."
"No. Heard. Understanding is tested later."
Liara turned the page.
"Your mother was born in Osmantis?"
"Yes."
"Which city?"
"I don't know."
"Did she receive magical training?"
"No."
"Are you certain?"
"She sews, writes letters, and knows ordinary herbs. I've never seen anything magical."
"Magic does not always manifest as lightning from the fingers."
"Then I don't know."
"Your father?"
"Unknown to me."
"Only his name, or his origins as well?"
"Everything."
Liara held his gaze.
"Your mother never told you?"
"No."
"Why?"
"You should ask her."
The clerk prepared to write down the answer, but Liara raised a hand.
"No need."
Reynar closed the folder.
"Next stage."
The literacy examination took place in the old warehouse.
Short orders and calculations lay on the tables.
Academy candidates had to read an instruction, explain its meaning, and solve several supply problems.
Kain received a problem about a small fort.
The fort held eighty-three soldiers. Its provisions would last nine days. Seventeen wounded men and twelve escorts were due to arrive.
He had to determine how many days the food would last after their arrival.
Kain read the problem twice.
Then he raised his hand.
A clerk approached.
"What is your question?"
"Do the wounded receive full rations?"
"The problem does not say."
"Will the escorts remain at the fort?"
"It does not say that either."
"Then there is no exact answer."
"Calculate full rations for everyone arriving."
"That should have been stated."
The clerk pressed his lips together.
"Do the calculation."
Kain did.
His answer was correct.
The second task asked which instruction should be obeyed: an older written order to hold a bridge or a new verbal message from an unknown rider ordering a retreat.
Kain wrote:
Hold the bridge. Detain the rider until his identity is confirmed. Send a message to the commander and prepare to withdraw without abandoning the position before receiving orders.
Reynar read the answer.
"Why prepare to withdraw before you have an order?"
"Because the rider may be telling the truth."
"Then why not retreat at once?"
"Because he may be lying."
"So you are capable of doubt after all."
"Sometimes."
"Use it more often."
The physical examinations began after noon.
The candidates ran around the training-ground wall, carried sacks of sand, climbed crossbars, and crossed a low palisade.
Years of road and sawmill work had made Kain stronger than many of them.
But Toren moved more easily.
Where Kain jumped, Toren climbed. Where Kain tried to race ahead, Toren kept a steady pace.
On the final lap, Kain caught him.
"Tired?" he asked.
"No."
"You sound like Halvar's bellows."
"I'm saving my strength to answer your questions."
They crossed the line almost together.
Reynar recorded the result.
"Alseif."
Kain approached.
"You started too quickly."
"But I finished."
"On a real march, there would be another twenty miles after this."
"Then I'll start more slowly."
"Did you know that before I pointed it out?"
Kain looked at Toren.
"Now I know for certain."
"That is the difference between error and stupidity," Reynar said. "An error is corrected. Stupidity is defended."
The weapons examination used wooden swords, spears, and bows.
Toren performed well in the archery test. Three arrows landed close together. The fourth went high.
"The wind," he said.
The commission soldier looked at the motionless flag.
"Naturally."
Kain was matched against a senior member of the commission's escort—a broad-shouldered soldier of about twenty-five carrying a wooden sword and round shield.
"Three clean touches," Reynar explained. "No strikes to the head. Stop on command."
Kain raised his sword.
The soldier took his stance calmly, almost lazily.
"Begin."
Kain attacked first.
The shield caught his blow.
In the next instant, the wooden blade touched his chest.
"One," Reynar said.
Kain stepped back.
The second attempt ended almost the same way. He feinted high and tried to move around the side, but the soldier met him with the edge of his shield and touched his shoulder.
"Two."
"He's only defending," Kain said.
"And you are only losing," Reynar replied.
Kain raised the sword again.
This time, he did not rush forward.
The soldier waited.
Kain took one step.
Then another.
A short thrust made his opponent raise the shield. Kain abandoned the attack and retreated.
The soldier followed.
Kain waited until the man shifted his weight forward, moved aside, and struck the exposed thigh.
"Two to one."
The next exchange lasted longer.
Kain took a blow from the shield and barely remained upright, but managed to touch his opponent's side with the sword.
"Two to two."
The soldier stopped smiling.
He began the final attack.
Several heavy blows forced Kain backward. Kain tried to move aside, but his heel dropped into a hollow.
The wooden blade stopped beside his neck.
"Three to two," Reynar announced. "Finished."
Kain lowered his weapon.
"You change your approach quickly," the knight said.
"Is that good?"
"It is an observation."
"Is that all I'll ever get from you?"
"You will get more when you earn it."
The professional examinations continued beneath the distant awning.
Ilva was splinting the arm of a soldier pretending to be wounded.
He frowned.
"Too tight."
"Move your fingers."
He did.
"Can you?"
"Yes."
"Has the color changed?"
"No."
"Then it isn't too tight."
Next, she was given five pouches of plants.
She named four at once.
She smelled the fifth, crushed it between her fingers, and said:
"A large dose will stop the heart."
The examiner nodded.
"And a small one?"
"It will relieve pain and slow breathing. I would not give it to someone with a chest wound."
"Why?"
"He might stop breathing before he stops feeling pain."
The next task was triage.
Five wooden tablets described different cases: a broken leg, a deep cut, a burn, an abdominal wound, and unconsciousness without visible bleeding.
Ilva arranged the order of treatment.
"The unconscious patient first," she said. "Check breathing. Then the abdominal wound. Then the bleeding. The burn and fracture can wait if their condition does not worsen."
"What if the man with the fracture is shouting to be treated first?"
"Then he has enough air to shout."
The corner of the examiner's mouth twitched.
By evening, the first notation appeared beside Ilva's name:
Professional examination passed. Recommended for the Imperial School of Healing in Avalon.
She read the entry three times.
"You're smiling," Kain said.
"Don't invent things."
"Your face looks less angry."
"I'm only looking at the paper."
"For the third time."
"I'm making sure my name hasn't vanished."
"Paper doesn't vanish."
Ilva looked at him.
"Three days ago, you drowned a state record in ink."
"It didn't vanish either. It only became easier to understand."
The energy examination came last.
The sun had begun to set, but the training ground remained crowded. Relatives stood beyond the fence. Even those who had completed their examinations stayed.
Liara sat beneath the separate awning.
The sphere rested in her left palm.
A young lumberjack who had applied to the legion went first.
"Palm on top," Liara said. "Do not press."
He placed his hand on the sphere.
Nothing happened.
The young man waited.
"Is that all?"
"That is all."
His shoulders sank.
Reynar looked at the records.
"Strong physical result. Follows orders. Recommended for the Oksen garrison or a northern auxiliary regiment."
The young man looked at the sphere.
"But it showed nothing."
"The sphere told us you are not a mage, do not carry Aura, and have no pronounced resonance with the Blood," Reynar replied. "It did not say you are incapable of holding a shield."
A young man from a garrison family went next.
He had applied to the Academy.
A fine golden line appeared inside the sphere.
It rose from Liara's palm toward the candidate's hand and coiled around the center.
"Stable resonance with internal accumulation," the magister said. "Possible affinity with Aura."
The young man smiled.
Reynar raised a finger.
"Possible. Until a core forms, you do not possess Aura."
A girl hoping to enter the garrison went next.
When her palm touched the sphere, a blue symbol flared in its depths.
It resembled a spiral surrounded by tiny silver points.
The crowd gasped.
Liara watched the symbol closely.
"Air affinity."
"Am I a mage?" the girl asked.
"You have the aptitude. Training will reveal the rest."
Reynar looked at her results.
"Good literacy. Satisfactory physical fitness. Assignment to the Academy Tower in Avalon."
The girl removed her hand without taking her eyes from the sphere.
"I've never traveled beyond the district town."
"Now you will," Liara said.
A northern girl of about seventeen followed her.
She had applied to the garrison, but a single red rune appeared on the sphere's surface.
Then a second appeared beside it.
Fainter than the first.
The people beyond the fence began to talk.
"A woman..."
"A She-Wolf..."
"Not a She-Wolf yet," Liara said without raising her voice.
The conversations stopped.
"Rare but distinct resonance with the Blood of the Gods. Recommended for the royal training center in Valskar. Final decision after examination of the heart and blood vessels."
The girl stared at the runes as though afraid to blink.
"May I refuse?"
"Until you take the oath."
"I won't."
When Toren's name was called, he approached more slowly than usual.
Kain saw his friend wipe his palm on his coat.
"Afraid you'll soil the sphere?" Liara asked.
"Afraid the sphere will soil me."
"That would be an interesting case."
Toren placed his palm on top.
Nothing happened at first.
Then runes appeared around his fingers.
One.
Three.
Five.
They flared dark red and spread across the sphere's surface like embers beneath clear ice.
Toren did not pull his hand away, but his shoulders tensed.
"Pronounced resonance with the Blood of the Gods," Liara said. "No active Spark."
Toren removed his hand.
"Is that good?"
"It means your body is suited to the northern path. How far you follow it will depend on you, not the sphere."
Reynar checked the results.
"Physical examination passed. Good with a bow. Literacy sufficient. Recommended for the royal training center of the Blood of the Gods in the capital of Valskar. Assignment to a warband after initial training."
Toren released his breath.
Beyond the fence, his father struck a fist against his own chest.
"Ved blod og ed," Toren said quietly.
By blood and oath.
He stepped over to Kain.
"Your turn."
"There are still two ahead of me."
"Not anymore."
The clerk called his name:
"Kain Alseif!"
Kain looked at the table.
Liara waited.
Marta stood beyond the fence beside Mia.
Halvar stood a little apart, his arms crossed over his chest.
Arnwald was near Reynar, watching closely.
Kain approached.
From this distance, the sphere did not look like glass.
A faint white haze moved slowly inside it.
"Which hand?" he asked.
"The right."
"Why?"
"Because you held a shovel with your left this morning and strained your wrist."
Kain looked at his bandaged palms.
"You noticed?"
"Unlike you, I look before I act."
He placed his right palm on top.
The sphere was cold.
Not like winter metal.
The cold felt deeper, as though the artifact touched bone rather than skin.
"Do not press," Liara said.
"I'm not."
"Then your idea of rest is remarkably tense."
Kain exhaled slowly.
Nothing happened.
Someone beyond the fence whispered.
He could not make out the words.
Liara did not remove the sphere.
"Do not try to call the Blood."
"I'm not trying."
"You are."
Kain exhaled again.
He remembered the smithy.
The beat of his heart.
The closed door.
Blod min, vil min.
Do not demand.
Remind.
Pressure formed beneath his breastbone.
A red rune flared on the sphere's surface.
Then a second.
They burned more faintly than Toren's and trembled as though unable to decide whether to remain or vanish.
"Northern resonance," Arnwald said quietly.
Liara did not answer.
A golden line appeared inside the sphere.
It rose from her palm toward Kain's hand.
Split in two.
Then into four.
The fine threads began to coil around an empty point at the sphere's center.
Reynar stepped closer.
"Aura?"
"Resonance with internal accumulation," Liara replied. "Stable."
The red runes continued to burn.
The golden lines tightened around the center.
At the same time.
Kain felt cold rise through his wrist.
The pressure in his chest grew stronger.
But now, something else waited beyond the closed door.
Not his blood.
Not the warmth he had heard in the smithy.
Something on the other side seemed to notice his touch.
A pallid mist appeared inside the sphere.
Liara's eyes snapped up.
"Do not move."
"I'm not moving."
The mist darkened.
For an instant, something like a second bottom opened deep within the sphere.
Dark blue.
Almost black.
Not a reflection or a shadow.
More like an abyss descending far deeper than the small sphere could possibly contain.
The golden lines jerked toward it.
The red runes went out.
An unfamiliar symbol passed across the inner surface of the sphere.
A circle split by a jagged line.
Kain heard a quiet sound.
Not a voice.
More like a distant breath.
Liara closed her fingers around the sphere.
The light vanished.
The cold broke off.
Kain pulled his hand away.
For several seconds, no one spoke.
Liara looked at the artifact hidden between her palms.
"What happened?" Reynar asked.
"A dual resonance."
"I saw a third."
"The artifact produced a distortion."
"What kind?"
"Unknown."
Reynar looked at her.
"That is not an answer mages like to give aloud."
"Which is why I advise you to remember it."
Kain looked from one to the other.
"Did I break the sphere?"
"No," Liara replied.
"Then what did it show?"
She loosened her fingers slightly.
The sphere was transparent again.
"The red runes indicate northern affinity. The golden lines indicate an ability to accumulate energy internally."
"The Blood and Aura?"
"The potential to develop both systems."
Reynar frowned.
"Where do we send him? The northern resonance requires the capital of Valskar. Aura requires Avalon."
"Avalon."
"Why?"
"Because the Blood can be confirmed later. The unknown resonance requires the Academy Tower and more precise artifacts."
"The Academy or the Tower?"
"Both, at first."
Liara looked at the clerk.
"Record: pronounced aptitude for internal accumulation. Secondary northern resonance. Unidentified artifact reaction. Send to Avalon for repeated examination by the Academy and the Academy Tower. Do not assign before evaluation."
The pen scratched across the paper.
Kain kept his eyes on the sphere.
"So I passed?"
Reynar answered first:
"You are admitted to the next stage."
"Does that mean yes?"
"It means exactly what I said."
"Very convenient language."
"It is called Avaren."
Liara returned the sphere to its case.
Before closing the lid, she ran her thumb over the place where the dark symbol had appeared.
Her face remained calm.
Only her movements had become more careful.
The final results were announced after sunset.
Five lists were posted on the garrison wall.
The first named those accepted for further training in the Blood of the Gods.
Beside Toren's name were the words:
Toren Hast.
Royal Training Center, capital of Valskar.
After confirmation, assignment to a Northern Warband.
The name of the girl whose sphere had shown red runes appeared on the same list.
Beside it was a note:
Candidate for the Battle Sisters.
The second list named candidates for the garrison, the legion, and ordinary military service.
More than half of those examined appeared there.
Some had received no response from the sphere but performed well in the run, drill test, or archery.
The third list named the magical candidates.
The girl with the air symbol was assigned to the Academy Tower in Avalon.
The fourth named healers, engineers, and logistics specialists.
Kain found Ilva's name:
Ilva Norn.
Imperial School of Healing, Avalon.
Admitted to training in the capital.
She read the line again.
"Avalon," she said.
"You wanted to serve as a healer," Kain said.
"I did."
"Then what's wrong?"
Ilva looked at him.
"There is a difference between wanting to leave and having a real road before you."
"What difference?"
"Once the road appears, you have to say goodbye."
The fifth list contained the Academy candidates.
Two were assigned to further Aura examinations in Avalon.
Two were reassigned to the legion and the garrison.
Beside Kain's name were the words:
Kain Alseif.
Imperial Military Academy, Avalon.
Repeat energy examination at the Academy Tower.
Status: undetermined candidate.
Travel under the supervision of Magister Liara Savren.
Toren read the entry over his shoulder.
"Congratulations. You are officially something no one can define."
"I used to be simply nobody. This is a promotion."
"'Under supervision' sounds bad," Ilva said.
"'Undetermined' sounds worse."
"At least they didn't send you to the garrison."
"I'd make a good soldier."
Toren smirked.
"You attacked soldiers three days ago."
"Which means I understand the enemy."
He looked at Toren's entry.
"You're going to the capital of Valskar."
"Yes."
"And Ilva and I are going to Avalon."
Toren was silent for several moments.
"Then we won't travel together."
Until that moment, Kain had not thought about it.
Toren had been beside him for almost his entire life.
They had gone into the forest together, fought boys from South Street, hauled stones on the road, and once spent three days hiding from Halvar after sinking his new tongs in the river.
For some reason, Kain had assumed the road would be shared too.
Though no one had promised that.
"When do you leave?" he asked.
"In four days. The northern detachment is assembling separately."
"We leave in five."
"Then we still have time for a fight."
Ilva looked at them.
"You could say goodbye without fighting."
Toren and Kain turned toward her at the same time.
"No," they said.
"I thought so."
"Alseif," Reynar called.
The knight stood at the entrance to the barracks.
Liara was beside him with the black case.
Kain approached.
"In five days, you leave for Avalon with the imperial group," Reynar said. "On the road, you will obey me and Magister Savren."
"How long will it take?"
"Several weeks to the capital, if the roads remain open."
Kain looked at the list.
Avalon had always sounded like a word from someone else's life.
"What if the second examination shows nothing?"
"The golden resonance was clear enough," Liara replied. "But even an affinity with Aura does not guarantee that you can form a core."
"Then will I be sent home?"
"No," Reynar said. "If you remain in service, you will be assigned to a legion or garrison."
"What about the northern resonance?"
"Training in the Blood takes place in Valskar," Liara replied. "The Academy does not teach the Blood of the Gods."
"At all?"
"At all. Avalon works with Aura and magic. The northern path belongs to northern masters."
"Then Toren will learn what no one there will teach me."
"If he survives the training."
"And me?"
Liara looked at him.
"First, we determine exactly what you can develop without harming yourself or anyone around you."
"Reassuring."
Reynar folded his hands behind his back.
"On the road, fighting, leaving the group without permission, attempts to call the Spark, and all experiments with internal energy are forbidden."
"I don't know how to call Aura."
"Excellent," Liara said. "Continue not knowing until we reach Avalon."
"For several weeks?"
"You will be surprised how quickly a person learns patience when the alternative is damage to the heart."
Reynar looked at Kain.
"Undetermined does not mean special."
"I didn't say it did."
"But you thought it."
Kain remained silent.
The knight nodded.
"Perhaps the Academy is not entirely without hope."
He left.
Liara remained.
"Show me your hand."
Kain extended his palm.
She examined his fingers and wrist.
"Do you feel cold?"
"A little."
"Where?"
"From my palm to my elbow."
Liara placed two fingers against his pulse.
A fine wave passed beneath the skin.
"Did you hear anything during the examination?"
Kain remembered the distant breath.
"Not a voice."
Her fingers went still.
"Then what?"
"As though someone inhaled very far away."
"An image?"
"A circle. Split by a line."
"Anything else?"
"No."
She released his hand.
Quietly, almost soundlessly, she spoke in Osmar:
"Asha dar. Keth ma. Zair ma aenir."
Kain recognized only the first word.
Asha.
Breath.
Life force.
"What does it mean?"
"Energy is present. Structure undetermined. Anchor unknown."
"The anchor of what?"
"That is what we must discover."
Liara closed the case.
"Until departure, perform only Halvar's breathing exercises. Do not attempt to call the Spark."
"I don't have one."
"Three days ago, you did not have an assignment to Avalon either. The world changes faster than your certainty can become truth."
She followed Reynar.
Kain returned to his friends.
Halvar was already speaking with Toren's father.
Arnwald was taking old training shields down from the wall.
Marta waited at the exit from the training ground.
Mia stood beside her, holding her hand.
Kain approached.
"Five days," he said.
"I heard."
"They're sending me to Avalon."
"I heard that too."
Mia looked up at him.
"Did you pass?"
Kain glanced at the list.
"For now, they've decided not to throw me out."
"That isn't an answer."
"Then yes. But not completely."
"That's foolish."
"At last, someone understands how the Empire works."
Marta was looking at his right hand.
"What did the sphere show?"
"The Blood of the Gods. Aura. Then something else."
Her fingers tightened around Mia's hand.
"What?"
"They don't know."
"Did the magister ask about me?"
"Yes."
"What did you tell her?"
"That you're from Osmantis. That you never studied magic."
Marta nodded slowly.
"And your father?"
"That I don't know his name."
"That is true."
"Not all of it."
She looked away.
Kain wanted to continue.
But he remembered Halvar's words.
First decide what you want to achieve.
He would receive no answer now.
Only another argument before the journey.
"I'll come home after work," he said.
"There will be no more work today. Arnwald counted the preparation of the training ground as a full day."
"Generous man."
"No. He simply understands how little time you have left at home."
"I'm not disappearing."
Marta looked at him.
"A first road rarely ends where a person intended to go."
Mia released her hand and took Kain's fingers.
Behind them, the wind stirred the sheets of names on the wall.
Toren was going to the capital of Valskar to learn how to hear his own blood.
Ilva was going to Avalon to save the lives of people she did not yet know.
The others had received clear assignments: garrison, legion, Tower, engineering school, or school of healing.
Only one word beside Kain's name explained nothing.
Undetermined.
A week earlier, it would have sounded like an insult.
Now it had become the name of a road.
Dark.
Cold.
Leading no one knew where.
But open.