Chapter 2 — Down Is a Matter of Perspective
Mother's first reaction to hearing that I had helped prevent a section of the Hanging Road from collapsing was to hug me.
Her second was to ask why my left arm was in a sling.
The third was significantly less pleasant.
"You let him do what?"
Father continued cutting his dinner.
Across the table, Bella stopped chewing.
I briefly considered getting up and leaving. Unfortunately, Mother was sitting between me and the nearest door.
"The situation was unexpected," Father said.
"That was not my question."
"No."
"You took Astri onto a damaged section of the Hanging Road the day before his Awakening?"
"The road wasn't damaged when we arrived."
Mother stared at him.
Father wisely returned his attention to his plate.
I had seen men twice his size lower their voices when speaking to Aaron Gravitas. I'd watched officials wait hours outside his office rather than interrupt a meeting.
None of those people had ever seen my mother angry.
Ambrielle Funtin Gravitas looked almost harmless when she wanted to. Her features were soft, her dark hair was pinned neatly behind her head, and the pale violet dress she wore made her look more suited to a ballroom than an interrogation.
Father knew better.
So did I.
Bella was learning.
Mother turned to me. "And you. Why were you inside an Anchor station?"
"Technically, I was hanging outside one."
Bella choked on her drink.
I immediately regretted speaking.
Mother closed her eyes.
Father's knife paused halfway through a piece of venison.
"Astri," he said.
"What? Accuracy matters."
Bella covered her mouth with both hands, shoulders shaking.
Mother inhaled slowly. "Explain."
So I did.
Mostly.
I left out the part where Master Havel had repeatedly told me not to touch anything. I also softened the section where I'd deliberately altered an active Gravity Anchor beyond its safety limits.
Some details were less important than others.
By the time I finished, Mother's expression had changed.
Not softened exactly.
Changed.
"You realized the field hadn't lost power."
I nodded.
"It was still pulling. Just in the wrong direction."
"And then?"
"We couldn't shut it down without everyone falling away from the mountain."
"So you damaged another Anchor."
"That makes it sound irresponsible."
Father finally looked up. "It was irresponsible."
"It worked."
"Those statements can coexist."
I pointed at him. "That's what I said earlier."
"And you were still irresponsible."
Bella gave up trying not to laugh.
Mother leaned back in her chair, studying me in that unsettling way parents sometimes did, as if comparing the person sitting in front of them to someone only they remembered.
"You're very much his son."
Father seemed mildly pleased.
Mother added, "Unfortunately."
His expression changed.
I smiled into my cup.
Dinner improved considerably after that.
Mother still forced me to drink a second recovery tonic. Bella wanted to know whether falling sideways felt different from falling normally. Father refused to answer any questions about the black filament they'd recovered from the Anchor, which naturally meant I asked several more.
He eventually threatened to move my Awakening ceremony to dawn if I didn't stop.
I stopped.
There were limits to curiosity.
When dinner ended, I returned to my room expecting sleep to be difficult.
It wasn't.
Apparently almost falling off a mountain was excellent for insomnia.
The next morning, I woke before sunrise.
That annoyed me.
I had nowhere to be for hours, yet my body had decided this was the perfect day to develop discipline.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.
Today.
I'd spent years saying that word.
When I Awaken.
After I Awaken.
Once I have a Core.
It had always existed somewhere comfortably in the future.
Now the future had become tonight.
I lifted my injured arm.
The healer had removed the sling before I went to bed. Mana-assisted treatment had reduced the damage to stiffness and a deep purple bruise along my elbow.
Good enough.
I got dressed and headed downstairs.
The manor was quiet at this hour. Most of the servants had only just begun their morning duties, and pale light slipped through the tall windows without touching the chandeliers floating near the ceiling.
I had intended to get breakfast.
Instead, I found myself walking toward the western terrace.
From there, the mountains opened in every direction.
Mount Caelum dominated the northern horizon, its upper slopes disappearing into clouds. The Hanging Road looked almost delicate from this distance, a thin black line cutting horizontally across a cliff face that should never have supported one.
Repair crews had worked through the night.
Tiny violet lights moved along the damaged section.
I rested my arms against the railing.
Yesterday, I'd stood there.
Not here.
There.
On the side of the mountain.
For most of my life, I'd never thought twice about it.
Gravity was something House Gravitas controlled.
Roads stayed attached to cliffs.
Cargo remained where it belonged.
People walked across impossible architecture because generations of people before them had figured out how to make the impossible ordinary.
Then one small black thread had entered a single Anchor, and all that certainty had rotated ninety degrees.
"You'll catch cold."
I looked over.
Mother stood in the terrace doorway carrying two cups.
"That sounds like something old people say."
"I'm your mother. I'm allowed."
She handed me one.
Tea.
I accepted it.
"Couldn't sleep?"
"I slept."
"Couldn't stay asleep?"
"...Maybe."
She smiled.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Mother was good at that.
Father treated silence like space waiting for a useful question.
Mother was perfectly comfortable letting it remain silence.
Eventually she looked toward Mount Caelum.
"Your father told me about the filament."
That got my attention.
"He told you?"
"He's my husband."
"He tells you things?"
She looked at me.
"I occasionally wonder how you've survived this long."
"Effort."
Mother laughed quietly.
Then her expression became more thoughtful.
"He genuinely doesn't know what it was."
"I figured."
"That worries him."
That was harder to imagine.
Father didn't seem like someone who worried. Problems existed, and then he dealt with them.
"He didn't look worried."
"He doesn't look hungry either. He still eats."
Fair point.
I sipped my tea.
"Do you know what it was?"
"No."
"Anything similar?"
"No."
"So everyone's useless."
"Good morning to you too."
I grinned.
Mother leaned against the railing beside me.
"Try not to spend today thinking about it."
"That's impossible now."
"I know."
"Then why ask?"
"Because there is one thing more important today."
My Core.
I looked down at the tea.
"What if it's not Gravity?"
Mother didn't answer immediately.
That was irritating.
I glanced toward her.
"You're supposed to say it doesn't matter."
"It matters."
I blinked.
She continued before I could reply.
"It matters because you've spent your entire life surrounded by Gravity. Your teachers understand it. Your father understands it. Your House has libraries filled with it. If you Awaken another Pathway, your life becomes more complicated."
That wasn't the comforting speech I'd expected.
Mother turned toward me.
"But complicated and bad are not the same thing."
I looked back toward the mountains.
"What did you want before your Awakening?"
She smiled.
"Light."
"Really?"
"I thought it looked elegant."
I laughed.
"What did you get?"
Her fingers rose.
A faint green glow appeared between them.
It lasted only a second before fading.
"Nature."
I had seen Mother's Mana before, of course, but she rarely used it around the house.
"Were you disappointed?"
"Terribly."
That surprised me.
She seemed amused by my expression.
"I was seventeen. I wanted something beautiful."
"Nature is beautiful."
"Now I know that."
She tapped my forehead.
"That is the advantage of becoming less stupid."
"I'm hoping to avoid that."
"You've made excellent progress."
I sighed.
Everyone in this family thought they were funny.
Mother pushed away from the railing.
"Come eat."
"I'll be there."
She walked toward the door, then stopped.
"Astri."
"Hm?"
"Whatever appears tonight, give yourself time to understand it before deciding whether you wanted it."
Then she left.
I remained on the terrace for another minute.
That sounded suspiciously like good advice.
I decided not to tell her.
By sunset, I was beginning to hate waiting.
Father had prohibited training.
Mother had prohibited leaving the estate.
Bella had made both restrictions significantly worse by following me around asking whether I could "feel the magic coming."
At six thirty, I threatened to throw her into a fountain.
At six thirty-two, Mother made both of us change into formal clothes.
At seven, the four of us descended beneath the manor.
The Awakening Chamber sat deep enough underground that I could no longer hear the estate above us.
No servants followed.
No guards.
No relatives.
That surprised me.
I'd expected Awakening to involve an audience.
House Gravitas had never been particularly shy about ceremony.
Instead, Father opened a pair of plain black doors and led us into a circular stone chamber.
The room was almost empty.
Nine pillars surrounded a raised platform. Violet crystals grew naturally from the walls, illuminating thousands of fine inscriptions cut into the black floor.
At the center of it all sat one circular depression.
I looked around.
"That's it?"
Bella frowned. "What did you expect?"
"I don't know. More."
"More what?"
"Fire."
Mother laughed.
Father did not.
"Why would there be fire?"
"For atmosphere."
"You are Awakening a Core, not attending a play."
I pointed at the glowing crystals. "You people built a road on the side of a mountain. Don't pretend you don't appreciate presentation."
Father ignored me and stepped onto the platform.
"Come here."
The humor in my chest faded.
Right.
This was actually happening.
I joined him.
Up close, I could see the floor wasn't simply covered in runes. Every line connected to another, forming hundreds of overlapping circles that extended toward the pillars.
Father pointed to the depression.
"Stand there."
I did.
"Shoes off."
"What?"
"The lattice needs direct contact."
I removed them.
The stone was cold beneath my feet.
Father stepped closer.
"You know the process."
"I've studied it."
"Studying and doing are different."
Yesterday flashed through my mind.
The Anchor panel.
The mass of conductors.
Master Havel shouting that theory wasn't the same as actually working on one.
Apparently that lesson was following me.
Father continued.
"Do not force the Pathway you expect."
"I know."
"Do not draw more Mana than you can circulate."
"I know."
"Do not attempt to accelerate condensation simply because you become impatient."
I hesitated.
"I know."
His eyes narrowed.
"That pause was concerning."
"I'll behave."
"I don't believe you."
"That's hurtful."
He placed one hand on my shoulder.
For just a moment, the sternness disappeared.
"Trust your body."
Then he left the platform.
Mother and Bella stood beyond the outer ring.
Father placed his palm against one of the pillars.
The chamber came alive.
Violet light raced through the inscriptions.
One circle.
Then another.
Then all of them.
Something struck my senses.
I inhaled sharply.
Mana.
I'd felt Mana before.
Everyone did, indirectly. Heat from Mana lamps. Pressure from activated runes. The strange heaviness near the Deepwell.
This was different.
For the first time, I wasn't feeling what Mana did.
I was feeling Mana itself.
It was everywhere.
The chamber was drowning in it.
Currents moved through the stone beneath me, through the air, through the pillars, through my own body. Thousands of sensations overlapped until I couldn't separate one from another.
My heartbeat quickened.
"Close your eyes," Father said.
I did.
"Don't reach yet."
That was difficult.
Everything around me felt close enough to touch.
"Feel what's already there."
I breathed.
Slowly, the chaos separated.
Some Mana moved easily.
Some clung to the stone.
Some felt dense and familiar.
Gravity Mana.
There was so much of it beneath us that the entire chamber seemed built around a vast invisible current.
The Deepwell.
Father's warning returned.
Don't force the Pathway you expect.
I waited.
At first, nothing happened.
Then one of the currents brushed against me.
My skin tingled.
I reached.
The Mana slipped away.
I frowned.
Again.
Another current.
I pulled.
This time something entered.
Barely.
A thread of energy moved through my arm.
It felt cold for half a second, then vanished somewhere inside me.
More.
I reached again.
The second thread came easier.
Then the third.
Soon Mana moved through me with every breath.
I guided it along the circulation pattern I'd practiced mentally hundreds of times.
Down through the chest.
Across the abdomen.
Up along the spine.
Back toward the center.
It worked.
For approximately twenty seconds.
Then everything fell apart.
The Mana scattered through my body.
I opened my eyes.
"...Was that supposed to happen?"
"Again," Father said.
Of course.
I closed my eyes.
Second attempt.
Better.
I gathered more.
Circulated longer.
Then lost control again.
Third attempt.
Failure.
Fourth.
Failure.
By the sixth, sweat ran down my face.
Nothing hurt.
That almost made it worse.
I could feel how close I was.
Mana entered easily now. The problem came when I tried gathering enough to condense.
Every time the energy tightened beneath my sternum, it slipped apart.
I tried harder.
Failed harder.
My frustration grew.
I knew how this worked.
Mana entered.
Mana circulated.
Mana condensed.
Core formed.
Simple.
Except apparently my body had not read the same books.
Seventh attempt.
The Mana scattered.
My jaw tightened.
I started again immediately.
"Astri."
Father's voice.
I ignored him.
More Mana entered.
"Astri."
"What?"
"What are you doing differently?"
I nearly opened my eyes.
"Nothing."
"Then why would the result change?"
That irritated me.
Mostly because he was right.
I let the Mana disperse.
For a moment, I simply stood there.
Yesterday, I'd nearly exhausted myself trying to move a problem by applying more force.
Then I'd changed the angle.
Yesterday afternoon, everyone had assumed the Hanging Road was losing power.
It wasn't.
The direction was wrong.
I had done exactly the same thing seven times.
Pulled Mana.
Circulated Mana.
Compressed Mana.
Failed.
Again.
Why?
I stopped trying to form a Core.
Instead, I paid attention to what my body was doing.
Mana entered through my skin.
Some of it circulated smoothly.
Some resisted.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
I followed one current.
It slipped away.
Another stayed longer.
Another almost seemed to settle naturally beneath my sternum.
Gravity Mana.
I felt it distinctly now.
Dense.
Quiet.
Familiar.
I drew a little more.
Not everything.
Only that.
The change was immediate.
My body accepted it.
I didn't compress.
I gathered.
More Gravity Mana entered.
The energy began moving on its own.
Not randomly.
Around something.
A point.
There was nothing there yet, but every thread curved toward it.
I almost interfered.
Didn't.
The currents circled faster.
Closer.
The pressure inside my chest increased.
Still I waited.
Something clicked.
Not physically.
A sensation.
Like a door closing behind me.
The Mana collapsed inward.
My entire body went weightless.
My eyes opened.
The chamber disappeared beneath me.
Bella screamed.
I had just enough time to realize I was floating before gravity returned all at once.
Except it returned in the wrong direction.
I fell sideways.
Straight into one of the pillars.
My shoulder hit first.
Then the rest of me.
"Ow."
For a second, no one moved.
I was lying horizontally against the vertical face of the pillar.
Except it didn't feel vertical.
It felt like the floor.
My breathing stopped.
Bella stared.
Mother stared.
Father stared.
I slowly lifted my head.
The actual floor was several feet to my left.
"...That seems new."
Bella started laughing.
I pointed at her.
Or tried to.
From my current perspective, lifting my hand meant lifting it away from the pillar.
"This isn't funny."
"You fell into a wall!"
"I fell very gracefully."
"You screamed."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
Father stepped closer to the edge of the platform.
"Astri."
Something in his tone quieted both of us.
I looked at him.
"Can you release it?"
Release what?
Then I felt it.
A small, dense sphere beneath my sternum.
My Core.
My grin came before I could stop it.
I had done it.
I was Awakened.
The thought nearly made me forget I was stuck sideways.
I focused on the strange pull affecting my body.
It felt different from the Gravity Mana itself.
Like a line.
My Core on one end.
The pillar on the other.
I relaxed.
The line disappeared.
Immediately, normal gravity remembered I existed.
I dropped.
My feet hit the actual floor badly, and I stumbled forward.
Mother caught my arm.
Bella laughed harder.
"Still graceful?"
"Be quiet."
Father had not moved.
He was looking at the pillar.
Then at me.
"Do it again."
I blinked.
"I just formed a Core."
"I know."
"Could I enjoy that for maybe a minute?"
"You've had twelve seconds."
"Generous."
But I was curious too.
I stepped toward the pillar and placed my hand against it.
The Core responded almost eagerly.
Violet Mana flowed through me.
I tried to reproduce what had happened.
Nothing.
I frowned.
The first time I hadn't been trying to make the pillar pull me.
What had I been doing?
I had felt the Core form.
Then weightlessness.
Then—
My perspective had changed.
Not my weight.
Not the pillar.
Down.
I looked at the wall.
What if...
I focused on it not as something beside me.
But as the place I should fall.
The connection formed instantly.
My stomach lurched.
I dropped sideways.
This time I was ready.
Mostly.
My shoulder hit the wall, followed by my feet.
A second later I was standing on it.
Actually standing.
From where Bella and Mother stood, my body was horizontal to the floor.
From where I stood, they were the strange ones.
Bella's hair hung toward what I considered the left side of the room.
I looked upward.
The ceiling stretched ahead of me like another wall.
A slow smile spread across my face.
"Oh."
Father noticed.
"What?"
"I think I know what I'm doing."
"Explain."
"I'm not making myself heavier."
"No."
"I'm not changing the gravity of the room either."
"No."
I looked at the wall beneath my feet.
"I'm choosing what counts as down."
Silence.
That sounded significantly more impressive once I'd said it aloud.
Bella stopped smiling.
Mother looked toward Father.
His expression was difficult to read.
"Interesting," he said.
Just that.
Interesting.
I frowned.
"That's all?"
"What would you prefer?"
"I don't know. Awe?"
"No."
"Concern?"
"Some."
"Better."
Father walked around the platform, watching my stance.
"What happens if you choose the ceiling?"
I looked up.
Then reconsidered.
"Maybe we should put something soft underneath me."
For the first time that evening, Father smiled openly.
"Why?"
I stared at him.
Then at the ceiling.
Then back at him.
"...Because I learn from experience."
"Good."
Bella groaned.
Mother sighed.
Father pointed upward.
"Again."
I should have known.
End of Chapter 2