Raiten: Present Day

  “Again,” Hypna drawls. I resist the urge to throw the needles at her. I’ve been stuck on this damn task for an entire week. And as of yet, I have received no explanation for its purpose.

  But, like an obedient student, I summon another line of Aether and start threading together a new scarf.

  “Not a scarf this time. Do a sweater.”

  “Great, now I can shower Thraevirula with gifts meant for old ladies. Maybe then she’ll finally lose interest,” I mutter.

  Hypna smiles at my suffering. Yet, she doesn’t provide any counter to my complaint.

  I bristle, hunch over, and try to get it done as quickly as possible. This certainly is not what I thought studying Aether would entail—after all, Zyla taught me through combat. As did Sorina. This is the first time I’d prefer trading punches with her—it’d be less boring than knitting. And besides, weaving textiles is surprisingly delicate, tiring work. I messed up my first five Aether scarves, despite Hypna’s perfect demonstration of how to make the cloth. She continually assures me that this pace is normal.

  I disagree. I need to advance to the next stage already—to wield the same powers I held when Hypna fused with my spine in our dream battle against Thraevirula.

  Frustratingly, I have plateaued.

  When I rip a hole through the azure sweater in my haste, I throw down the needles.

  “This isn’t worth it,” I mutter. “Not for the lack of sleep I get. There has to be some other way Hypna. Something quicker.”

  Any time I spend awake in the dream usually takes a toll in reality as well. That was part of the reason why I fainted after my long dream battle against Thraevirula—that, and the fact that she shoved a centipede down my throat. Not a pleasant memory.

  “Is that what you really think? Or are you just venting to me?” Hypna asks calmly.

  I stare at her before sighing. “Just venting.”

  Whatever my complaints, I should know by now to trust in her—after all, she gave me this power in the first place.

  “Trust the process Raiten. This stuff—it takes time. But this method is the best possible way of learning Aether. It gives you the foundational sense of what making a construct actually means.”

  The only problem is…

  “Won’t Thraevirula attack tomorrow? According to her time limit, that is.”

  “She’ll start probing at our defenses, yes. But I can still give you limited instruction. You’ll just have to be more… disciplined in your study. Also, you’ll have to hasten your pace in the mortal plane—do your best to stay at the edge of her range.”

  Great. Push harder both here and outside. Wonderful.

  I scratch my head before standing.

  “You're worried,” she notes.

  “How could I not be? If I don’t get this down quickly, then I’ll just—I’ll just lose. Again.”

  “You’re being too hard on yourself. Given those circumstances, you did your best.”

  “But it wasn’t enough, was it? That’s all that matters.” I lean down to pick up the needles.

  Hypna tilts her head. “That’s not all that’s bothering you, is it?”

  “No. It’s not.”

  The witch stands, glides over to me, and places a hand on my cheek. “Let me in, Raiten. What’s wrong?”

  Her touch is warm. Comforting, even in this incorporeal realm.

  I look into her eyes. “Why wasn’t I able to immerse myself in lightning?”

  “Ah, I see. You’re talking about during the last moments of the battle, right?”

  “I thought I had it. I was so close—I could practically taste it. But, I lost the sensation when Masaru attacked me. I don’t understand why,” I mutter, closing my eyes. “That bastard said something that’s been haunting me. He mentioned that ‘he’s not the first,’ and something like—”

  Hypna waves her hand. The scene displays all around us, exhibiting Masaru so clearly in his ultimate malice.

  “Figure them out on your own, you don’t need a test subject. Trust me,” he spat, looking down upon me once more. “He’s not the first. And he made no progress in ten years—he’ll never break through the first stage. This slave just did our dirty work.”

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  I gesture to the image of the Elder. “Ten years. In my ten years at that damned Tower, I never immersed myself in lightning. Never was able to make it an element. Sure, I learned how to use it, but I never made any progress at actually employing the ability beyond the time limit set by angel dust.”

  “So…?”

  “So why now? Why did I only feel close to immersion when fighting Souta, the Lady, and Baroth in the Glades?”

  Hypna makes a thoughtful hum before turning away from me, eyes roving the scene of the battle. She rewinds it back and forth, going through a flurry of images in mere seconds—the speed of her analysis is frightening.

  “Alright,” she concludes, snapping her fingers to burn the images away. Afterwards, she dusts her hands off. “Do you know why the mancers never told you about stages?”

  I frown. “What does this have to do with—”

  “Just play along.”

  “Fine. My best guess is that they thought I probably knew about them. Well, that might explain why Kiren didn’t tell me. Zyla didn’t have time to explain them during our singular night of training. And Saegor—well, I don’t think Saegor was ever going to tell me much.”

  “Not a bad answer. But there’s one factor that you’re missing.”

  She obviously expects me to ask, what’s that? Instead I just stare at her.

  “You're no fun,” she huffs. “Look: how powerful do you think lightning is when compared to other elements?”

  This actually stumps me. “Maybe marginally more powerful than the first circle elements?”

  “You’re being humble. It's far more powerful. Saegor and the others—they most likely didn’t think you needed to understand the stages. So long as you used angel dust, you could level the playing field with most mid to upper tier stages.”

  “Really?”

  “Raiten,” she laughs. “Lightning is a superweapon: something that every nation should be dying to grasp. However, most of its lore and importance has been gatekept by the clans. But now? The Battle of the Glades—your fight against Souta—it will spread like wildfire. Your amulets will become an incredibly prized commodity.”

  “So instead of only the witch wanting them, now everyone will be hunting for them.” I click my tongue. “That’s annoying.”

  “Certainly one way to put it. Your Elders knew that this would eventually become a problem. This is part of the reason why they only let slaves use angel dust: because—”

  “They didn’t want the power being broadcasted.”

  “Exactly. So, they spent years trying to immerse the dust within their own clans. As soon as one of their members would be able to use lightning without the dust, then lighting would become an element. And thus, they could breed their slaves to make children with elemental affinities—or they could experiment on their slaves to study how immersion of lightning truly formed. Either route would’ve been viable.”

  The thought of being forced to become a sex slave, like my mother—or worse, being tortured by the Elders to figure out how I immersed angel dust—it’s all infuriating.

  But still…

  “This doesn’t explain anything.”

  “I’m getting to that. Look: to break into the first stage of most elements—the stage that allows you to use the element freely—most mages must immerse themselves. They try to understand the Incanta and Servanta underlying an element’s structure. Having a background in Aether constructs helps here as well. And, of course, experience using the element through runic scripts, or having the element used against you—that helps immensely. You’ve seen that yourself, when you learned how to use dream magicks against Thraevirula.

  “Yet despite having ten years of angel dust experience, despite the Elders probably having experimented on generations of Thunderwatchers before you, not a single human being has been able to immerse themselves in red lightning. Meaning, not a single person has broken into the first stage of red lightning.”

  “Then what am I missing?” I ask. “If it’s the runic, then I can learn Incanta and Servanta—”

  “No. There’s no runic for lightning. At least, not to my knowledge. If there was, then lightning would already be an element.”

  She’s frustrating me now. Dancing around the answer.

  “Do you even know? And please Hypna, don’t answer this question by asking me another question.”

  “Then let me answer your question, by asking you another question.”

  I inhale very deeply “I hate you. So much.”

  The witch takes that in stride. “I’m just making a jest. A lot of times, breaking through a stage is not only about experience. It often takes an internal realization—an epiphany about yourself, or about the element. And for later stages in some elements, it takes something external. Like a very rare item or material. I suspect for you, however, it will be something internal.”

  “So… self-reflection?”

  “That’s one way to look at it. But that takes time. And thought. In the meanwhile, learning Aether will help.”

  I sigh and take a seat again, biting back my frustration. “So in conclusion, the best way for me to immerse myself in lightning, is by knitting sweaters and… thinking a lot?”

  The Witch of Dreams just smiles. “Better get to it.”

  I mutter a few curses. This time, however, when I pick up the needles, I work like a mad dog at knitting the best sweater known to mankind.

  …

  I finish two hours later. Hypna holds the sweater up. Nods.

  “Not bad. You clearly have a richer understanding of constructs. With this, you should be able to—”

  She pauses, flickering for a moment.

  “What is it?” I ask, worried now. “Thraevirula?”

  “No it's—you’re being woken up.”

  What in the hells? I specifically told that idiotic shark not to disturb my peace—

  Before I can even finish that thought, the dream plane fades away.

  …

  I blink back into reality. As expected, it's Umbrahorn who is shaking me urgently with his fin.

  “Why did you—”

  “She’s awake Raiten—Sorina’s awake!”