VIRAN

  "So what do you want to make of this?" Yarrun asked after the pleasantries were over.

  The lump of half-melted steel that used to be an axe got heavier in Viran's eyes as the world finally required an answer from him.

  "A weapon?" Viran tried, shifting nervously. The walls around them made it clear exactly how un-specific his request was. "Do you have suggestions?"

  Yarrun seemed more amused than anything at his uncertainty.

  "An axe would be a reminder. A hammer sends its own kind of message to the knights out east, if you wanted to be seen as a threat," Yarrun's grin stretched a little. "More than you already will be after yesterday, anyway. A sword would be traditional, but more in the sense of what you're doing than what you're thinking."

  The hammer sounded like a bad idea. Viran's Proving opponent was the only knight who should be involved with his weapon, as long as the rest of them stayed in their own territories.

  Well, almost the only one. He wouldn't mind getting his claws on Saah's heir, so that Mirri would feel safe again. The coward had already decided to let the Venatrix die instead of following the Accords, even with a dozen other knights behind him, so that would never happen if Viran *tried* to scare him off with a hammer.

  And he already knew what Yarrun meant about the axe.

  "What do you mean about the sword?" Viran asked.

  "Firefly, would you get started on the heat soon?" Yarrun sent Mirri along and set Viran's chunk of steel down next to the open maw of the forge before moving on without really explaining what he had meant. "It wouldn't be the longest blade I've ever made, but you've got the reach to make it work. Assuming you don't care for the bronze that one just walked off with."

  Viran looked up just in time to catch a flicker of movement as Calen disappeared around the corner.

  "Oh for—" Mirri trailed off into a series of grumbled expletives as she stalked off after the Arrival.

  Hopefully they wouldn't fight again, but Viran wasn't going to bet on it. At least Emma was looking nervous at something other than him, for the moment. She *had* been pretending to examine the Venatrix's shoes while she listened to the conversation.

  "No," Viran shook his head as he turned back to Yarrun. It wasn't his business. "I don't want a sword."

  Dovin had handed Viran three or four different kinds of sparring swords over the last season and a half. No matter how well balanced they were, a sword had never felt right in his palm. It was like twisting his arm to get them to do what he wanted, no matter how much Dovin insisted Viran's form was fine.

  It just wasn't the right kind of weapon for him.

  "Bold young boy wants to change the world without a sword," Yarrun chuckled without letting Viran in on what the joke was. "I suppose you can always change your mind later without it being too much trouble. So what *do* you want?"

  "A tool. Something more like that." Viran pointed to the axe Calen had left on the wall.

  "A sword is a tool," Yarrun sounded almost hopeful. "It's just a tool for killing."

  "I don't need the help with that," Viran avoided shuddering as the memory of metal crushing metal reverberated through his skull again, and shook his head to clear it. "I need to be able to do other things too."

  Like break rocks. That was the first step to tearing down any mountain. No amount of killing would change the way things were, only changing the landscape until fighting was a bad idea would guarantee everyone's safety.

  Besides, it was a waste of his strength to be forced into going for weak spots with a blade, if his opponent were armored.

  "You've got more steel than you'd need for it, but fine, an axe to start," Yarrun allowed. "What other things do you want to do with it?"

  "I want a hammer on the back." Viran didn't elaborate.

  The smith didn't need to know the specifics of Viran's ambitions. Talking politics with a faebound Immortal was how you ended up making oaths, or being betrayed someday.

  At least, according to Auntie, and she had been talking about Yarrun when she had said it, so Viran was going to follow that advice right now.

  "A promise for home and a message for the East," Yarrun nodded slowly. "Not as strong in either direction, but ready for both."

  They talked about balance and leverage for a bit longer. Viran wanted a shorter haft, wary after his experience with the cramped ceiling in the south tower, and unwilling to commit two hands to dead steel unless his grasp on mana escaped him entirely. That meant Yarrun wanted a bit more steel, to get a heavier head for the hammer, but Viran didn't have more steel for him.

  "That's Emma's now," Viran said when the smith's eyes moved to the dagger on her belt for the third time in a row. "I gave it to her. I'm not going to ask for it back."

  "Steady lad. Interesting choice of allies." Yarrun's reply was nearly nonsensical, but it sounded like some sort of agreement.

  So they settled on a tapering striking plate, whatever that was, and Viran would just have to swing a little harder to get the same results he would have achieved with a heavier weight at the end of the haft.

  "Now get out and give me space," Yarrun grumped. "And get those two to stop doing... whatever they're doing to the aether outside. It's annoying."

  Viran hadn't felt anything, but he nodded anyway, and waited for Emma to finish giving Yarrun her measurements before they left. His 'axe' would be done by morning, and her boots would be ready late tomorrow.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  He was halfway around the corner when he felt a very light tap on his shoulder, and found the flat-faced human looking up at him when he stopped.

  "Sorry," Emma took a step back and shuffled a bit in the sand before saying what she wanted. "You didn't have to do that."

  "Yarrun is faebound," Viran explained. "He can't stop you from trying to make him promises on his own, he needs someone there to interfere."

  "Oh. I meant about the knife," Emma babbled her way past the warning about the smith. "Mirri said you were having trouble pressing a claim to something. If you need it—"

  "Yarrun was being rude, and doesn't know about your channels," Viran said. "You having a backup weapon is more important than me having a little more weight to swing around."

  The Arrival folded her arms over her chest like she didn't believe him.

  "You didn't know about my channels when you gave it to me either." Emma's eyes narrowed suspiciously, even though Viran hadn't made any threats, or reached for a weapon of his own.

  He had done something wrong, but at least she was brave enough to keep talking to him this time.

  Trying was paying off, just like Auntie had said it would.

  "I already have a knife. One that's a good size for my hands." Viran didn't reach for it to show her.

  He wasn't sure whether Emma arguing with him was better or worse than her being scared, but it was different, and she was actually talking. No, it had to be better. As long as she didn't actually try to give the knife back. That would be stupid, and he would have to tell her no, unless she threw it on the ground.

  "So you don't need it to succeed at whatever you're doing when you finish training and go back north?" The Arrival still sounded suspicious.

  "No," Viran turned away and kept walking, hoping Emma would move onto something else. He didn't know what he would need, but one knife worth of dead steel wouldn't make a difference to him. It might for Emma, and that might make her an ally, which was what he really wanted. "But we do need to tell Calen and Mirri to stop whatever is bothering Yarrun."

  "Yarrun can feel that through the wall?" Mirri looked up as Viran came around the corner.

  *Calen* was the one feeding the forge, maybe so she could take a break, or something. He wasn't even doing it properly, just dumping power through his back instead of his actual channels.

  "He said something you were doing to the aether was annoying. We're supposed to tell you to stop." Emma was still talking.

  She was almost up to more words in the last two minutes than she had said near Viran all through the rest of the day put together.

  "That would be your brother," Mirri sighed. "We figured out what the Seraph saw. Or at least, part of it."

  Calen was nodding along, so at least they hadn't been fighting.

  "I'm some sort of mana vacuum, because my limbs are lower density than my torso, and all that surface area gets real hungry when I start to run low on resources."

  "Don't describe it like that," Mirri beat Viran to wincing when Calen said 'hungry' about mana. "We still don't know how you're going to make it actually useful. It doesn't work when your *actual* channels are in use."

  "Sure, it doesn't work all the way, but it still works a little," Clearly they hadn't quit disagreeing all the way, if Mirri was annoyed enough to toss her head and roll her eyes like that when Calen spoke. "Kind of depends on how much power the wings take. And whatever the hell else I'm doing with my build."

  Viran examined the sand as Mirri ushered Calen away from the forge so that she could do the work without bothering Yarrun. There were no piles of anything, just footprints, and Calen's sword.

  "What are you building?" Viran asked. "And where?"

  "Nothing literal, big guy," Calen inexpertly flourished his sword as he stepped toward the lake, nearly dropping it. "Just trying to figure out how the things I can do with mana fit together with the resources I have."

  "Are you really—" Emma stopped, and her face did something funny. "Okay, fine. But remember to take it slow, decisions are permanent, and you don't have all the information you could ever need one click away."

  "Yeah, I'll be careful to work with what I already have," Calen slowed his practice to grin sideways at his sister. "We wouldn't want to make any commitments we can't take back before we understand the situation. And 'ix-nay' on the 'internet-way'."

  Viran dug a claw into an ear hole, finding it unobstructed. The mana had just utterly failed him, allowing Calen's nonsense-talk to reach his mind unaffected.

  "How many languages do you know?" Mirri fumed. "And why aren't those words translating?"

  "Because pig-latin isn't even a real language," Emma sighed. "It's a game for children to feel like they're speaking in code. And really dude? The internet didn't end the world."

  "It helped." Calen huffed, clearly annoyed that Emma had refused to play along with his code-speaking.

  "What have you figured out so far?" Viran prodded, only half because he was curious what the erratic human had come up with.

  The other half of him was annoyed with the little human, but there was no point in pressing at him. If Calen didn't trust them, that was fine, but Mirri had curled her tail around her ankle, so she was hiding that she was upset. Now was a good time for a distraction. A productive one.

  "Well," Calen's grin came back as attention shifted his way again. "Sariel gave Em the boots first, even though we've all figured out her potential agency issues, right? Didn't even bother looking at me until they made sure the two pieces of gear with synergy got paired up on someone who could use them."

  "Go on." Mirri prodded.

  She had her brows scrunched together as she studied the human's hands. Calen's copies of Mirri's channels were blazing brighter by the minute as his mana returned. The fact that Viran could see them at all gave away just how mismatched the mana distribution in his limbs was.

  "Sariel was looking at the three of us, not just me. Pure durability and healing with no offense, a medium range mage who can't take the big stuff up close and has to worry about injury to stay mobile, and me," Calen pointed to his sister and Mirri in turn before looking at Viran. "No offense big guy, you weren't down there, it just means all that muscle is extra help compared to what the Seraph saw. Or maybe they were thinkin' about you too, I dunno."

  Viran grunted an acknowledgement and gestured for the Arrival to continue.

  "You've done this before." Mirri was studying the human intently as she hummed. "This is the kind of analysis Immortals do before delving or expeditions."

  "Thought about it," Calen agreed without revealing anything. "So my issue is, no matter what else I do, I've got this weak spot right here if anything manages to reach me," He paused to tap at the back of his head. "And no way to cast anything with the mana in my back. But feeding a magic item? Those wings didn't end up on my shoulders before yours because I was closer, Sariel was giving me an escape tool."

  Mirri looked like she was considering telling Calen why it would be a terrible idea for her to feed fake wings mana instead of real ones.

  "Running away doesn't kill monsters." Viran spared her by reminding Calen of a simple truth.

  The same one he was going to have to confront, soon enough.

  "Neither does getting caught flat-footed in an ambush," Calen's easy reply revealed that he had thought about that too. "Which is something Em doesn't have the tools to scout out. If I'm actually going to be able to get into the air with those things, we have a pair of scouts. One spotter," he tapped his own chest. "And one that's capable of bringing the pain."

  The Arrival pointed at Mirri this time. Viran tried not to wince as her marks shaded a slightly deeper orange at the description.

  "Scouting is important, but I'm not always going to have a bolt to spare for you," She denied his idea. "This is half-decent theory, but you need a way to function on your own, too."

  "Which is why I'm practicing with this for now," Calen gestured to his notably not-in-use sword. "But yeah, eventually I'm going to want a tool that says 'stay away from me' a little more strongly. And from further away, even if I don't have your help."

  Viran spent a moment being very glad Emma was the one with the knife, waiting for Calen to finish telling them what he meant.

  The human's grin was just a little unnerving, in a way that made the gaps in Viran's ribs itchy.

  atomism (The philosophical idea that the universe is made up of indivisible particles called atoms arranged in distinct formations that create different types of matter, which is strictly distinct from modern atomic theory, though John Dalton did borrow the term 'atom', and the name stuck even after further investigation revealed that atoms were, in fact, divisible.), Aristotle posited that a true void could not be created, as surrounding material would immediately flood the region and remove such a space from existence.

  Limited by the knowledge of his time and widely historically criticized for the false assertion, Aristotle was nevertheless partially correct in his assumptions about a 's behavior, as even outer space contains several hydrogen atoms per square meter, and no portion of the known universe has been observed to be a perfect vacuum.