Alesia returned to find the girls sharing a meal of military rations for supper, feeling the unspeakable texture of mystery meat caressing their revolted taste buds. Even in a world of Spellcraft, rations remained optically unrecognisable nutritional sludge.

“You want in on the Officer’s mess?” Alesia laughed when Gwen told her that she had just eaten a meat pie in liquid form. “We had a three-course meal, choice of steak, fish, or chicken, all Wildland cuts.”

The girls were indeed interested. Alesia promised to send them something nice at her earliest opportunity.

“I am going to have to borrow Gwen for a few days, a week tops,” Alesia then informed Yue and Elvia. “Gwen has seen too much, so we’re going to have to brainwipe her.”

“What!” Elvia leapt from her bunk.

“She’s joking Evee, yeesh…” Yue pulled Elvia down. “You're joking, right?”

Alesia chuckled. Full of uncertainty, the girls awkwardly reciprocated the mirth.

“I promise you Gwennie will be fine,” Alesia stated, glancing at Gwen.

Gwennie? Gwen made a face. Am I a stray cat?

“When do we leave?” Gwen asked.

“How about now?”

Gwen looked over toward her friends, who both possessed expression suggesting they weren't ready to be parted so soon.

“Is tomorrow possible?” Gwen guiltily requested of Alesia.

“Sure, I’ll make the arrangements with Paul, he'll appreciate the rest.”

“Thank you, Ma’am," Gwen answered gratefully.

Alesia casually dismissed Gwen's gratitude.

“Your school is going to have some major disruptions as the new Instructors come in, so expect to stay home or at your dorms over the next few weeks.”

The three inclined their heads. By now the news of the Instructors who had perished had spread, extinguishing the gleeful, come what may attitude of the cohort.

“See you tomorrow!”

As the night crept in, the girls pushed their bunks together and again slept side by side, feeling safer for the familiar company.

Jun and Henley came to visit, thanking Yue profusely for taking charge of the chaotic situation. Their Diviner had yet to recover from the cataclysmic event, his happy-go-lucky lustre succumbing instead to a numbing depression. Jun himself likewise took on a stoic air, assuming an attitude that was no longer convivial.

Unlike the girls in First Year, the boys would have their final exams in three months, after which they would be graduating. With all future Field Trips cancelled or delayed, their military commissions were no longer guaranteed.

After the boys said their goodbyes, the girls turned to their futures, speculative as it may be at the given moment.

“I am sticking with the military track,” Yue declared after organising her thoughts. “We all have to enrol as soon as we turn sixteen anyway, so I am going to apply for an officer cadetship position.”

Gwen wondered if she should inform Yue about Alesia’s intentions, though she knew better than to run her mouth. Her bombastic companion then boasted she was approached by several recruiters who had drawn for her a lovely pie in the sky.

“That’s awesome,” Elvia congratulated her friend. Unlike her peers, she would be enrolled at the Sydney Arcane University to study medicine and the healing arts. Upon graduation, she would serve two years under the Royal Army Medical Corps, after which she was free to pursue specialisation.

“What about you Gwen? You could join me in the military! You know what they'd call us?” Yue’s eyes were full of anticipation.

Oh God, Gwen grimaced.

"The... Dynamic Duo?"

"You're damn right!"

When it was Gwen's turn, she found herself lost for words. In truth, she had no idea what she wanted to do beyond gaining more proficiency in Spellcraft. Join the military? Gwen felt no particular adversity toward killing magical beasts, but if they had to fight other human beings - people like Edgar, there was little chance she could stomach such a thing. If anything, a job where she could take advantage of her old world knowledge in enterprise or administration would be ideal.

At the thought of fighting other human beings, a vision of Edgar's stumps squirting in tune his beating heart paralysed her lips. She could taste the saltiness of his iron blood dashing like hot lead over her face.

Nausea washed over her like a tide as the violent synaesthesia came and went.

"Gwen, are you alright? You're white as a sheet!"

A dose of Elvia's Positive Energy dispelled the hollowness in Gwen's bosoms, restoring her breath to a normal cadence. With both arms, Gwen enveloped her flaxen mascot, warmed by Elvia's angelic presence while simultaneously haunted by the inevitable separation their futures would bring.

“Alright, its fired up.” Paul finished linking the last of the glyphs after expending the requisite volume of HDMs to light up the Teleportation Circle, brushing crystalline dust from his trousers. “Have a safe trip, you two.”

The Circle activated. The world flashed cobalt and silver. There was a feeling of being lurched through something concurrently tangible, yet immaterial, followed by a sudden displacement, akin to falling in a dream.

The last thing Gwen saw was Yue and Elvia waving their hands at her, then in the next moment, she was in a dark room filled with arcane scripts and wards, glowing that pale blue-white glow of Conjuration.

A taste of sour bile filled her mouth.

“Still in one piece Tiger?” Alesia asked. “Didn’t accidentally leave behind anything did you?”

“I am fine…” Gwen replied, swallowing discretely, then patting herself down to ensure that nothing was indeed amiss.

In her old world, Teleportation was nigh-impossible. Spatial displacement ran into all kinds of problems from quantum physics, energy paradoxes, loss of mass, as well as the intellectually morbid idea of continuous death and rebirth. According to Alesia’s description though, the spell wasn't teleportation in the literal sense, but a kind of wormhole movement achieved by creating a jump through the fabric of the Prime Material Plane - their world - and the Astral Plane.

“Where are we?” Gwen realised she should have asked before they had left. Alesia simply said that they were going to see her Master, but Gwen had no idea as to their destination.

“Well, right now we’re in my apartment,” Alesia coaxed her to follow. “We need to be a little more formal where we’re going.”

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They exited a chamber akin to a set piece from some mad wizard’s dungeon. Past the heavy iron door, Gwen was surprised to find themselves in a penthouse overlooking Sydney Harbour. The scene was familiar, for Gwen had seen the same view from an adjacent cove - that of her uncle's manor.

“Bradfield Park?” Gwen announced, surprising herself by identifying all of the landmarks. “We’re back in Sydney?”

“Yep.” Alesia went by the glass facade of the open kitchen and popped the fridge, pouring herself a glass of water before motioning the jug at Gwen, who declined. “Nothing like a well-enchanted network of Teleportation Circles. Expensive to use, of course, but very convenient.”

“But…” Gwen felt her mind reeling. They were four hours away by bus! Two hundred kilometres in an instant!

Gwen had seen how many crystals Paul had to burn. It was enough to keep her training for a month! All that to save six hours? She made her incredulous discovery known to Alesia, who laughed, spilling a little water.

“Oh Gwen, what you call 'resource' is chump change at our tiers,” she informed Gwen jovially. “Our stipend alone is about ten thousand LDMs a month, or four hundred HDMs, give or take. If I were in a tier 1 city, my pay would double.”

Gwen flushed with embarrassment, feeling like an Amish rustic enquiring about motorised transport. Beside her, Alesia walked toward the panoramic vista of the harbour, her lovely face framed in the reflection of the floor-to-ceiling panes.

“Look, you can see your Uncle’s house just around the bay.”

Gwen joined Alesia at the window, feeling more nostalgic than impressed. Her North Shore office at Milson's Point shared the eastern portion of the same cove. Though the buildings were different, the landscape itself remained the same.

“When Bartlett called me, I was standing right here. For a while, I entertained the notion of dropping in from the sky. But the CBD has airspace restrictions, so I ended up taking the car.”

“Thanks again for saving me, Ma'am.”

"Ah, don't mention it," Alesia grinned.

She drew past the windows with the ease of a dancer, gesturing for Gwen to follow her up to the second level. Above, marble tiles gave way to darkly stained spotted-gum. Alesia’s bedroom was huge; its walk-in-closet was bigger than Gwen’s bedroom.

The grandiose luxury was dizzying, more so because Gwen had previously achieved the same strata of wealth. Now returned to her teenage poverty, the good life felt as out of reach to her as the shimmering waters of Lavender Bay below.

Alesia removed a few outfits from a closet that was a dozen segments deep, then began sorting them by style, storing spares in her spatial ring.

“Find whatever fits and put it on, something semi-formal,” she advised.

“Where are we going again?”

“A sombre and solemn place where people have a stick up their arse,” Alesia cautioned her student. “We're going to see my Master. He's a stickler for dress code. Say's it shows sincerity.”

Gwen uncomfortably sifted through Alesia’s wardrobe. Almost everything was red, leaving her with scarce choices for subtlety.

Her Instructor opted for a maroon, high waisted pencil skirt paired with a dark sleeveless cotton top. Gwen herself took on a vermillion-tartan bell-skirt and a white blouse with pan-collars and flared sleeves; finished with a pair of black heels.

“You’re a natural!” Alesia commended Gwen for walking in four-inch heels without tripping herself. "Well done!"

“I've always had good balance,” Gwen tactfully acknowledged her Instructor's praise.

After makeup, the duo returned to the Teleportation Circle. Once inside, Gwen watched Alesia fiddling with the glyphs until the circle once more lit up with the silver-blue light of Conjuration.

“When we arrive, there’s going to be some very unpleasant people. Stay cool, and stay behind me.”

The circle flared; they were suddenly elsewhere.

Instructor and student materialised on a dark obsidian platform, framed by a well-lit ceiling. The interior of their immediate surroundings consisted of geometric decor extending in every direction, beginning a network of corridors. There was a sterile, hospital-like ambience about the place, so quiet that Gwen could hear herself breathe.

Two guards, jackbooted and attired in ivory, approached from a guard station overlooking the Teleportation Circle.

“Major De Botton,” One of them furrowed his brow at Gwen.

“Ma’am, your companion is unauthorised for access." The other accosted them.

“I know that.” Alesia squinted at the man’s breast badge. “Cadet Edwards.”

“Please hand her over to us for quarantine.”

One of the guards moved to take Gwen's arm, only to be checked by Alesia, who placed herself between Gwen and the sentries.

“I need to see Magister Kilroy.”

“Do you have an appointment, Major De Botton?”

“No, do I need one?”

“I am afraid so, Major.”

Alesia snapped her fingers and sent a Silent Message to her Master.

“Master, I am here, and I have brought the anomaly,” she spoke to the air. Though her mouth moved, the others heard no sound.

In the next moment, a Message spell bloomed beside the guard’s ear. The sentries regarded one another before turning to face the two women.

“Proceed to platform five,” the guard named Edwards stated with suppressed impatience. “The Magister will see you now.”

Gwen cluelessly followed Alesia and their two escorts. Edwards kept glancing at her curiously, ogling her legs, while the other remained deeply critical of their presence.

The foursome soon mounted a Levitation Station. Without a sound, it began to drift, travelling through the lattice network of corridors and platforms that to Gwen, appeared to extend forever.

They were ascending rapidly, Gwen deduced when her ears popped.

At the apex, their platform docked onto an open terrace. The only notable decor was a set of double doors in stained oak, intricately carved with leaves and vines, with a garland of laurels meeting at the apex. The threshold resembled a portal to another world, somewhere far removed from the human artifice of the city.

Narnia? Gwen wondered. She could no longer be surprised.

Alesia took Gwen’s hand protectively in her own, then moved toward the door, giving the guards the cold shoulder as she did so.

With equal disregard, the guard descended.

“Walken's dogs!” Alesia swore cattily. “Told you they had a stick up their arse.”

“Where are we?” Gwen asked for the third time.

“You’re about to find out, feel free to ask him yourself.”

The double doors parted as though on cue, swing aside with a classic yawn and creak. As the portal opened, the sterile light became bathed in a warm, iridescent glow. Gwen's jaw fell as a scent of evening star jasmine enveloped their surrounding.

Past the threshold, the expectant rigidity of floor gave way to the soft depression of rich loam, burying her thin heels. She watched Alesia remove her shoes, then followed suit, feeling the turf between her toes like a fine fleece.

“Impossible…” Gwen mouthed, her eyes protesting the impossible splendour.

They were no longer in some office building, but an elfin grot, covered from ceiling to floor in viridescent mosses, grasses, and small white flowers.

In the middle of a natural atrium was a set of furniture consisting of a modest bed, a table for four, transmuted wooden chairs, and rows upon rows of bookshelves formed from the walls itself. From the ceiling, globes hung like fruits, diffusing a gentle light.

“Alesia… is this paradise?”

“… Not exactly.” Alesia giggled, her face full of expectation of what's to come. “Here is what you call a Pocket Dimension.”

Gwen breathed in the fecund air, drunk on the surplus of oxygen.

"Oh!"

Suddenly, a pair of hands, rigid and smooth, place themselves on her shoulders. From behind Gwen came a pleasant scent of incense cedar. She turned, finding herself facing an exquisitely beautiful face, impossibly perfect, possessing twin irises in the form of amber crystals.

A giantess now held Gwen captive, a woman in flowing robes of moving bark, barely covering a pair perky, sculpted breasts narrowing into a wasp’s waist, supported by long, anatomically impossible stems. Upon closer inspection, Gwen noted with dismay that it was her face which stared back at her, though the creature had made herself sickening perfect, a product of wishful fantasy.

“That’s Sufina,” Alesia introduced the woodland Sprite. “She’s Master’s nanny.”

“Greetings,” Sufina intoned. The voice, Gwen noted, did not issue from her lips. Instead, it reverberated from the walls.

“She… she’s a… tree-being?” Gwen wanted to say Monster, Magical Creature. She caught herself, however. Anyone would be upset if a stranger carelessly called them an animal.

"I am a Dryad, a Spirit-Kin."

Sufina lifted her hands from Gwen's shoulders, then effortlessly strode across the room on stiletto-like legs, floating about the place with supernatural grace. Taking a cup from a cupboard, she returned to Gwen a moment later.

“Sit. Drink."

Caught in a midsummer night's dream, Gwen obediently sat on one of the wooden stools. Sufina materialised several oaken mugs of golden liquid and a basket of dark brown bread, along with a block of floral butter.

“Treat yourself,” Alesia recommended expertly. “It’s not every day you get to eat Dryad produce fresh off the teat.”

“I am sorry?” Gwen looked at Alesia with a shocked expression, glancing at Sufina's outrageous chest. “Off the what?”

Alesia knocked back her mug of golden liquid.

“Oh! That hits the spot. Gwen, you gotta try it.”

Gwen took the cup in her hand, then gingerly drank. The liquid was thick, viscous, more akin to sap with a hint of floral honey. It was restorative ambrosia, formed of mana and vitality. She took a second sip; the fatigue of last night peeled from her body like old bark off a sprouting gumtree.

“I am glad you like it.”

Gwen looked up from her golden mead to see an old man with a trim white beard wearing an olive tweed jacket and a maroon vest. His face was weathered and worn, with a pronounced scar across the right of his temple nearly touching his right eye, bisecting powerful, prominent brows. As he came closer, Gwen noted the gent’s cheeks were sallow, hinting at a fragility that his straight and well-poised body betrayed.

“That Golden Mead, it’s all that’s keeping me alive these days.”

“Master,” Alesia curtsied, then lowered her head. "This is Gwen Song."

Gwen stood, then curtsied, then bowed, then stood awkwardly, her thin legs turning to noodles.

“So - you're the anomaly.” The old man's iron voice filled the cavern.

“Gwen.” Alesia’s reverence rose to a crescendo. “I give you Lord Henry Kaine Foster Kilroy, Magister and Master of the Ordo Arcanum Oceania!”


“I think you overdid it a bit Alesia; I sound like a Mermen God-King or something.”

“You said to make an impressive first-impression!”

“Now you're just being manipulative.”

“Well, it’s too late now, she's very impressed by the looks of it, look at her, I think her knees are buckling.”

“Sufina seems to like her. She's even taken on the girl's likeness. Any ideas? The only other person she’s ever taken to was you.”

A quick exchange via Silent Message took place between Alesia and her Master while Gwen stared with doe-eyed worship at Henry Kilroy, star-struck by the title of 'Magister'.

A Magister! She had once met the infamous cabbage, John Howard, at a barbeque in Kirribilli, and she'd only felt remotely bedazzled.

But a Magister was no Prime Minister. Here was a Mage capable of tapping into three Schools of Magic, and whose proficiency of each school had reached a profound mastery.

Barring a Meisterhood, something akin to a Nobel Prize, the title of Magister was the highest honour possible for a mortal Mage. A Magistership was the end game; an apex exemplar of Spellcraft. If Gwen was the base-stone at the foot of a pyramid; Magister Kilroy was the gold marking its granite cap.

“Its a pleasure to meet you, Magister,” Gwen intoned with the reverence of an altar boy ministered by the Pope. "I am... honoured..."

She wanted to say something profound, but her gift of gab had been stunned into silence. For a second, Gwen wondered if the man gave out autographs.

"Hahaha, the girl's too startled to speak!"

A sound of trilling laughter broke Gwen's moment of religious epiphany. Sufina once again appeared beside Gwen, now taking a liking to Gwen’s hair. With stiletto like fingers, the Sprite deftly braided Gwen's waist-length locks, cooing in pleasure as she twirled Gwen's dark curls.

“Likewise, Miss Song,” the Magister replied, his tone even-tempered and unperturbed. The elderly Mage motioned cooly with a hand. Gwen marvelled as one of the chairs moved to meet him.

Upon closer inspection, Gwen realised the chair was being grown from the floor space! It was a living thing!

Kilroy sat.

Then was suddenly sent off balance when the chair continued to move, sending him stumbling backwards.

“Master!”

Alesia rushed to Kilroy's aid, afraid that her venerable teacher would topple over and break a hip. Thankfully, a low stool sprouted from the ground and caught Henry before he lost his balance.

“Sufina, focus.” Henry's voice grew wary with annoyance. "We are before guests."

The stool morphed into an elaborate throne.
Wow, Gwen averted her eyes. To think chairs could be used to convey sarcasm.

“…” Henry sighed.

“That is why you never spoil your Familiars,” Alesia transcribed the awkward demonstration for Gwen, dispelling the serious air previously built by Henry's entry. “You try to impress, but your Familiar trips you because she didn’t like your tone.”

“Lord Kilroy?” Gwen attempted to reinvigorate the moment of solemnity to no avail. The magic was long gone.

“Just 'Sir' will do, or Magister,” Kilroy replied in a way that reminded Gwen of Alesia, making the exact motion of waving his hands offhandedly to indicate the desire for ease. “So, let's get down to business, I may not look like it, but I am a busy man.”

“Busy napping,” Alesia undermined her doting Master with a mischievous smile. "Gwen, don't be scared. He's a harmless old codger, albeit a useful one."

Sufina giggled, the Dryad's laughter sending tremors through the Grot.

“…”

Henry’s face was a map of helpless annoyance. On his wizened face, Gwen saw a doting father long given up on trying to educate his wayward daughters.

“See, this is why Gunther will always be my favourite,” the old man lamented. "He listens!"

“Hmmph!” Alesia pouted.

So even the mighty Alesia De Botton could be adorable, Gwen suppressed a secret smile. The interaction between her and her master was both paternal and admirable.

The Magister refocused his attention on Gwen.

“Gwen.” Henry's tone returned to one of solemnity. “Alesia has told me about your condition. I suppose we are here to decide what's to be done.”

“Sir?” Gwen swallowed.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

"Yes, Magister."

Sans her otherworldly origins, Gwen told the Magister all that she knew: her strange nightmare, her awakening, her vertigo and fatigue. She spoke about her experiences in the Cognisance Chamber, the training she had undergone. She then recounted her encounter with Edgar, what he had tried to do to her, and the discovery of the dark element that seemed to drain her life-force.

“…and the serpent?” The Magister enquired once Gwen had finished. Gwen looked toward Alesia, who nodded encouragingly.

Gwen recounted what she could. When she stated that she awoke from a state of near-death, restored and revitalised, the Magister’s brows raised an impressive inch. The subsequent amiability of the Mythic and the fact that she had spoken to a primordial Land God without her untempered mind imploding further fascinated the Magister.

“I am afraid there aren't many answers I can give you.” Henry intoned after Gwen's tale was done. She noted the Magister had nursed a cup of Golden Mead the whole while, taking sips every so often. “But, first things first, may I see this Kirin amulet your father gave you?”

Gwen began to untie the string around her neck, but the Magister stopped her.

“No need to remove it. I merely wish to inspect its aura.”

Gwen allowed the Core to rest against her bosom.

“Identify!"
"Detect Magic!"

Her skin crawled as Kilroy's diagnostic magic washed over her.

The Magister pursed his lips.

“As I thought, no wonder Sufina has taken such a liking to you.”

“Master?” Alesia inquired carefully.

Henry closed his eyes, allowing the collated magic to fade. When he opened his eyes again, they were back to their steely brilliance.

“The amulet is a part of something larger, for I can sense that its animus is incomplete. The materials itself is the heart-stone of something at least at an Ancient tier, below Mythic, but still very, very old. There is a capacity for the storage of spiritual Essence within the item, an entirely different form of magic altogether. For that reason, I can't tell you how the amulet works. It wasn't made with Western Spellcraft and its origins predate the Spellcraft Era. But. since it's a boon from your father, I would keep it close to your chest. Even though heirloom Magic Items may not mesh with modern Spellcraft, they may yet provide passive protection."

The Magister then instructed Gwen to hide her pendant.

"Of far more interest to us is the fact that I can detect the Mythic's vital energy within it, a portion of which…”

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Henry pointed towards Gwen’s heart.

"… now resides in you.”

Alesia rejoiced. She knew it was the right idea to come and see her Master. The old man might be getting a little senile, but he was the most authoritative figure on magical phenomena in the Arcanum.

“Wha does that mean?” Gwen asked. As a novice in Spellcraft theory, half of what she had heard was non-sensical jargon.

“When the Serpent said that you were its kin,” the Magister continued. “It meant that the life-force that resides within your body is its 'kin'. I suspect the 'essence' of the egg has seeped into your amulet. As for the egg itself, I can safely assume its an Indigenous Spirit Stone - said to be the discarded Core of Mythic beings that inhabit our vast brown land."

“But the serpent was alive and well,” Gwen countered. "Cores come from dead Magical Creatures, don't they?"

Henry took a sip from his cup, refilled by a helpful Sufina.

“Mythic beings are essentially immortal, especially with serpents, pheonixes and certain species of dragons - they perish and are reborn many times, each time leaving behind something of its past. The egg you saw was something akin to shed-skin.”

Gwen nodded in half-comprehension.

“This brings us to our next problem.” The Magister gestured, putting the previous topic aside.

“The dilemma of your association with a Mythic Class Being.”

Gwen shivered under Kilroy's studied gaze.

“I’ll explain.” Alesia leaned over and held Gwen’s hand, offering the girl her warmth and sympathy. “What I am about to tell you isn't going to be pleasant, but I hope you understand the position you and I are now in.”

Gwen lowered her eyes, anticipating the worst.

“First of all Gwen, you can commune with the Mythic, which means you are capable of influencing its actions, however trivial. That means, unfortunately for you, that you are a state asset. The ability to move a Land God is not something any government would allow to walk the streets freely.”

“Next, what would happen if the Frontier Government or the Commonwealth Tower found out? Not everyone in the Tower is forgiving and slothful like Master here. Most of them are old codgers who would like nothing more than to wage another Great Purge on the coast to expand their influence. Be it the Grey Faction or the Militant Faction, either would love to lay their hands on you. If they do, there are two potential outcomes-”

“One: quarantine. Keep you segregated from the rest of the world, then try to figure out a way to extract the energy from your body. After all, as Master said, it’s not Gwen Song who the creature finds kinship with, it's the Essence it was speaking to, mistaking you for a sibling or the like.”

Gwen’s complexion paled.

“Two: and this is the preferred option - we keep you in complete stasis and isolation. Simply put you away until such time that you are useful or no longer dangerous. The same option also includes killing you, although I doubt it. The Tower is obsessed with potential war assets.”

Cold sweat permeated Gwen's torso, drenching her thin white blouse. How could this be? Had she jumped from the frying pan into the fire? Was she was going to become a specimen in a bottle?

“That’s the circumstances we are looking at,” Alesia finished.

“... Alesia, can you help me?”

She was grasping at straws, but Gwen made the request regardless. Instinctively, she knew her freedom was entirely dependent upon the charity of the two in front of her. This time, without the need for coaxing, her brimming eyes begged for sympathy.

"Henry, help her." It was Sufina who advised her Master.

"Master, you have to help her," Alesia intoned as well, imploring her teacher.

Three pairs of eyes, hazel, ultramarine, and glowing amber, shifted swimmingly toward the Lord Magister of Sydney Tower.

Henry Kaine Foster Kilroy, Lord Magister of the Oceanian Tower, knew he was now at a crossroad.

The pragmatic outcome was obvious, but Henry had seen enough dilemmas play out poorly to trust the inhuman arithmetic of logic. After all, had he not taken on Alesia against all advice, twenty years ago? That impulsive decision had saved tens of thousands of lives, gifting humanity with a flaming-spear to keep the Mermen at bay, simultaneously sparing his conscience.

This girl, Gwen Song, was alike Alesia in many ways. Henry could guess why his favourite student had taken to the anomaly, enough at least, to risk her livelihood. With renewed interest, he studied the girl, watching her pupils dilated and contract, noting the uncommon intelligence in Gwen's eyes.

Was he fit to take on another burden?

He had made three such decisions prior: irrevocably changing three lives.
His wife, Elizabeth.
His first apprentice, Gunther.
And his second, Alesia.
Was there now going to be a fourth? Had he enough time left in him to take on another?

A subtle smiled touched Henry Kilroy's lips.

The Magister was surprised to find himself so amicable, wondering if the years had dulled his paranoia and instead rewarded him with erudition. The passage of time makes it easier to be wise, Henry noted with self-serving sagacity, not to mention something about the girl stirred his curiosity. Alesia had asserted the girl possessed two elements, though she couldn't confirm her hypothesis.

“Then we are agreed, the buck stops here,” Henry pronounced after a minute of harrowing rumination, quoting the legendary American Magister, Harry S. Truman. “Gwen's secret remains between you and I. BUT - nothing comes free; an assurance must be exacted.”

Alesia exhaled deeply; she patted Gwen’s white-knuckled fingers to informed her that the worst was over, furthermore inferring that Gwen had better accept her master’s proposal, else it was back to perpetual Stasis.

"I agree-"

“Don't accept so carelessly,” the Magister intoned, thinking of fortifying the girl's resolve. "I warrant we're not giving you much choice here, but still, your commitment must be one of free will. Tell me, child, what Path do you walk? What is it that you want for yourself?"

What did she want?

Gwen wished she knew the answer to the Magister's gentle enquiry. Rationally, she knew that she wanted safety, leisure and ease of life; but was that possible in this world? Wasn't their current crisis precise because her communion with a Mythic-being implied she could single-handedly destroy the safety, comfort, and ease of every other human being in Sydney? In a world where men and women flew through the sky and conjured balls of fire and plasma against monsters, was it even realistic to assume that the warm embrace of mediocrity was a possible option? She had seen the NoMs living in the city, aimless and unemployed, or otherwise existing in humdrum - is that what she aspired to? To live a life of scarcity and irrelevance?

What did she want?

Gwen searched for Alesia and saw a potential answer in her talented Instructor. Beside the Scarlet Sorceress, the figure of the smiling old man and his demi-goddess servant provided another.

“You can be honest with me, child.” The Magister’s voice was a deep, reverberating baritone. “Whatever you may wish, there is no shame. I will accommodate you to the best of the Tower's capacities.”

Gwen's chest expanded with bated breath, her lungs on the verge of bursting. In her old world, such delusions of grandeur applied only to madmen; men whose dreams and manifestos resulted in the death and misery of millions.

“I…” Gwen found her voice, but the words choked and died on her tongue. She knew the words to be wrong. “I … I want…”

Her mouth felt full of ash, her head a raging torrent of strange emotions. Was it so hard to just come out and say something so realistic for a world at war? What would be the harm? Wasn't this a world of Gods and Monsters?

“What do you want? Gwen Song?” The Magister pressed on, teasing open Pandora's sacred receptacle.

“I want… POWER.”

The dirty word came to Gwen at last, the tension flowing from her like an open dam.

“I want the power to protect myself."
"I want the power to protect my friends."
"I want the power to live my life without fear.”

“That’s all?” Magister Kilroy's smile was serene as he twiddled his fingers, forming arcane circles.

Gwen was behind herself now, the words of her old world pouring forth from her lips like a torrent.

“I want the power to punish those who would wrong me. I want to harry the foxes, frighten the wolves, and slaughter the tigers that bar my way! I want the power to terrify those who injure me so that I need fear no vengeance!”

The cynical words of Machiavelli, so laughably hyperbolic and disturbing in her old world, slipped from her tongue like a key into a well-oiled lock, unlocking parts of her she hadn’t known existed. Or perhaps they had always existed; she couldn't help wonder if this was how autocrats and psychopaths were born.

“Excellent!” The Magister roared with satisfying laughter, his mirth rolling across the room and filling its spaces.

“There is no shame in wanting power,” Henry commended his newest ward. “In the study of Spellcraft, Gwen, we call the manifesto we chose the Path. For those of us in the Center Faction of the Middle Path, power is a means, not an end. It is a beast that must be tamed to achieve Greatness!"

“Greatness?” Gwen demanded breathlessly, her earlier confessional had taken a toll on her stamina.

“Yes Gwen, Greatness.”

“The Path of Greatness?”

The old man’s eyes twinkled.

“Alesia, the Credo please.”

Alesia stood from her chair and began to speak like a school girl commanded by a headmaster, her own eyes ablaze with fervent dogma.

“Greatness is the Path of Spellcraft."
“Greatness is not found in oneself.”
"Greatness is how one affects those around him.”
“Greatness is that which does not lie in strength alone, but the noble employment of power; for one is greatest whose strength carries the weight of other’s hearts."

Alesia's intonation quivered with enthusiasm. Beside her, the Magister listened to his student speak with a look of dreamy satisfaction, like one listening to the crescendo of an overture. Though he knew it to be the influence of an Enchantment he had invoked to draw out his students' raw, untainted emotions, the Credo proved as inspiring as the day he and his companions had penned it.

"Thank you, Alesia." Kilroy turned to their guest. "That is the creed of the Tower, Gwen, what is your opinion of our Path?”

Gwen shook with unexplainable emotions. A rapturous ardour burst within her like the swelling sea at high tide. Effortlessly, she found her next words.

“Greatness,” she declared in the next moment, finding herself channelling the wisdom of Emerson, “Greatness is the binding of superior advantage to larger generosity, that which we call Noblesse Oblige!"

“Exactly!” The Magister’s eyes widened with unexpected pleasure. What insight! What wisdom!

"The abuse of power," Gwen's voice raised in pitch and volume, invoking the Bard. "Is when remorse is disjointed from Greatness!"

“Gwen, that's... that's perfect!” The Magister found himself applauding the girl. Such clarity! Such brilliance! He had studied the Credo for half a century and yet, he had not uncovered words that encapsulated his ethos so well.

Opposite the Magister, Gwen was scarlet with shame over her plagiarism. She looked over at Alesia and Henry, now regarding her with open fascination, as though she was the Magister and they were the Acolyte.

Alesia's fists clenched, beside her, the veins on Magister Kilroy's wrinkled neck pulsed with undulating intensity.

As the fever of Gwen's mind cooled, she couldn't help but wonder if she had made the right impression.


While Gwen awaited her verdict, the Magister and his Apprentice were having a silent exchange of their own.

“Master, you had better dismiss Heighten Emotion, we're all getting too worked up. Your heart...”

“I am fine… I am fine… Where did you find this girl? One of the Great Houses?”

“At Blackwattle… near the Fish Market.”

“From a government school? Then how is she saying all of this? Did you teach her the Credo?”

“Never mentioned it.”

“Yet, she understands the Tower's charter better than its most senior member. She’s just given us the answers our scholars had struggled with for aeons!"

“Well, she IS an anomaly…”

“…”

From Gwen's perspective, Magister Kilroy silently sipped his Golden Mead for a minute before he could work up enough energy to continue. Sufina coddled the old man while still in Gwen's likeness; a sight which made Gwen incredibly uncomfortable.

“So - an assurance,” Henry said finally, after soothing out his breath and making sure he had indeed dispelled the enchantment. “You will submit yourself to a Greater Geas.”

Gwen's expression was uncomprehending.
Alesia moved to explain.

“It’s a more powerful, permanent form of the Quest spell…”

Gwen's comprehension was one of vacancy.

“It’s a compulsion spell that punishes you and alerts Master if you break a promise to a condition we set,” Alesia explained in laymen's terms. “In this case, you are going to promise that you will not use your ability to commune with the Mythic to do anything hostile toward the city, towards other humans, except for extreme self-preservation. You also promise to tell no one about our Geas, the serpent, or our decision to shield you from the Tower.”

Gwen nodded.

She didn't have to like it to agree, for she understood that this was the best Alesia could offer under the circumstances. Alesia had already put herself in danger, and now her Master was also invested. There was little else to be said other than to accept the Geas with good grace.

“I understand," Gwen affirmed. “Let's do it.”

“Woa, hold your horses, Tiger, you get to negotiate as well. We’re not bandits.”

“I am fine," she replied. "I should be thankful that you are risking your skins for my sake.”

Alesia glanced at her Master, who gave her a look that seemed to suggest she should learn from Gwen's maturity.

The Scarlet Sorceress pouted sulkily.

“Well then.” Magister Kilroy cleared his throat, “If you have no specific request, then please listen to mine.”

“Anything, Sir." Gwen felt genuine admiration for the sagely Magister. At the same time, she was also a little jealous of the father-daughter kinship the old Mage enacted with Alesia. Gwen herself had never experienced such paternal guidance: which, in Gwen's opinion, likely accounted for the dubious decisions she had made in her adolescence.

“Ahem, yes, well, if you insist.” Henry appeared troubled by Gwen's earnestness. “I want to take you on as my Apprentice if you are willing. One, as compensation for accepting the Geas spell, and two, because I think you agree with our philosophy so very well. I have never met anyone who surmised our Credo so completely.”

Apprentice!
Apprentice?
To a Magister?!
Apprentice to Alesia's Master? A Mage whose domain encompassed the city of Sydney? Gwen immediately looked towards Alesia for affirmation; her Instructor also wore an expression of disbelief.

Gwen's heart sank.

“Alesia… would that be okay?” She knew she owed Alesia more than she could repay. It was entirely possible her saviour had no desire to share her privilege. If so, she'll respect Alesia's wishes.

“What are you talking about Gwen! That would be wonderful!” Alesia leapt from her chair and embraced Gwen, planting a big kiss on her cheek. “We are sisters now! I am your sister-in-craft now! Gwennie!”

“Big Sis!” Gwen called out, feeling doubly awkward because she was technically older than Alesia.

“Little Sis!” Alesia tasted the word rolling off her tongue and loved it.

Henry patiently waited as his students, new and old, performed a happy little dance.

“A new member of the family? Huzzah!” The room resounded with the sound of shivering autumn leaves. Sufina joined the duo. As a Dyrad; she was highly sensitive to joyous emotions, which served as a form of nourishment.

"Sir!" Gwen struggled free, then fell to one knee. It seemed the correct thing to do. "I accept your blessing!"

Gwen made the supplicating gesture of placing her right hand upon her left breast. Following Alesia's instruction, she then swore that she would serve Kilroy and his Credo to the best of her ability.

"I accept."

When Gwen rose from the floor, the Grot once again filled with celebratory air, thick with the scent of jasmine in bloom.

Watching the women swig down mugs of Golden Mead, Magister Henry Kilroy, Master of the Sydney Tower, came upon a hair-raising epiphany.

Gwen.
Alesia.
Sufina.

Was his grotto to be filled with women, young, unruly and supernatural? What would happen if they ganged up or henpecked him? Would he ever know peace again?

“Sufina, the scroll.”

After carefully explaining each article and clause to their newest member, the Great Geas was ready to be expended.

Gwen pricked her thumb on a mithril dagger, then placed a bloody print into the scroll. In the next moment, a silver fire consumed the parchment.

"Oh~."

A tingly sensation suffused her skin. Distinctly, she sensed through her mind's eye that there was now a cluster of golden Enchantment orbiting her Astral Body like a satellite.

“There'll be a throbbing pain if you're about to renege on the agreement,” Henry informed her. “And as agreed, I would be notified immediately.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Gwen replied before hurriedly correcting herself. “Master.”

After Gwen delivered her sickly sweet 'Master,' Alesia relaxed, finally landing on the solid ground after two days of Flight. Now that her Master had ensured Gwen's preservation, it was time to find some answers to questions that had been gnawing at her since Gwen revealed her talents.

“Master, if you still have the time, I highly recommend taking Gwen to the Cognisance Observatory.”

“Oh? Gwen's that impressive, is she?”

Gwen felt a blush coming on, Alesia was overextending her praise. Surely she would disappoint her new Master. After all, Alesia was at least tier 6 Evocation, with an insane aptitude for Fire. Gwen was a measly tier 2. It was like comparing a Pomeranian to a Displacer Beast.

“Gwen, do you mind?” Alesia nudged her sister-in-craft. She told Gwen that it was a rare enterprise to have a Magister overlook one's skills. Usually, Mages paid hundreds in HDMs just for a fraction of Henry’s time, begging for mystical solutions to arcane enquiries.

"I would love to!” Gwen raised her hand in affirmation.

Finally, the extent of her new prospects weighed in on her. My Master is a Magister! Did that mean she was now in unassailable position?

Or at least, that was what Gwen had thought until Alesia informed her of the dangers of being Henry Kilroy's Apprentice.

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"Don't celebrate yet, Gwen. Apprenticeships aren't public information," Alesia explained. The reasons for discretion were many, though principally it was for the Apprentice's protection until they could stand on their own. Kidnapping, bribery and harassment of a Magister's prized Apprentices were a few of many ways to influence a Magister's decisions, especially one like Henry Kilroy.

As such, though her Master would be available to guide Gwen down her Path of Spellcraft, he would not make their relationship public and official until they could fend for themselves.

Even Alesia, a known associate of the Magister for two decades, was only seen by the outside world as a protégé, an Acolyte mentee who ran errands for the Magister in exchange for knowledge and favours.

“You also have a brother-in-craft as well,” Alesia’s eyes were half-closed when she spoke, a little excitement creeping into her voice. “His name is Gunther Schultz. We're in the same boat, though everyone correctly assumes Gunther is Master's official Apprentice."

Gunther Shultz. It wasn't the first time Gwen had heard the name.

"Not knowing our true relationship offers us significant flexibility," Henry grinned. "But enough of that. Let us proceed to the Great Cognisance Chamber. I am curious as to your sister-in-craft's enthusiasm."

Kilroy guided the duo to the exit of the pocket dimension, explaining to Gwen that that 'Grot' was the domain of his dear companion, Sufina. In the event of an intrusion, the Dryad could keep hostile Mages trapped indefinitely, wandering the endless hallways of her pocket dimension.

Beyond the oaken doors, a Levitation platform rose to meet them.

“Where’s Sufina?” Gwen noticed the giantess had suddenly disappeared.

Henry tapped his skull.

“Sufina dislikes the distorted space of the Tower,” he replied. “She’s a creature of nature.”

The platform arrived with the addition of two guards in white.

“My Lord!” The men snapped to attention.

“Cadets,” Henry greeted the Tower's Guards-cum-Valets. “No.1 Observatory, please.”

Once outside the Grot, Alesia resumed her resting bitch face. Gwen's attention wandered here and there, split between the architectural spectacle, her amiable new Master, and Alesia's hostile demeanour.

The lift drifted through the Tower's interior, where behind thick, mana reinforced glass Gwen could see Mages at work. So this is a Tower, Gwen hungrily took in the wondrous sight, a construct of magic housing the best and brightest Mages.

A few strata consisted of offices, appearing no different to a commercial centre. Others were to be chaotic rooms used for training, shielded to prevent damage to the walls. Up higher, four consecutive floors looked like ancient libraries with row upon rows of grimoires that made Gwen’s fingers itch. Higher still, glass panes revealed what looked like laboratories filled with white-robed Mages. When Gwen spotted the moving form of a half-crustacean humanoid raging against a clear mana barrier, she yelped in surprise.

"Don't mind it, Gwen," Henry informed her. "A specimen, nothing more."

Finally, they arrived at the beginning of yet another corridor, where the platform docked itself with a sound of metal kissing metal.

“Observatory No1, my Lord.” The guards snapped to either side of the platform, allowing them to pass. As Gwen passed one of the guards, she caught a look in his eyes which sent goosebumps prickling across her skin.

The man's narrowing, unrelenting gaze transmute a feeling she knew well. It was jealousy over the fact that she, a young woman of no recognisable value or importance, was going to be spending time in a Cognisance Chamber with the Lord Magister! Demurely, she averted her gaze, her cheeks hot with mortification.

“Leave us,” the Magister intoned coldly. The platform descended after another autocratic hail of “Yessir!”

“What a racket.” Henry turned away.

“Comes with the territory,” Alesia snorted. “At least you didn't have to sign autographs.”

“I thought you enjoyed your glory days.” Henry chuckled. “You were so young, so pure, not cynical and twisted like you are now; flying around in that battledress, the dreams and hopes of young men everywhere in the military. Where did it all go wrong?”

“You made me what I am,” Alesia shot back, grinning at her Master. "No backsies."

“Gwen…” Kilroy lamented helplessly.

“Yes, Master?”

“Don’t turn out like Alesia; the additional stress would kill me."

The Tower's Cognisance Chamber was far more extensive than the one Gwen had been in at school.

It was more like a gymnasium, with a ceiling of six or seven meters and just as wide and long, forming a sterile white space.

Henry waved a hand. The room sunk immediately into darkness.

Space fell away. In the next moment, the trio stood upon the Astral Plane. One by one, orbs of varying colours began to manifest.

“Gwen,” Henry beckoned his youngest Apprentice to come closer. Above her, about her and below, arcane phenomena bathed her in technicolour. “How well do you know the Elemental Planes?”

“Only what the textbook indicated, Master.”

Henry nodded, moving his hands. Around her, Gwen saw the expansion of a galaxy more detailed and more extraordinary than anything she could imagine.

He pointed to the zenith. “Positive.”

He pointed to the nadir. “Negative”

He pointed to the four compass-corners. “Earth, Fire, Water, Air”

He pointed to an area alive with crawling motes of electrical energy.

“Where Air and Positive meet, there is Lightning.”

He pointed to a place that was tenebrous and threatening.

“The man who tried to assault you was Dust, the meeting of Negative Energy and Earth.”

The clarifying vision brought new epiphanies into Gwen's theory-addled mind. So many questions that had plagued her ramshackle understanding clarified at once.

The Magister continued.

“Lightning, Steam, Mineral, Radiance.” Henry pointed toward the space between the Prime Elements and the Positive Element.

“Smoke, Magma, Ooze, Ice,” Henry continued, pointing to the linear intersections where the Primary Elements met. “Often mistaken for quasi-elemental. These are Para-Elemental Planes, free from Positive or Negative influence.”

Finally, he pointed below at the absolute darkness that is the Negative Plane and its corners.

“Ash, Dust, Salt…” The Magister paused. “...and Void.”

The vision faded.

“Gwen, please manifest,” he commanded.

Gwen opened her mind’s eye. A parallel vision coalesced on the floor below, reflecting her astral form: a lithe, transparent body filled with clear motes of lightning and uncertain motes of something else.

“Beautiful.” Alesia touched a hand to her mouth. “What a wonderful Astral Form, Gwen, such clarity!”

“Alesia, if you would join us.”

Alesia followed suit; it was an ultimate act of trust, for exposing one’s Astral Body was akin to bearing one's soul, leaving nothing to hide.

Flame began to manifest from underneath Alesia, expanding as a swarm of fireflies taking flight until slowly, the silhouette of a feminine figure took form. Unlike Gwen’s crystalline visage, the edges of Alesia's Astral Form was a heat haze. Her Astral Projection then grew in intensity until it became a roaring forest fire, first red, then yellow, then blue, then ultimately, white. When she finished, the Chamber was aglow with iridescence, illuminated by a woman-shaped fission reactor.

“Tone it down a little, Alesia.” Henry shielded his eyes with a localised Abjuration.

Alesia diminished her output until her Astral Body assumed the comfortable glow of a hearth fire.

“I understand you want to show off, but Gwen’s going to need new eyes." Gwen's Master murmured.

Alesia staggard back when Gwen reappeared with two swollen orbs, watery with tears.

“So…so wonderful…” Gwen attempted to give her sister-in-craft a thumbs-up, pointed at an entirely different direction.

“I am so sorry Gwen…” Alesia fumbled for an injector then gave her blinded sister-in-craft a shot in the arm, restoring her seared pupils.

“So rash…” Henry shook his head, that temperament of hers was the reason he withheld a public Apprentice from Alesia.

With her vision restored, Gwen breathed a little easier.

“Right, let's continue.” Henry reminded them. “Gwen, use your favourite spell."

Gwen closed her eyes, focused her mind, then began her chant.

"Blast Bolt!"

She channelled her favourite Evocation magic, observing the interchange of mystical energies within her body.

A stink of ozone followed the flash of Lightning.

Henry clapped.

“Now try your other element,” Henry commanded. "The Void Element."

"The Void... Element, Sir?"

"Go on, see how well it answers your call."

"Blast Bolt!"

Gwen attempted to channel the black motes of energy within her body into the Evocation Sigil, but the Elemental Gate remained dormant. She tried again, but the tenebrous specks appeared oblivious to her will.

“… I am sorry Master." Gwen's face was scarlet. "I can't."

“That’s fine… What was it like when you used the Void Element last time?”

Clearing her mind, she recounted a few hypotheticals. The first time, she deduced, was likely after her terrible ordeal at her mother’s luncheon, where she had a meltdown in the middle of Hyde Park. The next time would be when Edgar attempted to consume her ego.

“… and both time you had…” Alesia asked uncomfortably. “Thoughts of self-harm?”

Gwen lowered her head. She knew it was a weakness, one brought by fear and despair, uncertainty and self-loathing.

“No need to feel ashamed,” Henry's assurance was calm and soothing. “I am familiar with the Void Element myself. Void, you see, is triggered by intensely negative emotions - not unusual seeing that the Negative Plane corresponds strongly to death and destruction, just as the Positive Plane enables life and restoration.”

Kilroy considered the visage of Gwen's Astral Body a moment more before appearing to make a decision.

"I am sorry," Gwen wondered if she had displeased her new Master already if he was regretting taking her on.

“Your Astral Body is unique,” He began. “Twin elements, oppositional in polarity, a true oddity. One that is perhaps, rarer than my own. Observe-"

Without effort, Henry expanded his Astral presence, filling the reflection below with a pyrotechnic of colour. From Gwen's perspective, Henry Kilroy's mana signature was an astral wonder.

First, there was Fire.

Then came Water.

A rusty ochre indicated Earth.

The fourth, barely visible, could only be Air.

“Do you see?”

Gwen nodded. She saw though she did not comprehend. The manifestation was impossible; it made no sense. For Henry to possess four Primary Elements meant that her textbooks were full of lies.

The Magister then opened his palm, and Gwen saw a miniature Sufina, chubby and cute, move within the space of his palm.

“Fire, Water, Earth, Air - Evocation, Conjuration, Transmutation,” the Magister said solemnly. “Together, they make the Prime Material, invisible to us because we miss the forest for the trees. My unique Element, Gwen, is the element of Life.”

Gwen nodded, too awed to speak.

“Don't fret over your inexperience. We were all young, once. When I was a child, they called me a fool, a useless nincompoop. When I was a young man, they called me a prodigy. When I was an adult, they called me a Magus. When I grew older, they called me Magister. Do you wish to know the lesson I learned, Gwen?"

"Master?"

"I sought out guidance, Gwen. With humility and without shame. Far and wide I travelled and tested myself, visiting all the Maguses and Magisters who were willing to teach me, telling them about my talents.”

The Magister gave Gwen a look that was full of knowing, hinting at something that made Gwen’s stomach lurch.

“We all have our secrets. People fear those who are different, what cannot be attained by themselves especially, but that's just human nature. They would call you strange, reject you, accuse you, or mayhap they would do the opposite, uphold you, put you on a pedestal. Your Void Element: it is rare, and it is incredibly dangerous. But do not fear that which is a part of you. Control it, don’t let it control and feed on you. Don't hide it from the world and let it fester.”

“Thank you, Master…” The old man’s wise words filled Gwen with warmth, but then the old Master's next words poured over her like a bucket of arcane ice.

“But back to the topic of guidance, Gwen Song.” Kilroy's voice rose an octave, as though a man who suddenly found himself in possession of the world’s largest rough diamond. “If you don't mind, my Apprentice, can you explain to me why you have yet to Awaken?”


When the Gwen was just sixteen, her father remarried. His fiancèe was a younger caucasian woman only five-years older than Gwen. Before their engagement, Gwen had met her a dozen times, each time keeping out of her way. A week before the wedding, her future step-mother decided to have an unexpected heart to heart.

“You’re a bad influence on your father,” she sobbed, standing so close that her forehead almost touched Gwen's chin. “You have too much of your mother in you. It is making our family miserable.”

It wasn't an unreasonable accusation. Gwen's insolent rebellion against her father did somewhat castrate Morye's masculine authority.

“I’ve waited three months for you to leave already. We want you gone. What do you want? Money? A place to stay? That’s all fine. We’ll pay for it, so long as you get out of the house."

Morye wasn't a confrontational father and so had left Gwen's inevitable exodus to take its natural course. Gwen had planned to save up money working her summer job at Bondi, then move out to a state housing project for teens in Crowsnest, not far from Blackwattle.

Though not unsympathetic for her step-mother, something in Gwen's gut had caught on a nail. She promised her future step-mother that she would move out, then promptly called Helena, informing her father was getting married, at this location, at this particular time. Fearing that her mother wasn't enough of a shit-storm, she also called Kwan and told him the step-mother had designs on her and Percy’s inheritance.

The wedding had gone swimmingly after that; right up shit creek.

At the ceremony, several large vans deposited buckets of excreta over the gates, the red carpet, and a part of the venue's decor. It was a symbolic message of displeasure delivered by a well-connected and influential family.

“How did Helena know?”
“How did Kwan find out?”

The bride's eyes turned toward Gwen, who froze on the spot.

They knew.

What did her new Master and her sister-in-craft suspect?

Gwen felt paralysed by that familiar 'oh shit' feeling.

How to explain that a part of her soul, presumably her original partition, wasn't Awakened? Wasn't the 'Awakening' the single most important thing taught to Mages, indoctrined and emphasised from birth?

“I... I am not Awakened?” Her mind was a shamble of tangled thorns, her tongue caught in a barb wire snare. “I… I don’t know.”

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Gwen screamed to herself, useless brain!

“Impossible!” Alesia was no less surprised than Gwen. “She'd been an Evoker the whole time. I trained her myself!”

Henry's eyes glinted.

“Look here.” He pointed at Gwen’s astral form, where her crystalline silhouetted body was reflected below. “The interaction between her Lightning Element and her Evocation Sigil is strange, don't you think? Notice how they detour and branch out before manifesting outside her body.”

Gwen looked down and observed to her distress that discharges of electricity from her Evocation Sigil were indeed circulating here and there needlessly.

How was I supposed to know that! Gwen screamed internally, the textbooks we had were pieces of shit, they barely explained anything other than common phenomena! Fuck this world and its lack of Wikipedia!

“A portion of her Astral Soul remains intact and untouched,” Henry intoned sagely with a flourish. “Virginal, even!”

“…” Gwen’s complexion caught fire.

Alesia threw her master an admonishing glare.

“So… Gwen, my Apprentice,” Henry hurriedly continued, dismissing his faux pas. “You don’t know?”

“No Sir,” Gwen confessed. "I wasn't very studious at school."

"You know nothing?"

Gwen shook, then nodded, then shook her head.

“Ah well.” Henry shrugged. "No worries."

“Sir?” Gwen spluttered. "I am sorry?"

“It's fine. I said,” The Magister repeated himself.

“Why, Master?” Gwen's shock and horror were now turning into indignation and confusion. It was fine, no worries? Was the mystery of her dual-Elemental origin merely a lark at the pub? Was she a sheep with an extra horn? She'd been so terrified of becoming an other-worldly specimen that she could have peed!

Henry's expression informed Gwen she was the one who was unreasonable.

"Must you have an answer, child?" Henry chuckled. “I don’t know why ‘I’ could tap into the Prime elements but not the Positive nor Negative, either.”

The Magister continued.

“I don’t know why Alesia can channel the heat of a radiant star without her Astral Form imploding.”

“I don’t know why the Dragons don’t just wipe us from the face of this earth once and for all.”

“I don’t know the hearts of men, especially the brazen ambitions of my fellow Magisters.”

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“I don’t know if I made the right choice in offering you a Geas.”

Henry Kilroy, Master of the Sydney Tower, laughed.

“Do you know the reason why your Astral Body remained dormant?”

The answer was 'no'.

Gwen awoke in another world without any discernable reason. She tapped into both Void and Lightning, all the while knowing very little about Spellcraft or Magic. What happened to the old Gwen? Where did her anima go? Was her current being an amalgamation of both Gwens or merely her own?

“No…” Gwen answered with absolute honesty.

“Then who am I to know?” The Magister had an expression of a wise professor imparting a gift of erudition. “The sea of knowledge has no boundaries; we are but sailors skimming its unfathomable depth. So much more knowledge remains to be uncovered, buried a full fathom five, deep below with the bones of the world. Who would have the courage to delve so deep?"

Gwen exhaled, the cadence of her heart's palpitation eased.

She realised that the whole while, her Master was trying to elucidate her fears and staunch her paranoia, setting her woes at peace. His meandering speeches reminded her a little of Plato's account of his teacher, Socrates, whose instruction took place through dialogue, not indoctrination. She was beginning to understand why Alesia gave off such a feeling of cool independence and confidence in everything she did, happily owning every action and decision.

"I think I understand," Gwen replied.

“Good. There is no shame in not knowing. It is when you cease to be curious that you are truly ignorant.” Henry indicated to her reflection. “But for now, let's see some progress."

“Progress?” Gwen's tongue had loosened enough to venture beyond fragments of speech. "Progress to what, Master?"

“Oh, you naive little girl…” Henry’s gaze blazed with great expectation. “Why, your Awakening, dear.”

“How exciting!” Alesia squealed, swinging Gwen's hand to and fro. “Gwen, if this goes well, you're very quickly going to become a Magus! To think that you’re going to embark on the Path with two Schools of Magic, and you’re only fifteen! The others are going to struggle to catch up!”

For some reason, Gwen thought of Yue and Elvia. She wondered if they had safely arrived back at the dorm yet.

“I wouldn’t count your cockatrices before they hatch,” Henry warned them. “The ideal scenario is that Gwen awakens a second school. There's a chance I am wrong as well. I am no Oracle.”

He turned to Gwen. The Magister then produced a sphere from his Storage Ring, a quartz crystal the size of a human head. Months ago, a similar device had initiated Gwen onto the Path of Spellcraft.

“This prototype is much higher tier than the common crystal used by government schools. It is crafted from drake-stone, mined from Lightning Ridge. We are replacing the Awakening Stones region by region, though I am afraid it will be some time yet before the public systems receive theirs."

“Who knows what talents we'd have missed all these years,” Alesia snidely critiqued. “All that potential, maybe more Mages like you, undetected.”

Gwen placed her hand on the stone.

"I am ready, Master."

“Channel your unmodified mana into the stone first, Gwen,” Henry instructed. “I am curious to see if your Sigil can tap into the Quasi-Elemental Plane of the Void."

"I'll try."

The transparent mana of her Astral body surged into the Awakening Stone, bringing it to life. Its ingrained conduits refined Gwen's raw mana before returning the condensed energy into her mana pool.

A safe distance from Gwen, Henry Kilroy activated a suite of diagnostic magic, studying his student as the mana orb made its way to her chest, mingling with her existing energies.

Gwen meanwhile, finally saw the Awakening as it occurred. When she had taken the stone initially, it was without the aid of a Cognisance Chamber; a government school did not possess the HDMs necessary to make such an effort for untested Acolytes. Even if they could, the Cognisance Chamber at the school was an ancient relic from the 50s. The Sydney Tower's Observatory No.1 was imported from Germany, a marvellous piece of European magical engineering.

As her soul melded into her Astral Form, she came to a renewed understanding of the underlying metaphysical principles of Magic. The Sigil, the Conduit, the Elemental Gate; one by one, she saw within the Chamber a detailed visualisation of how they manifested arcane phenomenon, translating will and energy into matter and effect.

One by one, new conduits condense within Gwen's physical body. Correspondingly, her Astral Body also underwent significant changes. Pox-like black dots of Void matter begin to collate, forming a dark nebular rivalling the electric tempest illuminating Gwen's Astral projection.

“Master, isn't that a Negative Energy Gate? Would Gwen be okay?” Alesia intoned worriedly.

“No, not that. Nothing living can survive pure, unadulterated Negative Energy,” Henry noted solemnly. “Unless Gwen originates from a line of Egyptian Jackal Priests or is secretly allied with the Death Priests of Coatlicue, I doubt she'll Awaken to the Path of Undeath."

The Magister regarded the dark motes of Energy manifesting even now,

"That, Alesia, is the Void Element." Kilroy's voice seemed to meander somewhere far away. “A voracious and ruthless Element fuelled by eternal hunger. There is a reason why we so seldom see Mages of this element, can you guess why, Alesia?”

Alesia looked toward her Master alarmingly. Gwen, a Void Mage?

“It is because the fuel for Void spells consist of life, light, and existence itself. It is corrosive by nature, an Element that ultimately consumes its host.”

“So... Void Mages destroy themselves? Is Gwen going to be okay?"

“I do not know," Henry repeated his earlier anaphora.

“Should we let her continue to manifest?” Alesia demanded alarmingly; she would rather Gwen be mediocre than having her sister-in-craft perish from self-harm.

“She should be fine, for now. In time, we shall see if she destroys herself, or if we have to take up that mantle."

"You're talking about..."

"Yes."

"But you can guide her, right? We can guide Gwen so that she doesn't misuse the Void element."

“There will come a time…” Henry's eyes gazed into a middle distance Alesia could not see. “...when the hunger becomes too great. It begins, at first, with those struck down by one's spells, whose essence nourishes the Void, slowly offsetting the effects of using the element. Then, with increased expertise, it becomes easier, quicker and more convenient, to draw upon that absurd power continually. With each tier of progressively more powerful spells, the Void Mage desires alternate sources to sustain their magic. Items at first, supplemental magic, then small sacrifices here and there, a few Drain Life rituals, maybe use your enemies’ vitality against them. Eventually, inevitably, the hunger takes over the Mage's mind, it’s all they think about, the more power they accumulate, the more biomass they need to consume, until finally…”

“Master," Alesia interjected, cutting off her Master's mumbling tirade. "Surely you're giving Gwen a chance!"

Kilroy met his student's imploring gaze.
In a second, he restored his mind to clarity.

"Of course. Did I not take Gwen on as an Apprentice? What manner of a Master would I be to shirk from the duty of polishing a difficult gem? Other would only do her wrong."

"But you just said-" Alesia stopped. "You will? So the Void isn't dangerous?"

Henry's voice seems to grow in strength as he spoke his next words.

"Wood, Void, Lightning - Elements are just that, Alesia: sources of blind and unfeeling primordial energy. I speak of the Void, its nature - not Gwen herself. For a young girl to know our Credo better than even ourselves, who am I to judge how she will take to her Void-tinged powers? As I said, I am not the Oracle of Delphi. It is the spell of the heart that murders, not the spell of the hand, do you understand?"

"I think I do, Master," Alesia worriedly answered. The Flame Magus had seldom seen her master in such a contemplative mood.

Kilroy patted his second Apprentice on the shoulder.

“Be Gwen's friend, Alesia, support her when she is scared, give her solace when she is lonely, offer her advice when she is confused. So long as she does not use her power out of fear, recklessness, or ill-conceived passions, she will be safe."

"Master, I-"

“Look there!" Henry tightened his grip, his thoughts no longer of the present, but of yesterdays he'd thought long forgotten. "She's Awakened!”


A blue-silver Sigil flared, guiding the Void matter into the girl's Astral Form. As motes of the tenebrous energy circulated, carving out new mana conduits, the crystalline body of her Astral reflection grew larger, taller and more refined.

Now elucidated by her Master, Alesia studied her sister-in-craft's illusory projection, above which the girl's mental and physical exertion had soaked Gwen to the bone with exhaustive perspiration.

As with a griffin chick, Gwen was currently weak and vulnerable. She and her Master would have to keep Gwen under wraps, hidden, disguised from the rest of the Mageocracy, letting news of her talent cascade little by little. Most importantly, the Tower must not suspect that its Master had chosen to temporarily obfuscate the girl’s Void Element, as well as her connection to the Mythic.

Considering how desperately the Frontier hungered for military might, Gwen's Path was undoubtedly going to be a difficult one. There was a balancing act which she would have to accomplish, a narrow ledge between autonomy and been used and abused by the powers that be. Given Henry's wisdom and knowledge, it would take no more than a few years for Gwen to stand on her own. In time, she could travel with Alesia and her Master to a tier 1 city to receive her tertiary education. Furthermore, they also had Gunther to enact a little helpful nepotism. Surely the oldest of her Master's Apprentices had a duty to look out for his cute and endearing little sister.

“Conjuration.” Alesia recognised the mana signature.

"Indeed." Henry concurred.

Gwen opened her eyes, feeling her drenched blouse plastered to her skin, her thighs were likewise slick with sweat.

“I did it?” She found the Magus and Magister standing at a polite distance.

“You sure did!” Her sister-in-craft ran toward Gwen, then bodily embraced her, heedless of the girls' waterlogged condition.

“Congratulations Gwen, you are now also a Conjurer!”

A Conjurer! Her heart soared. A summoner of magical creatures! Principal Bartlett was a Conjurer, and so's her Master! Conjuration was one of the most versatile Schools of Magic!

Alesia conjured up a towel, telling Gwen she could change and take a shower once they’re back at the apartment. The room began to dim, the illusory projection fading until only the white expanse remained.

“Let us return to Sufina’s chamber; there is much that we must discuss,” Henry intoned, patting Gwen’s embarrassingly moist shoulders.

Their return journey was unmolested by guards. Alesia operated the lift until it reached their destination. The trio then crossed the threshold of time and space, reentering the viridian grot.

“Kisses!” Sufina materialised and embraced Gwen, nudging the Apprentice woodenly, her figure a hybrid of floral and feminine beauty. “Your scent is even more delicious now. I could just gobble up your Essence.”

“That’s because you’re both a Conjurer and possess the vitality of the Mythic,” Henry explained. “Both of which are very attractive to Sufina.”

“She consumes Essences?”

“All Dryads do.” Henry grinned. “Sufina has a preference for female Mages though, and she assumes the form of her favourites. Don't mind her; she doesn't need your vitality. Her grot in the Wildlands sustains her just fine."

The trio assumed the seating arrangements from before. Sufina then brought another serving of Golden Mead and manna cakes.

Gwen hungrily stuffed a cake into her mouth. For some reason, she was famished.

“Now that you have access to your second element, Gwen, I am going to teach you about the Void element and its particulars. You must be very, very careful in using it….”

Gwen gulped half a cup of mead, feeling its warmth dispelling her hunger.

Henry spoke at length about the dangers of living beings channelling Quasi-Negative Energy, and how self-destructive the process could be without the proper warding and training.

“Is there a way to use the Void without self-harm?” Gwen enquired disappointingly. It seemed her new element has a significant drawback.

“To do so would go against the nature of life,” Henry spoke with a tone of reprimand. “I would not venture to suggest there is a way, for that would guide you down the path of Death Cults and Necromancy.”

Gwen shivered, just those names made her skin crawl.

"Yeah, we Purge those," Alesia warned her as well to drive the point home.

“It would put you in direct opposition to the Frontier, the Mageocracy, and the Tower,” Henry warned. "Not even I would venture to support an Apprentice who practices Necromancy and the Dark Arts. Think about the Credo, Gwen, and if you must use the power of the Void, use it because it is necessary, because the good outweighs the bad, because the toll was worth it. It is the ultimate form of self-sacrifice.”

Gwen nodded.

“Noblesse Oblige, you had told me.” Henry smiled kindly, the weathered lines of his face crisscrossing like old crags. “One must never disjoin remorse from power.”

“I will live by those words, Master.”

“Your words," the Magister reiterated. "And mayhap one day, all of our words. I look forward to your future actions.”

Leaning back in his throne, the Magister grew fatigued.

"Master, you need to rest," Alesia took Gwen by the hand. "I'll take care of her."

With that, Alesia bid her Master farewell. Gwen and Alesia watched him recede into the Grot, braced by Sufina.

Gwen finished the rest of her mead with an anxious heart. Was her Master that frail? Just how old was he?

“Let's go take that long deserved break.” Alesia patted Gwen on the shoulder. "How about a fancy dinner, my shout?"

To their surprise, the platform arrived with two guards, the very ones who had accompanied them earlier. Their manner, however, was divorced from any amiability.

“Major, Magister Walken would like to speak to you and the young lady,” one of them informed her with an expression full of sadistic schadenfreude.

“Does he have an appointment?” Alesia asked sardonically, mocking his earlier remark from their first encounter in the atrium.

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The man’s face took on a dangerous hue.

“Be glad that the Magister has made time to see you. Do not waste his generosity.”

Without Alesia’s command, the platform began to move, drifting through the chambers of the building towards some unknown destination.

“Cadet, stop this platform at once,” Alesia commanded, her voice cracking like blistering fire. With mild alarm, Gwen noted the temperature around them was rising dramatically, enough to dry out her blouse.

“You can lodge your displeasure to Magister Walken, Major.” The cadet ignored Alesia's command.

So these are the "Factions" within the Tower, Gwen observed, distressed by this unexpected turn. Besides her, Alesia’s ire rose to a new temperate. Gwen sensed that any moment now, she was about to enrol the Cadet for the infirmary's burn-unit.

Gwen held her breath.

"!"

There was a flicker of flame; then the console ignited with a scarlet fire that seared the man’s hands, yet left the instruments untouched. A caracal materialised upon the platform, hissing at the guard, bearing its fangs.

“Major, you can’t do this!"

“What's wrong with punishing disobedient subordinates?"

“To disobey a direct request from a Magister is unacceptable!”

“Too bad you won’t be around to see it.” Alesia bared her teeth at her offender, then kicked the offending Cadet away from the console, sending him crashing to the floor.

_A Transmutation-enhanced chest-stomp!_ Gwen stared. _Ouch!_

Now in control, Alesia commanded the Levitation Platform to detour toward the Teleportation Circles. To Gwen's dismay, the second guard possessed the nerve to have a got at Alesia behind her back.

"Lightning G-"

Before Gwen could deliver the stun spell, the guard screamed and felt to his knees, a mote of scarlet flame had ignited one of his ears, reducing it to a bloody, molten mess.

“Maybe your Magister would be kind enough to gift you a Regeneration spell,” Alesia intoned nastily. “Although I certainly wouldn’t waste tier 5 healing on a worthless grunt.”

“You dare attack us with spells!”

“Did you hear me cast a spell, asshole?” Alesia snapped back. “That was self-defence by my Flame Spirit, responding to your unprovoked hostility.”

“How dare you!”

“How dare you!” Alesia snapped back, still driving the lift toward her intended destination. “You want to try me? Who's going to mourn you?”

The guards fell silent. For the next minute, Gwen remained still as a statue as the guards groaned, one clutching his groin and the other cupping his mangled face.

But the platform descended into the Teleportation Circle Chamber, Gwen could see that they were surrounded. Below, a dozen guards in bone-coloured uniforms awaited them.

“Major De Botton! Give yourself up! Your unprovoked assault of a Junior Officer is intolerable!” A Sergeant levelled what appeared to be a wand at Gwen's sister-in-craft.

Alesia pulled Gwen behind her, shielding the girl with her scarlet visage. The Enchanted dimensions of the Tower's interior ensured that escape by force or Spellcraft was nigh impossible, not to mention she still had Gwen with her. The Guards all possessed Sonic Suppression wands, a Magi-tech item devised by the Americans, capable of disrupting spell-casting. Alesia was immune to the interference from one, two, or even five or six of the damn things, but a dozen, at this proximity? Not even she was sure what would happen. Of course, she could burn them all to cinders, but that would escalate matters far beyond Factional rivalry - it would be mass murder.

Contacting her Master was out of the question. It would offer damning evidence that the eternally neutral Master of the Tower was not so indifferent after all. As Kilroy's blunt instrument, she had to keep her distance in public.

So, what will it be? Alesia pondered. If she could maim at least half of them, she could force them to reactivate the Teleportation Circles.

“What’s all this racket about?”

A piercing voice boomed across the room, resonating across the dimensionally distorted chamber like a thunderclap. The confrontation between Alesia and the Guards momentarily adjourned, brokering an uneasy truce as to face the unexpected intruder.

“Impossible, the Teleportation Circles were locked!” One of the guards muttered in confusion.

"Shhh!" his colleague hissed. "The Paladin has override authority from the Tower's Control Spirit."

A man descended from the platform. Gwen opted for the diction of 'descended' because that was precisely the imposing presence she had felt. Where mortal men walked, here was a man who bestrode the air like a Demi-God.

A radiant halo atop the man filled the room, a brilliance like those depicted in paintings of Apostles and Angels, forcing Gwen to squint. The intruder sported short, cropped, coffee-bean hair, loosely styled in the manner popular with soldiers. His face was handsome, chiselled, set in perfect proportions, its strong definition meeting at his broad, cleft chin. His eyes, two steely orbs, held intact in their sky-blue gaze the display before him with utter disdain. Below a bullish neck, he possessed the build of a military man, with well toned, muscular arms that made the fabric strain against his shoulders. The man was also tall, almost six-and-a-half feet, made taller by horned leather boots that kicked the marble pavement.

“Scarlet, how nice it is to see you." The intruder crossed the floor of the Teleportation Chamber with the confidence of a king surveying his domain.

Beside the Scarlet Sorceress, Alesia’s burning hostility simmer until it reduced to that of a tempered campfire, crackling with unexpected warmth.

“Lord Gunther Schultz,” she spoke with a tingle of sweetness that Gwen had never before heard in Alesia’s voice. “How fortuitous your arrival must be.”

“Oh, please,” Gunther replied. “Not too late, am I?”

Gunther walked through the gang of guards like a shepherd amongst a flock of wayward, bleating sheep. The guards backed away awkwardly, their hands gripping their Suppressors with white-knuckled intensity.

“Paladin, please pardon yourself. We are in the middle of apprehending Miss De Botton,” One of the guards, the Guard Captain, announced carefully. The role of Paladin made Gunther the judicial enforcer of the Tower Master's law. If the Radiant Mage wished to punish the Captain for insubordination, no one would bat an eye, not even Magister Walken.

To the Guard Captain's surprise, Gunther abruptly turned towards him, the presence of his radiant aura ablaze with supernatural charisma.

“Cadet, what is the correct protocol to address your Paladin?”

The guard’s face blanched.

He turned stiffly toward Gunther, holstering his Suppressor as he did so. Stepping precisely two paces away, he raised a hand and saluted, locking his elbow mechanically.

“Permission to speak, Lord Paladin! Sir!”

“Denied.” Gunther glared down range at the sweltering Captain from up on high, snapping him a crisp, returning salute. “Remove yourself at once!”

The Guards looked at one another, hoping that perhaps, a certain Magister who had sent them here would materialise and somehow save their skins. When no such Magister made an entrance in the next few seconds, they deflated like spent balloons.

Gwen couldn't know - but was a strange hierarchy here in the Tower. The Mageocracy of old, established by the Brittanic Commonwealth, set the ground rules for Spellcraft seniority. At the same time, Military Rank imposed by the Frontier Military offered contradictions to the archaic rank set by tradition. Magister Walken was Gunther's senior, but the man did not possess a military title. Gunther, on the other hand, held the positions of Magus, Paladin, and the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. As guards of the Tower, the men were effectively Military Police. If Gunther wished to throw the book at the guards, there was little they could do but appeal to the Magister himself.

“Return to your post!” The Captain shouted at his men. As one, the guards holstered their weapons, then gladly made for their posts within the Tower.

“Have a good day, Sir.” the Captain saluted Gunther again, before turning to Alesia with a look of pure contempt. “Major.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Alesia snapped back.

The two locked eyes until Gunther placed himself between the two.

“Good day, Captain, I will speak to the Magister Walken on your behalf.” Gunther shot the Guard Captain an apologetic look.

“Shit for brains.” Alesia was determined to have the last word. "Lapdog!"

Watching Alesia's triumphant expression, Gwen realised the exact reason for Master Kilroy's reserve for her sister-in-craft. Alesia was a loose cannon! She was a powerful Mage, but the woman was a battering ram! She was incapable of taking an insult in any way other than Newton’s Third Law! That Captain was a prick for sure, but even Gwen understood that the hapless bastard was following orders. What good did it to do to whip an attack dog, especially when its owner refused to show up? Watching Alesia kick the man while he's down, no wonder Alesia was the Tower's pariah. If she took on Yue as an Apprentice, and the two of them combined their fiery temper, wouldn't they become the true Dynamic Duo? Was this world strong enough to survive a partnership of that magnitude?

With the Guards dispersed, the women were left alone with Gunther, somehow more impressive up close. It wasn’t so much that his body was overly bulky, like men obsessed with mass, but that the Radiant Mage filled the room with his presence. It was different to Gwen’s mother, who sucked the attention from a room onto herself, for Gunther's presence made any space instantly smaller.

“My place, dinner,” Alesia whispered under her breath.

“See you then.” Came the discrete reply. Gunther strode past the pair onto a Levitation Platform, bidding them adieu.

“Was that our...” Gwen began, but Alesia made her shush.

She took Gwen’s hand. Once again the two mounted the Teleportation Platform, where Alesia invoked the Glyph for her apartment, and the two were away.