The first thing Carter became aware of was the low, gentle hum.
It was a soft, resonant sound that seemed to vibrate in the very air around him, a stark contrast to the chaotic, roaring silence in his mind just before he blacked out.
The second thing he noticed was the scent of lavender and fresh rain, a calming aroma that soothed the frayed edges of his consciousness.
He opened his eyes. He was in the infirmary, the soft, ambient light of the glowing crystals on the ceiling a gentle welcome back to the world.
He felt fine. More than fine. The searing, white hot pain of the Dissonance was gone, replaced by a clean, quiet clarity.
He sat up, his body feeling light and refreshed, as if he’d just woken from a long, deep sleep.
“Ah, you are awake!” a deep, cheerful voice boomed from the bed next to him, the words carrying a thick, rolling Russian accent.
Carter turned to see Yulian sitting up, a wide, irrepressible grin on his face.
The big Russian looked completely recovered from his own catastrophic backlash, his immense frame radiating a boundless, almost childlike energy.
He was already dressed in his training uniform, looking as if he were ready to go another ten rounds with his magma golem.
“You were out for a long time,” Yulian said. “Like a sleeping bear in winter. But Lady Seraphina, she is a miracle worker.”
Before Carter could reply, the doors to the infirmary slid open with a soft hiss, and Ruby walked in, a cheerful smile on her face.
“Look who’s back with the living,” she said, her pink eyes sparkling with a mixture of relief and amusement. “How are you feeling, superstar?”
“I… I’m fine,” Carter said, surprised by how steady his own voice sounded. “Actually, I feel great. How long was I out?”
“A few hours,” Ruby replied, pulling up a chair and sitting between their two beds.
“You collapsed right after your test. Gave everyone a pretty good scare. Seraphina said you’d be fine, though. Just a classic case of a pushing your luck with Dissonance.”
“You’ll have a nasty headache tomorrow, but you’re cleared for the tournament.”
“They already posted the matchups?” Carter asked, a new, nervous energy beginning to buzz under his skin.
Ruby’s smile widened into a mischievous grin. “Yup. They went up while you were sleeping. It’s in the dining hall for everyone to see.” She stood up, a playful, expectant look on her face.
“C’mon. I’ll show you.”
Carter swung his legs out of the bed, a slight, phantom throb echoing behind his eyes, the only reminder of the immense power he had unleashed.
He and Yulian followed Ruby out of the infirmary and through the now familiar, grand corridors of the Library.
The dining hall was a vast, open space with a high, vaulted ceiling and long, heavy wooden tables that could seat hundreds. It was late, and the hall was mostly empty, but their small group of recruits was gathered at a table near the back, their conversation a low, excited buzz.
As they approached, the others looked up, their faces a mixture of relief and genuine concern.
“Hey! You’re alive!” Nico said, a wide, friendly grin on his face.
“That was some crazy shit,” Keyona added, her eyes wide with a newfound respect.
“I’ve never seen anything like that.”
“Are you alright?” Paige asked, her voice laced with a quiet, analytical concern.
“The Dissonance from a Mixed Spell of that magnitude must have been significant.”
“I’m fine,” Carter says, a small, almost embarrassed smile on his face. “Seraphina fixed me up.”
“She’s awesome,” Yulian booms, clapping Carter on the back with a force that nearly sends him stumbling.
Ruby just laughs and points to a large, white slate board that has been set up on an easel near the entrance of the hall. On it, a simple, stark, and terrifyingly real tournament bracket has been drawn.
Carter’s eyes scan the matchups, his heart beginning a low, steady, and heavy rhythm in his chest. Akira, as the top-seeded recruit from the previous day’s demonstration, has a bye in the first round. The others are not so lucky.
Round 1:
- Nico Reyes vs. Paige Hellen
(Winner faces Akira Kendo) - Yulian Volkov vs. Keyona Baker
- Carter Cross vs. Amy Soo-young
“They told us the winner of the whole tournament gets their first choice of team placement,” Paige explains, her eyes fixed on the bracket, a look of intense, strategic calculation on her face.
“All the Team Leaders: Miguel, Freya, and the others, will be present during our battles. I guess they want first dibs on the best recruits.”
“It is a good prize,” Yulian says, a competitive fire in his eyes as he looks at Keyona.
“I will enjoy our battle, Keyona. You are strong.”
Keyona just smirks, a dangerous, predatory light in her own eyes.
“Don’t get cocky, big guy. Your rock monster won’t save you.”
Carter looks at his own matchup, a knot of apprehension tightening in his stomach.
Amy huh?, he thinks. Gravity magic. He remembers the effortless way she had flown, the absolute, terrifying control she had demonstrated.
She is not a powerhouse like Yulian or a walking weapon like Keyona.
She is something else entirely, something he doesn’t know how to fight.
Akira, who has been eating in stoic, detached silence at the end of the table, finishes his meal.
He stands, his movements clean and efficient, and places his tray on a nearby rack.
He has not said a single word during the entire conversation, his presence a silent, intimidating weight on the group’s excited chatter.
“Where are you going?” Ruby asks, turning to look at her cousin.
“To take a piss,” Akira replies, his voice a flat, emotionless drone.
“And then I am going to sleep. Unlike the rest of you, I don’t need to worry about the first round.”
He turns and walks out of the dining hall without another word, his back straight, his confidence an unbreachable fortress.
“He is… pleasant,” Yulian says, his voice a low, sarcastic rumble.
“You get used to it,” Ruby replies with a sigh.
After they finish their own meals, the recruits begin to disperse, the weight of the coming day settling over them.
They walk back to their quarters, the earlier, excited energy replaced by a quiet, focused determination.
On the way back to his room, in a quiet, empty corridor, Carter runs into Akira.
The prodigy is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, as if he has been waiting for him.
“I won’t lie to you,” Akira says, his voice a low, serious growl, the earlier arrogance gone, replaced by a pure, unadulterated competitor’s focus.
“That was impressive earlier. Your control, your power… it is far greater than I anticipated.”
He pushes himself off the wall and takes a step closer, his red eyes boring into Carter’s.
“But just know, if you DO make it to the final round, I will win.”
Carter felt a surge of his own competitive fire. He was no longer the intimidated, insecure boy from the rooftop party. He had faced down his own demons, stared into the abyss of his own power, and come out the other side.
He knew what he was capable of.
Was he the only one who’d been training? The only one with something to prove?
“You saw everyone’s skills earlier,” Carter replied, his own voice calm and steady, a quiet confidence he didn’t know he possessed rising to meet Akira’s challenge.”
“You saw what Nico did to your magic. You saw what Paige and Amy can do. Who says YOU will even make it to the final round yourself?”
A slow, cold smirk spread across Akira’s face.
“Oh, that is practically guaranteed,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous whisper.
“Because I have one thing that you and the others do not have.”
“Experience.”
“Real, brutal, life or death experience. Straw dummies don’t hit back. Sleep tight. Don’t embarrass yourself tomorrow.”
He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the silent corridor, leaving Carter alone with the weight of his challenge.
In The Director’s Office…
Gabriel was in his office, a vast, circular room at the very top of the Library’s central spire. The walls were not just walls, above them was circular, ring of enchanted panes of glass and a dome that offered a breathtaking, 360-degree view of the endless, star-dusted sky.
Killian Faust stood before his massive, obsidian desk, his expression a mask of weary resignation.
“It is a promising group of recruits,” Gabriel said, his voice a calm, serene melody.
“Perhaps one of the strongest we have seen in years.”
“They’re good kids,” Killian agreed, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.
“They’re strong. They’re smart. They’ll make fine agents.”
“They will need more than that, Killian,” Gabriel said, his golden eyes meeting Killian’s.
“They will need a leader. A mentor. Someone who understands the darkness they are about to face, because he has lived in it himself.”
“I ask you again. Have you reconsidered my offer to form your own team?”
“We’ve been over this, Gabe,” Killian said, his voice tight.
“I’m not what they need. I’m a relic. My methods are… outdated. Gendric can teach them how to fight. Damien can teach them how to think. What’s left for me?”
“To teach them how to survive,” Gabriel replied, his voice gentle but firm.
“Gendric teaches them the rules of combat. Damien teaches them the rules of magic.”
“But you, Killian… you know that in a real fight, the rules are the first thing to break. You know how the Order thinks.”
“You know how they operate. You have spent more time in the shadows than any other agent we have.”
“That knowledge, that experience… it is a resource we cannot afford to waste, we nee to multiply it.”
Killian was silent for a long moment, his gaze lost in the sea of stars outside the window.
“I’m better suited to acquisitions,” he said finally, his voice a low, almost defeated murmur.
“You are the best we have at it,” Gabriel conceded.
“But is that what you truly want? To spend the rest of your days pulling frightened children from the fire?”
“Or do you want to teach them how to become fire themselves?”
“Maybe don’t do it for yourself, Killian. Don’t do it for me. Do it for them.”
“Help guide the next generation.”