Mentor Cilluh sat behind his desk, papers piled high around him.
"You may rise, children," he said. "So… the two brightest stars of our Skola have chosen to serve the land as well."
A pleased smile crossed his face. "Good. Very good. Shall I refer you to the Exousia then?"
"Yes, Mentor," Riche replied eagerly. "We'd like to move quickly. And… earn some Arivy."
He hesitated. "The Exousia pays well, doesn't it?"
Cilluh chuckled. "Focus on your Destiny, boys. Advancement is never cheap. The cost of strengthening one's Circle is far greater than coin. Once you are of true use to the nation, Arivy will find its way to you."
Both nodded.
"I will send your names to the Exousia branch in Avra," Cilluh continued. "You will undergo basic training. After that, you will be deployed on missions. Should you perform well…" He paused deliberately. "You may be promoted to the Penta Exousia."
Riche's eyes widened.
"As for Circles," Cilluh added, "I know the terminology is still unclear to you. Your Commanding Officer will ensure you understand everything in time."
His gaze shifted to Mihel.
Mihel stood unnaturally still, eyes unfocused.
"What troubles you, Mihel?" Cilluh asked. "Doubt? Or something else?"
Riche opened his mouth. "It's nothing, Mentor—"
Mihel stepped forward. "Something happened to my father last night." His voice was steady, but barely. "Please… protect my family while I'm gone."
Cilluh studied him closely.
Light brown eyes met his own, clear and resolute despite the weight they carried.
"For your sake, Mihel," Cilluh said at last, "I will see to your parents' safety." His voice hardened with oath.
"Through heaven and hell, in the name of the Exousia."
Mihel's breath hitched. He bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Mentor."
Cilluh opened a notebook, tore out two sheets, and signed them swiftly.
He handed the papers over and rose from his seat.
"These are your Engine tickets," he said. "Departure is at exactly 1 astra. You will not be alone. Many from your Skola are leaving today."
He smiled faintly.
"Perhaps faith in the Churches is thinning."
He stepped forward and shook their hands.
"Thank you, Mentor Cilluh," Riche said, bowing. "For all your years of guidance. We will return one day."
Mihel bowed as well. "Please don't forget us. Keep us in your thoughts."
Cilluh placed his left hand over his right chest and moved it towards the left.
"Salutis Exousia."
The boys mirrored the gesture.
"Remember," Cilluh said, "the nation comes first. Dedicate your lives to the Cause."
'The Cause?' Mihel wondered. 'Is it simply the nation… or something more?'
Cilluh chuckled softly. "Already thinking ahead, Mihel. Your Commanding Officer will explain everything soon enough."
With that, they took their leave.
Side by side, they began the long walk toward the capital city of Avra.
"Riche," Mihel said, breaking the silence. "I had a strange dream last night. I forgot to tell you earlier."
Riche's expression shifted instantly. "Yeah. I saw you twitching. Grabbing the sheets." He slowed his pace. "What did you see?"
Mihel described the nightmare, each fractured image spilling out.
As he spoke, Riche's face grew heavier, the usual spark dimming.
"It was horrible," Mihel finished quietly. "Watching myself… age. Waste away. And then—" He hesitated.
Riche nodded once. "I get it. But don't let it swallow you, though. We've got a future ahead of us." He glanced at Mihel.
"Destiny or not, your mind works differently. Sharper than anyone."
Mihel gave a faint smile. "Still sad I won't be able to beat you anymore. No Destiny, and you're an Angel. You'll probably get absurd strength or something."
As Mihel studied him more closely, he felt it again.
A warmth.
It was subtle, like standing near a low fire. Riche almost seemed to glow.
'Is that a passive ability?' Mihel wondered.
Sensing the mood darken, Riche launched into impressions of their classmates, exaggerating voices and mannerisms.
Mihel laughed despite himself.
'Riche, I'm so grateful for you'
They soon reached a wide path where several roads merged into one, all flowing toward Skaria.
People filled the route, some familiar, others strangers. Greetings passed by in fragments, but the boys kept moving.
By the time the outer walls of Skaria rose before them, their legs ached.
It had taken nearly three hours.
The dial read 10:30 eos. Two and a half hours left.
They presented their recommendation letters at the gate.
"So you chose the Exousia," one guard said approvingly. "Good. Might meet again. Maybe even serve together."
Mihel caught the name etched on the man's badge. Theren Bylion.
"I'm not settling for guard duty," Mihel said with a smile. "Sounds boring."
Theren's expression softened with something like regret. "I used to dream like that. But being a Traveller is dangerous. Better to be a Solid. Decent pay. Almost no risk."
Riche's eyes hardened. "How can you live like that?" he snapped. "Giving up on the version of yourself that wanted more?"
Theren sighed. "You'll understand someday. Fate isn't something to toy with."
He waved them through.
The capital swallowed them whole.
People flooded the streets, carrying goods, shouting orders, laughing. The scent of cooked food drifted through the air.
Tall buildings of brick and metal loomed above, windows spilling life into the streets.
A forge blazed nearby, hammering metal in ringing bursts. A child chased a dog through the crowd.
A massive fountain stood at the square's heart, angels frozen mid-song as people gathered around to eat and rest.
"This place…" Mihel whispered. "It's incredible." He swallowed. "Wahum feels so small now."
Riche nodded, too awed to speak.
He pointed to a ladder beside a bakery. Smoke poured from a hole in the roof.
"Let's get a view."
They climbed quickly and stood atop the building.
"Woah…"
Even from this modest height, the city stretched endlessly.
Three towering spires pierced the skyline, positioned like points of a triangle.
"Three major Churches," Mihel said. "You know which?"
Riche shook his head.
A cold breeze swept over them. Mihel spread his arms, letting it wash over his skin.
Then a voice called up from below.
"Excuse me," it said sharply. "Children aren't supposed to be on rooftops."
They leaned over the edge.
Below them stood a man dressed in immaculate black, not a crease out of place. A round piece of glass rested over one eye, catching the light as he looked up at them.
In one hand, he held a neat bundle of papers.
His gaze flicked over their frayed cloaks, their wind-tangled hair.
'Village boys, probably.' He thought.
The conclusion seemed to settle instantly.
"Come down, now. It's all fine. Are you new to this city?"