A full-blown celebration was already underway when Tunde made it back to Red Blossom House.

  Casks of dark brown swirling liquor had been cracked open by the dozen, and it seemed like the entirety of the house had turned out for the occasion.

  All hope of sneaking in unseen went out the window the moment Lady Ryka spotted him, drawing every eye his direction.

  He cringed as cheers went up, a mug of what was gradually becoming his favorite spicy fruit beverage was thrust into his hands, and the celebration was thrown into full gear.

  Unfamiliar faces came up to him one after another, a blur of handshakes and names that ran together.

  He recognized a handful of disciples as well as peak initiates who, if he was right, would go on to become the pillars of House Dark Fist.

  Elder Joran was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it was simply growing accustomed to the elder's presence, but Tunde once again found himself registering the absence.

  Aware that he was likely the strongest ranker in the room, he made himself comfortable in a corner and watched Isolde, Draven, and the others laugh and dance as the merriment continued deep into the night.

  The tattoo on his left breast itched at him in a steady, mild way, nothing more than a gentle nuisance that was already fading.

  He sipped from his mug, tasting the spicy sweetness of the fruit liquor, and watched until Lady Ryka made her way to his side and settled next to him in silence.

  Hundreds of initiates had somehow crammed themselves into the tavern, the space seeming to impossibly stretch to contain them all.

  He guessed the inscriptions carved into the far corners of the walls had something to do with it. She bumped his shoulder, pulling him from the observation.

  "It's not the end of the world, you know," she said.

  "The duel. Life will go on, Tunde."

  Tunde shrugged.

  "It's my one chance at assured advancement. All our hopes are hedged on it," he said softly, his voice carrying clearly over the music.

  "That's what Joran wants you to think," she said with a smile, sipping from her own mug as he turned to her.

  "He loves to live at the edge of the blade. Makes everything a do-or-die affair. If there's one fault of his I've ever known, it's that," she continued.

  "I always guessed he was going to drag you into his schemes, these pointless tussles of standing between himself and the other adepts," she said.

  "And the moment he brought you here and I heard your story, I knew you were going to be his fine blade," she added with a soft smile.

  "I have things to lose," Tunde replied, sipping again.

  "I lose my direction, I lose my one straight path to adept rank, I lose—" He paused, taking a breath.

  "I lose my way home. Crystalreach," he finished.

  Ryka said nothing for a few seconds, then pointed toward the center of the room where Isolde and Draven were dancing.

  "See them?" she asked.

  "Isolde and Draven?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  "Whatever happened between you all out at the wastelands, it jarred them," she said.

  She ran a finger around the rim of her mug and sighed softly.

  "Everyone wants to advance. Delving rifts and hurling techniques around is exciting, right up until you face a true challenge and it hits you that there are no second chances at life," she continued.

  "Isolde and Draven have been delving into rifts most of their lives. They've faced countless rift monsters. But the Corespawns and the severity of what happened out there revealed to them that they weren't built for the life of rankers," she said.

  "And now they're getting married," she finished.

  Tunde choked on his drink.

  He stared wide-eyed as Draven lifted Isolde off her feet, the one-eyed woman laughing above the clapping and cheering of those around them.

  "Marriage?" he repeated.

  "Shocked me too," Ryka said.

  "One mission outside the protection of Jade Peak and neither of them craves the thrill of battle anymore," she said. "Both have decided to open businesses within Jade Peak. Stay the path of cultivators rather than rankers," she added.

  "Is there a difference?" he asked.

  "We're all cultivators in one sense or another, born with affinities we harness either for trade or simply to better our bodies," she explained.

  "Rankers are something else. Fighters, living for the joy of the hunt and the pursuit of advancement. Then there are nulls, unfortunate souls born with no affinity but supposedly monstrous bodies." She bumped his shoulder.

  "Such as yours."

  "Met my match out in the mining territories," Tunde replied.

  "And yet you came back with nothing worse than exhaustion," she said.

  "Give yourself some credit. You were trained by the best, and your foundation is as solid as it gets."

  He offered a soft smile and turned back to the room. Isolde caught his eyes briefly, an uncertain flicker of a smile crossing her face before Draven drew her attention back.

  "She feels like they let me down out there," Tunde said.

  "Which is strange, because I spent the whole time afraid I'd come home carrying their bodies."

  "A ranker's life is as certain as a coin toss," Ryka replied.

  "Not even you would have expected to become the face of a new house the moment you stepped into Jade Peak. And yet here you are, on your way to breaking a record so old the current generation of initiates barely considers it history," she said.

  "I met Miria," Tunde said softly.

  "Oh," Ryka replied, staring at her mug.

  Tunde turned his eyes to her. She glanced back, a quiet smile in her gaze.

  "And how is she? The Lady of Tyrant's Haven?" she asked.

  Tunde shrugged.

  "Apart from being essentially like me? Fine. Seems to have the entire haven under her thumb," he replied.

  "Yes, she does have that," Ryka said with a slight frown.

  "She descends from Crystalreach as you do, though she shares none of your calm nature," she said as Tunde chuckled softly.

  "I got one of these," he said, pulling his robe aside to reveal the tattoo.

  "That is what your aura looks like?" Ryka said, studying it.

  "I must confess, I'm surprised."

  "Same thing I said," Tunde replied.

  "Don't misread me," she said.

  "With your penchant for battle and the way your eyes light up whenever it comes calling, I expected something else entirely. Something worse," she said with a smile.

  "My eyes do not light up for battle," he replied.

  "Even you don't believe that," she said with a snort.

  Tunde sipped noisily from his mug as she laughed.

  "My point, before we got off track," she said, "is that you need a reason to live beyond the race for advancement. One in a hundred makes it to disciple. One in a thousand reaches adept. You see where I'm going."

  Tunde nodded reluctantly.

  "To put it into perspective, Jade Peak has more than fifty thousand residents. More than half of those are initiates and cultivators, not rankers. Ordinary people living their lives in relative peace, keeping well clear of the ranking systems of the city and the empire as a whole," she continued.

  Tunde frowned and turned to her as something occurred to him.

  "The ranking systems aren't universal, if that's what you're about to ask," she said.

  "I haven't traveled beyond the continent, but most merchants carry stories of entirely different systems elsewhere. The Technocrats want nothing to do with such rankings from what I've heard. And Silvershade has something they call the Chosen," she added.

  "The world's a big place," Tunde said.

  "My point, again," she said.

  "Don't live only for advancement or whatever goal tethers you to the pursuit of martial strength. Do that alone and you'll find yourself with nothing left to live for sooner than you think."

  Tunde nodded.

  "Thank you," he replied, turning his gaze back to the celebration.

  "I asked Miria to join us," Tunde said.

  "House Dark Fist."

  "Miria?" Ryka asked as he nodded.

  "I wouldn't keep my hopes up on that front. She's as ruthless as they come," Ryka replied.

  "We'll see," Tunde said softly, and they watched the room in comfortable silence.

  *****

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  He went to bed early and woke with the first light. Coming down from his room, he picked carefully through the near-comatose members of Red Blossom scattered across every surface of the floor and made his way to the front door.

  Lady Ryka was already awake and humming contentedly behind the tavern counter.

  "Leaving already?" she asked.

  He nodded, adjusting his robes. He glanced at the bodies draped across the room.

  "Seems like you'll have your hands full," he said.

  "Nothing a proper wake-up call won't sort out," she replied. Behind her, the maids straightened with bright, mischievous eyes, pots and pans materializing in their hands.

  He gave a soft chuckle.

  "Might as well head to the training field, although since I'm a disciple now, I'm not sure exactly how that works," he said.

  "Head to the knowledge hall. You should find Elder Joran there. I doubt you'd be given access to the Jade Tower district even as his student," she replied.

  "Will do. Thank you," he said, turning for the door.

  "Tunde," she called.

  He paused, hand on the door. Groans rose from the floor as sunlight began slanting through the cracks.

  "Remember what I told you," she said softly.

  He nodded and stepped out of Red Blossom onto the cobbled road of Petal Street.

  "How was the celebration?" came the voice of Elder Joran from behind him.

  Turning in surprise, he found the elder seated at the far end of the building on a stone bench against the wall, hands folded in his lap, staring into the middle distance. Tunde bowed at the waist.

  "I greet the elder," he said.

  "The celebration," Joran said, waving the greeting aside.

  "You were missed," Tunde replied.

  Joran snorted.

  "I highly doubt that. An adept and elder of the clan surrounded by initiates and disciples. You'd barely hear a sound," he said.

  Tunde rubbed his void ring absently.

  "Was that why you stayed away?" he asked.

  "Partly," Joran said.

  "And I wanted it all to sink into you. This," he added, gesturing at the building, its lower bricks wrapped in moss, its walls worn and lived-in.

  "Contrary to Ryka, I believe it is worth putting your life on the line for," he continued.

  "So you were listening," Tunde said.

  Joran shrugged.

  "Out of sight does not mean out of hearing range in my case. Simply assume I'm present even when I appear not to be," he said with a quiet smile.

  "I'll take that into consideration," Tunde replied.

  "You fight not only for your place in this clan and this city," Joran said.

  "You fight for a chance at something that comes so rarely it would place you among the strongest rankers in this part of the continent, relatively speaking. You want a way home? You want the strength to be left in peace? Then this is that chance. But you already know that, don't you?"

  "I don't intend on letting it pass me by, no matter the cost," Tunde replied.

  "Good," Joran said.

  "Now. How was your encounter with Miria?"

  ****

  They left Petal Street and moved deeper into Jade Peak, passing through entire districts and areas Tunde hadn't seen before.

  He made a quiet note to get a map, something to help him navigate the city well enough to avoid being caught off-guard every time they ventured somewhere new.

  He had told the elder about the tattoo during the early part of their walk, and Joran had raised one finger to his lips in quiet contemplation without saying anything further.

  They had since boarded a small metal ovoid transport vessel that zipped through the streets at moderate speed, their first stop being the requisition hall where Elder Wren greeted them both with an eager, beaming smile that made Tunde immediately uneasy.

  The level of respect directed at him now by ordinary cultivators and rankers was something he still hadn't adjusted to, the whispers about him supplanting a ranker in the upper clan rankings following him through the corridors.

  His mind skipped past all of it and landed, somewhat heavily, on the resources Elder Wren had proceeded to load them with.

  More than enough meat, essence-tier fruits and drinks to sustain half of Red Blossom House, elixirs stacked high enough to suggest he was preparing for a siege rather than a single duel, nearly cleaned out his reserve of lumens entirely.

  He had nearly wept at the sight. Elder Wren had kept on recommending special Ethra crystals of uncommon rank and rare elixirs in rapid succession, and of course Elder Joran had agreed to every single one, stating it was all for training.

  Tunde had kept his expression carefully neutral for the entirety of the transaction and left the hall wearing the face of a man who had just signed his own financial ruin and was choosing to frame it as an investment.

  "I had a small chat with our forgesmith," Joran said within the vessel.

  That pulled Tunde back into focus. He waited.

  "Interesting, half the smithy seemed to be on leave at once. Regardless, we've both agreed you receive an offensive weapon," Joran continued.

  "Which means from now until I say otherwise, you set that aside." He nodded toward the relic.

  Tunde understood without needing the word spoken aloud.

  "You live or die by what he forges. And don't worry, he swore on his soul again. You'll be getting a proper soulbound weapon this time," Joran said.

  "It is no relic, but it will do."

  "What kind of weapon?" Tunde asked.

  "That I don't know precisely. Something bladed, though not an actual sword, I hope," Joran replied.

  "I could train for the blade. Get better with it," Tunde offered.

  "You could, but the weapon is meant to be a complement to your arsenal, not a replacement. Unless you want to move away from hand-to-hand entirely?" Joran asked.

  Tunde looked at his hands and closed them into fists.

  "No. I'll keep the hand combat," he said.

  "I believe there's a connection between the name the forgesmith keeps calling me and what that tattoo revealed," Tunde said as the vessel moved farther from the populated areas of the city.

  "Almost certainly," Joran replied.

  "But we are here to work on you, and with the days left before your fight we have more than enough time to pull that thread afterward."

  "Are a few days genuinely enough?" Tunde asked.

  "Depends on how you look at it. As I've said, Thalas is ranked second among all the clan's disciples and he is strong. But you have already crossed off every meaningful advantage he might have held over you," Joran said.

  "True battle experience and rank," Tunde replied.

  Joran nodded.

  "Your body already carries the strength of a peak disciple. By the time I'm finished with you your reflexes will match it, and you will have a weapon, same as he does. The playing field is as level as it is going to get," he explained.

  "And the clan won't help him?" Tunde asked.

  The elder crossed his legs and tilted his face toward the window despite the blindfold.

  "Lady Lirien has personally assured me he receives no assistance from the clan. And to keep it equal on my end, neither do you," he said.

  Tunde nodded and stared at his hands.

  "It's getting close," he said.

  "It is. A true fight to the end. Not that the clan's assurance it won't be to the death does much to ease my mind. Lords have been known to change their positions at short notice," Joran said lightly.

  Tunde turned to the window. The city had given way to dry, sparse land outside the vessel's narrow porthole.

  "Where are we?" he asked.

  "Jade Peak has significant stretches of abandoned land, like the outer zones," Joran replied.

  "Then why not settle the house here instead?" Tunde asked.

  If there was this much space within the city itself, why go all the way out to the borderlands?

  "Because if you want to forge a house full of strong rankers, you cannot do it inside the city, and certainly not where every family has eyes on you," Joran said.

  Tunde quietly registered that Lady Ryka's read of the situation was likely accurate. Every move the elder made seemed shaped in some part by the positioning of the other adepts. He filed the thought away, resolving to revisit it once he had adept rank and could make choices from a position of genuine independence. For now, the elder's cover was worth having.

  "This will be our home for the next five days," Joran said.

  "The duel is held on the sixth at sunrise. We will make it there in time."

  Tunde looked out at nothing for as far as his eyes could track, even with Ethra sight. Burnt yellow sand and bare rock in every direction.

  "Are we sleeping under the sky?" he asked.

  "Why didn't I think of that? Perfect supplementary training," the elder said, as though the idea had genuinely just arrived.

  Tunde offered a quiet prayer to no one in particular.

  "No. I arranged use of a particular structure belonging to the clan, abandoned now, which belonged oddly enough to Lord Alaric when he was still an adept," Joran said.

  "I thought we weren't receiving any clan assistance. Doesn't this count?" Tunde asked.

  "No. Besides, I reserved it weeks ago," the elder replied.

  A few seconds passed.

  "Weeks ago?" Tunde said.

  "Before I was even a disciple?"

  Joran turned to him and offered a quiet, unhurried smile. He stamped one foot. A force technique pushed the sand aside, revealing a square carved rock surface beneath, the crest of Clan Verdan etched into its center.

  "Learn to think far in advance, my student," Joran replied.

  "It will save your life more times than you can count."

  He produced a green crystal from the folds of his robes and touched it to the surface. Jade Ethra lines ran around the crest as the stone let out a low groan and began to open inward, revealing a darkened stairway that descended into what looked like nothing at all.

  "Enjoy the sun," Joran said.

  "It will be the last you see for a long while." And then he walked calmly into the darkness and disappeared.

  He had known Tunde would reach disciple rank.

  That much was certain. But the question of what else the elder had already decided and arranged sat at the edge of Tunde's thoughts without quite taking shape.

  He pushed it aside, looked up at the sky, and let the sun sit on his face for a moment, breathing it in.

  Then he walked down into the dark, his Ethra sight lighting the way, as the stone groaned back into place above him and the sand erased the entrance without a trace.

  *****

  A dilapidated sky vessel crept through the outer borders of the city, its hull cracked and barely holding together, functional only through some feat of its original craftsmanship. Within its belly lay two rankers.

  One had deathly pale skin, dark hair, and black veins tracing patterns across his face and neck. The other was a woman with golden-yellow hair, metallic silver eyes, and light brown skin. Both wore torn robes bearing no faction crest, looking as close to beggars as rankers could manage.

  Their chests rose and fell slowly. The male was the first to speak, his revenant nature plain in his features.

  "We're back within Jade Peak," he said softly.

  The woman nodded and pushed herself to her feet, checking the small construct tucked into the folds of her torn robe. Recently healed gashes still traced their lines across her skin.

  "Get this to Elder Celia and I'm heading to a Rejuvant. Still have a frozen shard inside me the healers need to pull out," she said.

  "I'll stay here," the revenant said easily.

  "Enjoy what's left of my freedom before they throw me into that place."

  The woman nodded as multiple auras locked onto the vessel simultaneously, guiding it down, the city's guard disciples clearly having tracked its progress from the moment its cloaking finally failed.

  "Suit yourself," she said.

  "Might as well find out what happened with Tunde while I'm at it."

  "Either he's alive or he isn't," the revenant said.

  "No two ways about it."

  Elyria glanced at him without speaking as the vessel's ramp descended and disciples moved in through the opening.

  "I doubt he'd die that easily," she said.

  "Not him. Should be interesting to see."

  She produced her hidden badge as a member of House Argent Rose. The lead disciple, a clean-shaven man, stepped forward.

  "Are you referring to the student of Elder Joran?" he asked.

  Behind her, Thorne offered a series of convincingly feeble groans as the disciples moved to shackle him, eyeing him with undisguised wariness, as though the chains might do very little if he decided otherwise.

  They were right to be cautious. Elyria knew they would never see the attack coming, not against an adept. They'd be distributed across the already broken walls of the vessel before they registered the movement.

  "I am," she said.

  "How did the mission go?"

  Even Thorne paused his theater to hear the answer.

  "Tore through the Corespawns from what we've gathered," the disciple said.

  "Rumors say he even brought down a tier 3 Corespawn."

  Elyria turned to Thorne with a quiet, satisfied look. He rolled his eyes. A faint smile crossed his face despite himself.

  "So the kid isn't dead. Big deal," he said.

  Elyria left him to the disciples and walked toward one of the waiting transport vessels, her injuries aching a fraction less than before.

  *****

  The underground cavern opened into a series of large circular rooms connected by narrow corridors, each dimly lit by Ethra crystals that had been dormant for what looked like centuries.

  A small infusion of Ethra from Elder Joran woke the crystals of the first room. Tiny holes bored through the ceiling brought in steady, clean air.

  "Place everything in a corner. You'll need to shed weight for what comes next," Joran said.

  Tunde found a rectangular storage alcove along one wall and loaded it with all his belongings, emptying his void ring as well. He turned back to the elder, who stood in the center of the room.

  The black crystalline walls caught the yellow glow of the crystals and threw it back in dim, shifting shapes.

  Joran produced two pairs of stone cuffs, dark and dense-looking.

  Tunde sighed.

  "Cuffs again?" he asked.

  "Lithrane stones," Joran said.

  "Mined here and shipped to the far sea cities for underwater construction. They grow heavier rapidly when Ethra is channeled into them. Perfect for this purpose." He threw them across.

  "Speed training?" Tunde asked, catching them.

  He clasped two around his wrists and the remaining two around his ankles, straightened, and sighed again.

  "Reflexes, as I said," Joran replied, producing a long staff carved from the same dense stone.

  "Keep channeling Ethra into the cuffs until I tell you to stop."

  Tunde moved to imbue his body as well. Joran stopped him.

  "No imbuement," he said, with a mild smile.

  Tunde stared at the elder.

  "Your body is a gem and you've been wasting it," the elder continued.

  Tunde was fairly certain he had not been. He had done nothing but feed it resources and drive it to its limits since arriving in Jade Peak. He kept the disagreement to himself.

  "I plan to beat your body until it can be properly molded into something far better," Joran finished pleasantly.

  He produced a second stone staff from his void ring and tapped its base against the ground, waiting. Tunde took a breath and began channeling Ethra into the cuffs.

  They grew heavier almost immediately, the weight compounding by the second until he could barely raise his arms and his legs felt bolted to the floor. He used the staff to hold himself upright, breathing in heavy pulls.

  "Ah," the elder said. "That reminds me."

  The click of a collar locking around Tunde's throat came before his brain had finished processing the movement. An electric shock tore through his entire body. He crashed to the ground in full spasm.

  "Your breathing has improved considerably," Joran said from above him.

  "I intend to raise the standard. I told you, Tunde. This will take everything you have. And we're just beginning."

  Tunde dragged himself upright using the staff, one hand pressed against the collar at his throat, forcing his breathing into a controlled rhythm.

  "What now?" he said, his voice rough.

  "Simple," Joran replied, settling his staff. "You defend against my attacks."

  And then he moved.