I didn’t know who had conceived this world. Some story telling illusionist, apparently, with a fascination for mortals stripped down to nothing but muscle, discipline, and decision-making.
Apparently he saw it in a dream.
In this world there was no Aura to smooth mistakes or reinforce your physicality. No Arcanum to bend outcomes or manifest feats of wonder. There was no restoration or even accerlated healing when you have bad results and you or your team get hurt. In this world you had training, awareness, and the cost of being wrong.
It was ingenious.
Not a world I would ever choose to live in, but it was one that forced clarity in a way magic never had. In that fictional world the weapons and technology wre probably the most important things to consider for a mission. More than any load out or single individual as you couldn’t overpower errors with mana, Expression or will. In this made up world, you had to see them coming, adjust early, and move like every step mattered—because it did.
By the time we finally disengaged from the construct-space, I realized I was tired in a way I hadn’t felt in years. It was the tired of man that trained for and learned something important.
I also realize that i was physically good. Better than good actually. Whoever designed the facility had woven advanced Sanatio Expressions into the structure itself. We had been inside a Technica Arcanum projection for nearly an entire day, and instead of feeling hollowed out, I felt focused. Centered. My mind was sharp in that quiet, settled way that usually took days of careful mediation to achieve.
“Well,” Rade said, stretching his arms overhead with a groan that suggested the magic had done its job but his body still remembered the effort. “We should probably get going.”
He glanced at his interface, then winced. “We’ve got to get back to school. I’ve got a test on Midcrest.”
I checked my own timepiece. “You have exactly four hours to study.”
He laughed weakly. “Yeah. One of those days.”
“Don’t worry,” he added, more to himself than anyone else. “I never thought my aptitude was going to be academic progression anyway.”
Darren snorted. “That just means you’re an idiot.”
Rade didn’t even look at him. “Considering I have significantly better grades than you, I’d say that makes you the idiot.”
“Yes,” Darren replied cheerfully, “but I’m handsome, so it evens out.”
Rade and Mikel scoffed in unison.
“Cale is about a million times more handsome than you,” Rade said flatly.
I stopped walking.
“Really?” I asked before I could stop myself.
All three of them turned and stared at me like I’d just sprouted a second head.
Darren blinked. “Have you… have you ever looked in a mirror?”
“I swear,” Rade said, shaking his head, “it’s always the ones who have no idea what’s going on.”
Darren leaned back dramatically. “If I had a face like yours, I’d never work another day in my life. I’d find a rich princess from some smaller country and become her boy toy. I’d spend my days by the pool while beautiful attendants brought me fruit and roasted meats until I physically couldn’t move.”
“That’s how you get stabbed,” Rade said calmly. “By someone emotionally unstable who discovers you flirting with the staff.”
Mikel shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the worst way to go.”
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I rolled my eyes. “This conversation has officially become stupid. I’m heading back.”
They called after me, laughing, offering exaggerated goodbyes. I waved once and kept walking.
Halfway down the street, I checked my data interface and realized just how long I’d been gone.
I hadn’t messaged Gran.
I hadn’t messaged Ellara.
The interface lit up with notifications—missed calls, messages, escalating concern. I felt a sharp twist of guilt and opened a channel immediately.
Ellara answered first. We spoke briefly. She was fine, clearly annoyed and worried, but ultimately relieved. Then I contacted Gran.
Me: I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear. We ended up running scenarios far longer than planned.
Her response came almost instantly.
Gran: Oh, good lord. I thought something had happened to you. Cale Arcanus, you never scare me like that again. If you disappear without telling me where you’re going, I will take you over my knee. I don't care that you're eighteen and technically an adult.
A second message popped up—photos from Ellara. She was laughing so hard she could barely hold the interface steady.
I sent one final reply.
Me: Understood. I’m on my way home.
I engaged Aura carefully, layering a steady reinforcement pattern that would support my movement without flaring. I added Arcanum—fire and lightning together—using the same balanced configuration I’d refined over years. The combination settled smoothly, ready to translate intent into speed.
I was just about to move when my interface lit up again.
A name I hadn’t seen in a while.
Aiden Vanta.
I paused, then accepted the transpondence.
“Captain,” I said quietly.
His projection resolved into focus, composed as ever, eyes sharp with that familiar mix of concern and calculation.
“Cale,” he said, a faint smile touching his mouth. “I hear you’ve been making waves down at the Academy.”
I exhaled once, slow and shook my head.
“Why, Knight-Captain Vanta,” I said lightly, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s absurd to think I’d do something so outrageous.”
Aiden rolled his eyes on the other end of the projection, though the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
“Sure,” he said. “Completely unbelievable because you're not one of the most dangerous Arcane Artists in the world with complete lack of patience for fools. That isn't you at all.”
"See I am glad we understand each other."
He gave me a brotherly grin but then the smile faded. His posture straightened, and the shift was immediate enough that I stopped walking.
“Are you somewhere you can talk?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes. “I can be. Is there a problem?”
“Yes,” he said. “A significant one.”
That got my full attention.
“How do you feel,” he continued, “about coming out of retirement for a short period?”
I didn’t answer immediately.
“Let me get somewhere private,” I said at last. “I’ll take the briefing. Call me back in ten.”
I ended the connection before he could argue, slid the device into my back pocket, and exhaled slowly.
Then I moved.
I re-layered my Aura first, settling into a stable reinforcement pattern that would support speed and balance without flaring too brightly I converted a chuck of it to Kinetica and placed it at strategic points on my body. Arcanum followed—fire and lightning, carefully interwoven, tuned for movement rather than impact my actual go to configuration when I am not fighting and I need speed. Finally, I added a thin veil of Illusia, not enough to render me invisible, but enough to encourage disinterest. A suggestion rather than a command.
The combination was expensive. Two different Expressions branches active at once—five functional layers, really, even if two shared the same branch—was pushing the edge of efficiency, even for me. I felt the drain immediately, a steady pull at the back of my thoughts. Manageable, but not something I could maintain indefinitely.
I took off.
The city blurred around me as I cut through side streets and service lanes, keeping low and fast, watching for patrol routes and sensor arrays. Technica in the capital had advanced since I’d last spent real time here. Detection grids were tighter, smarter. Mana relays captured and converted ambient flow with unnerving efficiency, reducing the need for localized crystals in most districts.
Out in the Wastes, a single intact mana crystal could mean the difference between life and death. Here, it was infrastructure.
I avoided the main avenues and angled toward a cluster of older stone office buildings not far from home. The structures were old enough that their wards had been layered, patched, and re-patched over decades. Useful places to disappear.
I scaled the nearest one in a handful of seconds, boots finding seams and ledges without conscious thought. A few people glanced up as something passed overhead, but Illusia nudged their attention elsewhere before curiosity could take hold.
At the rooftop, I cut my momentum and dropped into a crouch.
First, I dismissed the movement-focused Expressions, letting Aura and Elementa unwind in careful sequence. The sudden quiet in my senses felt sharp after the rush. Then, as a precaution, I laid down a compact Null-flare Arcanum, low radius, tuned to disrupt passive observation and recording rather than active intrusion.
Nothing flashy. Nothing that would draw notice.
Satisfied, I pulled out the communication device and reopened the channel.
Aiden answered immediately.
“All right,” I said, straightening and allowing myself a faint smile. “Knight-Captain Vanta. How can the Ghost of the Wastes help you today?”
The humor didn’t reach my eyes.
Whatever this was, it was serious enough that he’d broken protocol. And that meant someone, somewhere, had already crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.
I waited for him to speak.
Chapter Notes
So this type of world building I hate because if you aren't careful it takes you out of the story. They have a "Monday" really?? But you also don't want burden you with exposition. So we are doing this way.
Say hello to the 7 day calendar of the Dominion of Vera and the Upper Tier/Plane worlds.
The Dominion Week
Instruction Days (4 days)
- Dawnreach
Opening day of instruction
– Syllabi, planning, new assignments
– Often lighter in workload, heavier in orientation
– “Classes resume at first light on Dawnreach.” - Stonefall
The heavy academic day
– Long lectures, core theory, endurance classes
– Most written exams scheduled here
– Students dread Stonefall without quite knowing why - Midcrest
Evaluation and pressure point
– Practical tests, duels, assessments
– Often when things go wrong in stories
– “If you’re going to fail, it happens on Midcrest.” - Brightwake
Applied learning day
– Labs, combat instruction, fieldwork
– Shorter than Stonefall, more dangerous
– Injuries spike on Brightwake across academies
Non-Instruction Days (3 days)
- Gildrest
Administrative & civic day
– Assemblies, announcements, guest lectures
– Optional tutoring, remediation, and hearings
– Arclight often dismisses early or runs limited schedules - Evenshade
Social and mercantile day
– Markets, guild work, tournaments, dates
– Students allowed off-campus more freely
– Many incidents begin on Evenshade - Deepstill
True rest day
– No classes, minimal commerce
– Wards reinforced, travel discouraged
– Considered ill-omened to start new ventures