The summoning circle glowed a dark crimson shade as Elara finished reciting the incantation. As the last syllable left her lips, a flicker of wrongness appeared in the center. It was small, barely perceptible, even to her, but through it a tiny four-legged creature squeezed its body, until a discordant pop rang out, and the portal closed. The demon, barely so, tried to take in its surroundings, but the light in the room was like nothing it had ever experienced before, and so all it could do was stare off into the nothingness that it was perceiving. Before it could get its bearings, Elara darted forward and with a mud-gloved hand, grabbed the braxisal.

  It shrieked like a rat, if rats were bred in the cesspool of Azmordan, and Elara tossed it in the tank with the others. She warded the collection she had assembled with a few quick sounds, before quickly retreating out of the south wing’s foyer.

  “Is your unpleasant business finished?” asked Thea, who held out a hot towel that Elara wrapped around the swamp mud.

  “Yes,” she said. “I think that will be enough sustenance for my mother, unless she is planning on making her stay a more permanent arrangement.”

  “That’s probably not a good idea. The Academy will easily detect her presence after that long, even if she is in disguise,” said Thea, as the two of them walked back into the main section of the manse. It was barely daybreak, as the boundaries between realms was always weakest at night, and Elara considered walking up to the roof to view the sunrise.

  “Perhaps,” said Elara. “But I am not sure their instruments are refined enough to detect the slight rise over my own baseline, assuming my mother is not going to arrive in her full demonic glory. They have never even queried about my own activities, despite their near-obsession with what I possess and who I am.”

  Although Elara dedicated most of her magickal study to the Disciplines and the Abstracts, she reserved a fraction of her time to practice her own innate magick. That had been a much slower process, both because of the lack of reliable documentation and because of the aforementioned detection risk. At one point a few decades ago, Elara had traveled to the Gynthian plains, far away from any humans, and spent a sojourn fully embracing her demon roots. She did not like to dwell on that experience, although she did learn much from it.

  “Does not that worry you? They could be playing dumb.”

  “It does, to an extent. Although I have found that many are that dumb. The same patterns always emerge in every generation, although occasionally there are exceptions.”

  “Such as the Magister’s nephew,” said Thea, which caused Elara to raise an eyebrow.

  “How do you know that?”

  Alack Bakal was well known in the City as its most eligible bachelor. What was less known was his proclivity toward forbidden magicks. Elara been keeping watch from afar, but she was surprised that Thea also had picked up on it.

  “If I told you, then I would have to seal your demon soul away,” said the automaton.

  “What?”

  “A joke. I’d read about a different version of it, but it doesn’t suit your nature. Evidently my delivery was not on point.”

  “No,” said Elara, chuckling at her friend’s serious attempt at humor. “It’s just I wasn’t expecting that. You are full of surprises.”

  “I will take the compliment,” said Thea, her mouth forming into what could almost be called a smile. “And to answer your question, I have been analyzing his household’s garbage for several months now.”

  “That’s .... not the answer I was expecting. But I commend you for your unorthodox methods. We should both keep an eye on him.”

  “I agree. Now, should we ascend to the roof to watch the first light reflect off of the Guardian Tower?”

  “It’s like you read my mind,” said Elara. “And I believe your power circuits need a charge anyway.”

  The pair walked up the narrow spiral staircase that led out onto a relatively flat section of the manse’s roof. This has been purpose-built by Elara several decades into her residence here (when she was the equivalent of an eight-year old) more as a test of her carpentry skills. But over time it had become one of her favorite spots in the entire City. On one side, she could peer down to the lower Tiers, although much of the view was blocked by rock outcroppings. But on the other side, she could see the Tower, which stood on its own out in the rough waters of the Nidorian Sea. Its beacon helped ships navigate the currents in the treacherous Terrali Straight and down to Porrezan, something that the southern City paid Guardial handsomely for.

  This morning, though, the Tower’s light was dim, the bright sun serving as an adequate substitute. Elara let out a low whistle and held out her wrist, in which she held an oversized pastry (an actual proper one from Gustavson’s). A few moments later, a giant hawke landed with a screeching thud on the roof, nearly colliding with the pair.

  “Good morning, Kazudor,” clicked Elara in the bird’s native tongue.

  Kazudor ignored her for a moment while he devoured the treat. After not a crumb was left, he finally answered

  “And good morrow to you, Lady Demon.”

  His words were direct, as birds tended to be. Mammals, Elara found, were much more subtle in their communication.

  “May I fly with you? It has been a while since I felt the splash of the cold waves.”

  The bird nodded his head, and Elara held up her right hand while she formed the words on her tongue. Once assembled, she pursed her lips, unleashing the spell. She felt her body jolt forward, but really it was her consciousness being pulled back into Kazudor’s mind, as she had done many times before.

  When her eyes blinked open again, she was staring out of Kazudor’s beady irises at her own body, which was still frozen in the same pose.

  “I’ll stand guard until you return,” clicked Thea, who had quickly learned the fowl language after the first roof outing she had attended.

  Elara nodded her host’s head slowly and stretched out the hawke’s mighty wings, before tucking them back to her sides and taking off in a sprint. She dove the bird off the roof and let the wind hit her feathers, her beak smiling as much as a hawke’s beak could. With the water rising up to meet them, she finally extended her feathers out to glide along the surface. After dodging the gentle waves of the surface for a moment, Elara spotted a school of silvery fish swimming lazily a few feet down. She flapped her mighty wings to ascend yet again, and then plunged down once more into the cold ocean water, grabbing a large bass with her talons.

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  Satisfied with her bit of fun and not wanting to eat the spoils herself, Elara rode the updrafts that crashed into the great cliffs, until she could see her manse once more. She deposited her prey next to her body, before nuzzling her beak against her own hand, severing the linkage. She drew in a deep breath through her own mouth and looked down with a smile at her friend.

  “Thank you for a lovely morning,” she clicked to Kazudor. “Enjoy the spoils I have left you.”

  “You are most welcome. I hope our time together relieved some of your harada.”

  “That phrase I don’t recognize.”

  “There is no good human word for it. Roughly it means, ‘a feeling of impending doom.’”

  “Oh,” said Elara.

  “I think he means our upcoming visitor,” said Thea helpfully, and Elara wished in that moment that she had programmed her friend to be less direct in her communication.

  “Yes, Thea. I gathered as much. We will take our leave, then. Until next time.”

  She took one step toward the roof hatch before her knees buckled, a side effect of abandoning her body for the short spell, but fortunately, Thea was at her side immediately to steady her. After a tenuous descent all the way back down to the kitchen, Elara sat herself on the cushioned bench that looked out onto the garden.

  She had worked up a bit of a sweat, despite the exertion only existing in her mind. Thea handed her a goblet of cool water pumped up from the cistern in the basement, and Elara downed the liquid in one gulp, but it did not quench her thirst. Only one thing would.

  “I think I need some real exercise today. A trip to the Proving Grounds is definitely in order.”

  During the Second Founding, the nobles of the City had decided that one of the reasons they had been so easily defeated by Elara’s mother during the Catastrophe was because they had neglected their studies of the Disciplines. Had they a battalion of magick calvary at their command, then perhaps the Army of the Rift would have stood a better chance. And so, in this new age, the City constructed a large training arena built into the cliffs on the Second Tier, in which all practitioners of magick, no matter their station, could come and hone their skills.

  Elara was not so stupid to believe that the reason for humanity’s fall was a lack of preparation or power, or that this new initiative would allow the newly christened Army of the Rift to fare better if they ever faced Lyra again. But she was happy to make use of the Proving Grounds for her own education and development over the decades.

  The entry gate swung open as Elara held her right palm up, a required proof that one had to offer before being admitted. The Academy for many reasons did not want unaccompanied un-magicked to peek inside. That didn’t stop Elara from bringing in her masked companion, who, if asked, would explain that they were a Votary from Calaniera, the Great City perched on an island off of the Continent’s western coast. It was a convenient tradition that the Votaries were required by their Anima to always hide their true face except in the exclusive company of other zealots, and so this allowed Elara to bring Thea out into the city on rare occasions without drawing too many looks.

  Just beyond the gate was a patch of bare earth followed by a 10-foot gap. On the other side were three archways. If one wanted to, they could circumnavigate the gap by walking along a narrow ledge along the left side of the chasm. This was the path for new initiates, who did not yet have the magickal means to traverse the expanse. But Elara had never been in that position, even when she had been a runt in the care of the Night Sisters.

  Elara knelt down on the ground, pressing her palms into the dust, and a few moments later, a piece of earth extended outward, providing a makeshift bridge over the gap. She and Thea walked along it, careful not to fall over and plunge into the abyss (although in reality there was a small pond at the bottom that would break your fall and hopefully not your legs). Upon reaching the far side, Elara flicked her wrist in the air, and the path collapsed.

  “I rather prefer the waterspout,” said Thea, as they headed to the far right archway. “It seems every time you use the earth, you decide to use less and less.”

  “True,” said Elara. “But why waste precious mana when there is no need to?”

  “This is where I would laugh if I could,” said Thea. “We both know the amount of mana in your fingernail is more than almost every human in this City.”

  “Shush,” said Elara. “Even if that were true, there is nothing to be gained by showing off, as it were.”

  She pushed open the wooden door under the archway, which was set into the cliffs, and stepped inside. Lamps flickered far above her in the giant chamber, although they only provided a modicum amount of illumination. It was expected that the users of this section of the Proving Grounds provide their own light, if they could or if they wanted to. Elara did not feel like fighting in the dark, and so she cast a simple glow spell, and sent the collected mass of ethereal fireflies up toward the roof of the chamber.

  The darkness gave way, replaced by the flickering twilight she had created, revealing the rows of stone benches that ringed around the dirt-strewn arena. For this third section of the Proving Grounds was for combat. As Elara had not brought a sparring partner, she would need to purchase one of the captured monsters to battle.

  At the back of the arena was a large metal gate, next to which was a chain that stretched up into the wall. Elara pulled the metal cord and moments later, a section of cinder blocks vanished, revealing a small greenish figure that was perched behind a counter.

  “Hullo!” said the frogle. Frogles mostly lived in the northern swamps, but had migrated south after the Catastrophe, and now called the outer swamp where Elara had spent the last several nights home. “Ah, Ms. Half-Demon, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I’m feeling a bit rusty, Glinn. Are there any ice wyrms in stock?”

  ‘”Fraid not, milady. One of the magicknights killed the last one a fortnight ago. Was a great spectacle. The arena was packed. Too bad about his left arm though.”

  “What happened to his left arm?” she asked.

  “Frozen and then shattered. Terrible. I think he was right-strong, but still.”

  “I see,” said Elara. “I’d like a moderate challenge. What do you have that’s suitable?”

  “Physical or magickal battle?”

  Elara considered the question for a moment before the answer came to her.

  “Hybrid.”

  “You like to keep it interesting. Now, let me see, let me see. Ah!”

  The frogle dragged his finger down a list of the Grounds’ inventory until his webbed finger landed on a series of splotches.

  “Fancy your luck against a spider yokai?”

  “I don’t think-”

  “A giant spider yokai? Recent acquisition!”

  As a rule, Elara preferred not to fight the descendants of her realm. Too much uncertainty with after-effects if she should be injured or poisoned or tainted by yokai blood. But she was curious how her reflexes would fair against the web projectiles, especially given her recent training.

  “I accept.”

  “Excellent! That will be three gilver. I’ll just add it to your account, if that’s OK with you.”

  Elara nodded and almost asked how much she had spent here recently, but thought better of it. Right now, she wanted to focus on the battle.

  “Perfect. You know the drill. Go wait in the center while I get everything ready. Meanwhile, your companion here can watch from the usual spot.”

  The frogle disappeared from his perch, while the duo did as instructed. Elara kicked up the dirt as she walked, her thoughts drifting back to her last battle here. The sandwrym had been a particularly difficult foe, preferring to hide beneath the surface and strike from behind, rather than facing her head on. Still, she had bested the creature in only three hours. Today’s encounter hopefully would not take that long.

  After what seemed like forever, the large metal gate finally creaked open slowly, as if Glinn was trying to make a spectacle of it, despite the nearly empty arena. The darkness beyond was broken by eight shining red orbs, and Elara braced herself for the beast to emerge. Which it did, in a peculiar way. The yokai stepped forward into the circle, its eight legs trying to find purchase on the ground, as if it was just learning how to walk. Whatever expression could be gleaned from its face was one of confusion and perhaps fear. And as it swiveled its head around and around, Elara could sense that something was amiss.

  “Protio!” she shouted. The clumps of earth around the yokai shot up as she raised her right hand into the air, before forming them into threads that wrapped themselves around the spider’s limbs. Elara worked her fingers back and forth, like a weaver at a loom, manipulating the silt with her channeled mana. If this were a regular giant spider yokai (and she didn’t want to think about how many of them were out there), then it would easily shatter the chains. But her hunch was soon provided correct, as the creature struggled before toppling to the ground, its legs kicking helplessly into the air.

  She approached the fallen yokai cautiously, a sharper binding spell on the tip of her tongue if necessary. But all it took was the simple touch of her skin on the creature’s brow for the transformation to start reversing itself. A few moments later, the giant spider was gone, and in its place, covered and caked in mud, was a young girl, with a burning sigil on her forehead. Suddenly, the girl’s eyes shot open, and Elara gasped at their glowing whiteness.

  “Miss Elara,” said the girl, softly. “Your mother will be here soon.”

  That was unexpected!

  Stay tuned for the next installment, as 2 of our POV characters meet!