Puddles began to freeze over near the curbside, refracting the dim moonlight able to seam through the trellis woven above Rubble Arena's entrance. Ensnared by ivy vines, the blossoms wrapped around the wooden beams bloomed and stretched out as they awoke in the evening breeze.
The arcane petals bathed Val in soft light, sitting on one of the benches lining the lane to the entrance. Caro sat on the bench opposite her, gaze on the line of colour following the last coach buses emptying the stadium's forecourt, the red of the backlights dimming as they disappeared down the next curve.
She crossed her arms as a sharp exhale left her in a rush, a mist of frozen moisture fogging her face. "Are you absolutely sure a conductor said to wait for Corporal Wren?"
'Here we go again.' Val refrained from smiling. "Yep."
"To remain outside as a corporal three hours away by the fastest train is to commute to where we are, to finish our awakening."
"Yep."
"Despite how ridiculous this all sounds."
"Yup."
"Even when any other person could just lead us to one of those manifestation orbs."
"For the last time Caro, yes," Val answered, though it was too late for that to happen anyways. While light spilled out of the arena's closed doors, everyone inside already vacated the premises. Overseers, conductors, participants—they all readied themself as soon as the closing ceremony ended, more interested in going out after ten days spent within the trials, than in.
Caro sucked her teeth. "I'd rather listen to Miss Peppers rant on end than wait with literally nothing to do."
"Well then…" Val squinted at two streamlined anti-grav cars hovering into the arena's pavement square, parking right in front of the entrance both she and Caro huddled in. "You're in luck."
The sleek doors swirled open and Corporal Wren stepped out, grinning.
It had been a long week, but Val was certain the lady wasn't the type to smile, not to talk of showcasing her bright teeth. She flourished a hand towards both dark-coloured vehicles, gesturing for them to enter each on their lonesome. "After you, ladies."
Caro stifled a squeal and power-walked over, the joy of riding the modern creation practically exuding from her.
Following her lead, Val crouched into the back of the car. She couldn't help the whistle of awe that escaped her. Silky seats, air conditioning, generous amounts of space—these were regular aspects of a car, even if it was a tad bit luxurious.
Nothing compared to the view.
When she glanced out the window, she was met with an idyllic landscape, like something out of a movie. From the image alone, it seemed like they were cruising on the Alfine mountains, clouds sweeping by them as lands of greens extended beyond the horizon.
"—to go Miss Efron? Miss Efron, are we good to go?"
"Oh, y-yeah." Val gave an awkward thumbs-up. "All good."
"Great!" Corporal Wren ignited the car with a touch in the middle of the dashboard and Val's stomach lurched as the car rose. A holographic image of a 3D map spun around and gave the panes a cyan tilt, stilling at the corporal's touch.
As cool as the windows were, the sensation of being airborne combined with the illusion of flying across the sky was too much for Val. 'I think I'm gonna throw up.'
Rushing to roll it down, Val discovered she couldn't. It was locked.
"Corporal," she barely got out. "Corporal Wren, could you roll down the windows, please."
"I'm 'fraid I can't."
What? Val wanted to say, but her throat didn't cooperate. Her body slouched to the left, towards the ever-shifting windows as sudden tiredness overwhelmed her. Eyelids falling against her will, the last thing she witnessed was Corporal Wren's face melting off to reveal another.
She smiled as she caught Val's gaze through the front mirrors. Her distorted voice reached Val just before she fell into the abyss that was unconsciousness.
"Sleep tight."
...
Disinfectant.
The antiseptic smell was a friend of Val's, something she could pick up in milliseconds. Not due to her visits to Mom—no, Restore Health spent far too much to ensure no such inconvenience befell its patrons. It was more so because of the trips to the school nurse for the unkind gestures classmates gave her throughout the years, for one reason or the other.
Perhaps that was why the sharp scent was the first thing she could perceive as she came to, the sterile, windowless room second as the bleary haze encasing her gaze wore off.
Groaning as every muscle within her awoke, she pushed off the third thing she became aware of—a dentist-like chair in the rare colour of grey.
Then, it hit her. 'I need to escape.' Sitting up straight, she found her time was already up, the din footfalls seeping through the room's boundaries.
With a whoosh one of the glossy walls slid open and a pair walked in. The first rolled in a cart with a metallic briefcase on top and the other was a person she recognized.
Fiona Rhodes ambled in, a tablet in hand, dressed in her formal uniform. Stars and medals hung on her dark coat, accented by red at the shoulders and a line of white on her trousers. She smiled. "Been a while since the New Year's dinner, but I don't believe I introduced myself officially. I'm Captain Rhodes, but you can call me Fiona.
"This is Master Winsford, a deft hand in enchanting," she introduced the aged man standing beside her. He was an Auricean, his tidied hair bone-white as time took its toll. While he held a feeble frame—bones sticking out through his collared shirt, sweater, and slacks combo—his stature was ramrod-straight in strength.
Val blinked at the oddness that was this meeting. "And I'm Valory?"
His brow furrowed, worried at her tone. "Do you still feel delirious?"
"No, just very, very confused right now."
"Understandable." Captain Rhodes cleared her throat. "What needs to be cleared before we can proceed?"
"I honestly couldn't tell you," Val admitted. "The mind trap of the second trial, the pond in Thunderstone, the way I arrived here—my mind and body have been tweaked so many times I find it hard to believe this right now isn't some elaborate, fake fever dream of my own making."
Almost surprised at her answer, Fiona gave her an appraising look. "Sorry about this in advance."
The world around mattered little as the Captain glanced at her, the purity in her eyes encasing Val.
It felt like the Captain saw through her, each plane of her body as visible as a clear sky, and within seconds, Val believed she was back inside Caro's room, surveyed by the unknown woman who slipped past important information.
Captain Rhodes snapped and Val flinched. "Still think this is a hoax?"
"No." She gave her shoulders a jolt. "No, you're definitely her. Captain Rhodes, I mean."
"Fiona. You can call me Fiona," she replied and Val smiled. "As invasive as those measures were, it was done with the right intentions. You didn't see anything you weren't supposed to on the ride here. It assures us that if there's been a breach on our data or a leak of any kind—"
"Then I'm not the tap," Val inferred. " I get it. Kind of."
"Your case is exceedingly rare, Miss Efron." Master Winsford spoke, looking as if he was holding back a sigh or two. "Exceedingly. I know that does little to calm you and little to assure you, rightfully so."
Fiona patted her shoulder. "Just realize that your ability to recognize that anything—including your perceptions of reality—can be altered is why you're here right now. At the end of the day, that is the vast majority of magic."
Master Winsford tapped the briefcase. "This right here is your means of awakening and your Aether Artifact, should you accept our terms."
Val's eyes flickered to Fiona's, who gave her a reassuring smile. "If you decline, you still become a mage, so don't worry."
"I don't know…" she clenched her fists. She knew what they were offering was, evidently by Caro's research, an extraordinary boon. A device that could quite possibly mitigate the disparity between her ASC and her PAST.
Yet there were hundreds of thousands of better candidates. She could name thirty she met in the past ten days alone, twice her amount in talent.
With that realization, she shook her head and rose. "Give it to someone else, someone who deserves it."
Fiona's eyes narrowed. "You aren't a charity case. Those who allowed you this opportunity are not people who'd entertain such a notion."
"I—."
"I don't know what you went through being a borderline-typic, unaccepted by all sides," she said. "All I know is that doubt you hold will swallow you whole if you don't keep it in check."
"Doubt is the opposite of conviction," Winsford added, "and conviction conceives willpower. We aren't coercing you, we merely want you to rethink and ensure your choice isn't one followed by regret."
Val didn't want to make the decision—couldn't make the decision.