Elend stepped out of the captain’s chamber and followed his wife down the airship’s pristine white corridor. He’d sworn to leave Creta as soon as possible, and his oath had compelled him to pass that on to Irina when she landed. As a result, they’d barely stuck around for twenty minutes before the ship was airborne again.

  He and Irina passed another open bedroom as they walked, and he glimpsed the three kids spooning on the bed. Actually, no, spooning was the wrong word here. It looked more like a mana storm had hit the silverware drawer.

  Kalden lay stretched out on his stomach with his broken hands nowhere in sight. Akari sprawled halfway on top of him while Relia cuddled up behind her. Everyone still wore the same clothes from the battle, but at least they’d taken their boots and armor off before they’d collapsed.

  Akari and Kalden had both advanced, merging their present minds with their past selves. He’d gotten the short version of the story, and Akari’s dreams were the most interesting by far. Especially the aspect she’d been striving for.

  People had been attempting spacetime mana for decades, but they’d always failed to merge the component aspects. Now, Akari might have a second chance. She’d used a space technique during the battle, but that mana had come from a bottle. Her soul was still a pure canvas, ready to be changed.

  Did that make the trip worth it? He doubted even the Angels could answer that question. Many had died in the battle, and Elend was partially to blame. One mistake at this level—even with the best intentions—and thousands could die.

  The hallway split, and Elend and Irina went their separate ways. She headed toward the cockpit while he stepped into the common area. This was a wide, oval-shaped room with a bar in the middle and several plush sofas surrounding it. Floor-to-ceiling windows dominated one wall, revealing a vast sea of white clouds beyond. A sixty-inch TV hung on the opposite wall, showing the airship’s current location on a digital map.

  Lena Cavaco sat at the bar, sipping some clear beverage, garnished with a lime wedge. Instead of her usual long dress, she’d opted for dark jeans and a sleeveless white top.

  The cultist glanced up as Elend approached. “There you are, Espirian.”

  “Here I am.” He strolled forward and settled onto the cushioned stool beside her. “Sorry for the delay. I missed my wife.”

  She glanced up at his hair, and her lips curled up at the edges. “I can see that.”

  Elend caught a glimpse of himself in the bar’s narrow mirror. His short silver hair stuck out at several random angles as if he’d just rolled out of bed. Bloody hell. He needed to get that cut soon. In the meantime, he ran a hand over his scalp, releasing dream mana from his palm and making himself presentable.

  A year ago, he would have done that without any conscious effort. But Glim was right; all that time in captivity had made him stingy with his mana.

  “You got my note?” Elend asked. A rhetorical question, of course. She wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t read it.

  Lena nodded and refilled her glass with more clear liquor. It looked like agavo, judging by the Cadrian label. Elend considered pouring himself a glass, but agavo always left his stomach burning for hours. He could dull the effect with his aspect, but that defeated the whole point of drinking.

  “His lordship won’t be happy I left,” Lena said as she raised her glass to her lips.

  “Aye,” he began, “but I think—“

  She held up her hand. “You owe me an explanation first. How did you get the cuffs?”

  Elend paused, then formed a sound-proof dome around them. He had no need for secrecy here, but that pesky soul oath wouldn’t let him discuss this without precautions. Lena already knew everything, so she didn’t count.

  “I did no such thing.” He waved at the mirror. “She did.”

  As always, Glim appeared with impeccable timing. However, the effect was slightly ruined as she tried to balance all five crystal cuffs on her head.

  “Lena Cavaco, meet Glimmer Darklight.”

  “Hi!” Glim waved at Lena, causing her five-tiered crown to sway. “I’m his imaginary friend.”

  Lena glanced from the mirror and back to Elend, raising her thin eyebrows in a question. Questioning his sanity, no doubt.

  “For the record,” Elend said. “I was ten when I made—“

  “Twelve,” Glim corrected.

  “ . . . and I’ve been trying to get rid of her ever since.”

  Lena leaned forward. “She’s a mana spirit?”

  “Hard to say. We can’t exactly run tests on the mana spirits of old.“

  “But she can act independently,” Lena guessed. “Using dream techniques of her own?”

  “Yep.” Glim cleared her throat. “She also has two working ears.”

  “Sorry.” Lena snapped her head back to the mirror. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  “No worries.” Glim’s expression turned suddenly cheerful. “I messed with your brain, so we’ll call it even.”

  Elend leaned forward on the bar’s polished wooden surface, sending a burst of mana toward the nearest fridge. The glass door swung open, and he began perusing the bottles. “No hard feelings, I hope.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Lena said. “But I understand your reasoning.”

  Elend rotated the bottles with subtle movements of his mana, reading the labels one by one. Finally, one particular bottle caught his eye. Summer Cloak—A Koreldon pale ale with hints of citrus and hot pepper. The bottle flew into his open hand, and he unscrewed the metal cap. “I suppose he’ll come after you now?”

  “Naturally,” she said.

  “Then let me give you a job. The Dragonlord can’t attack anyone who works for me.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but we both know that won’t stop him.” She eyed the mirror where Glim sat. “It didn’t take you two long to find a loophole.”

  “He blamed you?” Glim asked. Her tone sounded more offended than concerned.

  “I don’t know.” Lena fingered the black dragon pendant at the base of her neck. “I didn’t stick around long enough to find out. But he has powerful friends—people in your own government.”

  “Aye.” Elend took a drink. “I might know a few of them.”

  She mirrored his motion. “I’d be dead within a month if I showed my face in Koreldon.”

  “Your odds are still better with me,” Elend said.

  Lena raised an eyebrow. “And how do you calculate those odds, Espirian?”

  Well, she had him there. “Then where will you go?”

  “Into hiding,” she said. “Set me down in Vaslana, and then we’re even.”

  Elend glanced back at the TV on the wall. They were halfway through Vaslana now, but it would take them several hours before they reached Espiria’s southern border.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “Stick with us, and you’ll have the protection of two Grandmasters.”

  “Vaslana is my home,” she said. “And I know it well. Even if your odds are true, I’d rather have my fate in my own hands.”

  “I suppose I can respect that.” A short pause followed, and Elend took another swallow of his drink. “And afterward?”

  “You tell me. Your note mentioned a need for my services. I assume this involves reshaping your new Etherite?”

  “Good guess,” he said. “But wrong. Have you heard that expression about teaching a man to fish?”

  She furrowed her brow. “I can’t teach you my craft, Espirian.”

  “Not me.” Elend gestured down the hall. “Them.”

  She followed his gaze. “Your students? None of them are Aeons.”

  “Someone’s confident,” Elend said. Then again, her entire craft involved sensing and reshaping Etherite, and an Aeon’s soul was made of Etherite. To her, scanning for crystals would be second nature, the same way mana artists used their Silver Sight.

  “They aren’t Aeons yet,” he said, emphasizing the last word. “I trust you’re familiar with krustoplegia?”

  Lena nodded once.

  “Relia was born with it. She claims it’s because her parents abused soulshine, but I suspect that was a lie. A lie meant to hide an even deeper secret. Her life may depend on reaching her full potential.”

  “Who are her parents?” she asked.

  Elend shook his head. “That’s not my secret to share, but she might tell you if you ask nicely.”

  Lena hummed in consideration. ”And the other two? Do they also come from mysterious bloodlines?“

  “Not like hers,” Elend said. “Only time will show their true potential, but I have high hopes for them both.”

  “You realize the cost if you fail? When I became an Aeon, I stunted my advancement forever.”

  Elend gave a slow nod. “The first time we spoke, you said you wanted to change this world. This is what change looks like. It means doing the impossible. Taking the risks everyone else is afraid to take.”

  Lena drained the rest of her drink, eying Glim as she did so. “You said there were two things.”

  “Aye. I’d like to get in touch with your patrons.”

  She laughed. “You might as well ask to meet an Archangel.” Then her eyes narrowed when she realized he was serious. “What do you want from the Solidors?”

  “On the contrary, it’s what I can do for them. They were in contact with a young couple named Mazren and Emeri Clifton.”

  “Mazren and Emeri Clifton,” Lena tasted the words, then shook her head. “You say those names like I should know them.”

  “You should,” Elend said. “But it’s not your fault. Someone’s been working hard to make the world forget about them.”

  “Then enlighten me, Espirian.”

  “They were training their daughter to be the world’s first spacetime artist—someone who could help them with their problem.”

  “Problem?” she echoed.

  Elend grinned. “If you know the Solidors, then you already know the answer.”

  She gave a slow nod, pivoting her head to face the hallway. “Akari is the Cliftons’ daughter, isn’t she?”

  “Aye, she is.”

  “The girl is weak now. Even if she aspects her mana, it will take years of training to get my patrons’ attention.”

  “She’ll need time,” he agreed. “They all will. But they’re also talented and driven. And they’ll be studying at the world’s best mana arts university.”

  “That might not be enough,” Lena said.

  There was more to it, of course. Akari had been stripped of her power, her memories, and her very identity. Others would have been utterly defeated in her position. Indeed, a quarter-million people had been defeated. Even Akari herself had broken down several times along the way.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  For all that, some piece of her had rejected defeat. Not only had she and Kalden escaped their prison, but they’d reached back through time and reclaimed the identities they’d lost.

  As a teacher, Elend knew that grit was a trait you couldn’t teach, and Akari had more than any student he’d ever trained. But he couldn’t share such dramatic stories with Lena. Not yet, anyway.

  “Akari Zeller doesn’t play by the rules,” he said with a smile. “Trust me on this. If you plan to defy the Angels someday, then you’ll want her on your side.”

  ~~~

  Akari wandered the airship’s fancy white hallways, too anxious to sleep another minute.

  Adrenaline had kept her going all night, but she’d passed out the second her head hit the pillow. She’d always thought that was just an expression, but apparently it was a real thing. She woke six hours later, and the monitor showed them more than halfway through Espiria. All safe and sound, just like Elend had promised.

  She almost couldn’t believe it. When was the last time she’d been safe? Like, really safe? Even before Creta, they’d been fleeing from the Martials. Before that, she’d had the threat of homelessness looming over her, not to mention all the evil Golds she’d pissed off along the way.

  Back then, Gold had seemed like the top of the world. Now, Akari could beat any of the Martials in a fair fight. Not only was she a Gold herself, but she was more than halfway to Apprentice.

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t nearly so impressive in this new world of Artisans, Masters, and Mystics. And Creta was one of the weakest nations in this world?

  Yeah . . . she had some serious catching up to do.

  The airship continued soaring through the clouds, passing miles of farmland and cities below. Elend and Irina hung out in the cockpit with the crew, and Kalden and Relia continued sleeping as the sun moved toward the horizon.

  Akari took a shower while she waited, then she rummaged through the wardrobes for something to wear. The ship’s owner must have had a teenage daughter because the clothes actually fit. She threw her old bloodstained clothing in the trash, leaving her with only two real possessions: her father’s backpack and her mother’s watch.

  Nothing else from her old life had survived her trip to the Archipelago—just these two items. That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

  After she’d dressed, Akari made her way back into the main area—whatever you called that on an airship. The living room? The common room? Probably some fancy term she’d never learned, right up there with ‘port’ and ‘starboard.’

  The bar had an espresso machine, so Akari slipped behind the counter and helped herself to a doubleshot. She’d never used an espresso machine on Arkala, but she vaguely remembered using one in Last Haven.

  A thousand other memories fought for dominance in her head, demanding to be seen. Aside from espresso making, she knew a lot more math and physics than before. If she even thought about spacetime, her mind flooded with memories of relativity, gravity, and pocket dimensions.

  Her parents had made her sit through countless lectures and textbooks, and learn hundreds of equations to prepare for her aspect. She’d always hated that work as a kid, and she’d told her parents as much.

  “I’m gonna be a duelist,” Akari had said one evening. “Not some academic. What’s the point of all this math if I never use it?”

  “You’re learning to speak the language of the universe,” Emeri had countered. “You can’t practice portals like you practice kicks or punches. They’re too complex for that. You can only study—put in the hours—and let your subconscious bring you closer.”

  “Sounds like wishy-washy bull—.” Her mother gave her a look, and she trailed off.

  “If it were easy,” Emeri said, “then everyone would learn it.”

  Akari frowned. “But lots of people learn math. I don’t see them having breakthroughs.”

  Her mother nodded. “Those same people pick an easy aspect in their mid-teens. They never reach their full potential.”

  Her parents had been right in hindsight. For all Kalden’s skill as a duelist, he’d still lost to Zakiel last night. Meanwhile, Akari’s portals had saved them all.

  No . . . her parents had saved her. They’d known dueling wouldn’t be enough. In a way, they’d known her far better than she’d known herself. And how had she repaid them?

  Akari squeezed her coffee cup tighter as she stared out the window. She’d betrayed her family and her sect. She’d been responsible for her mother’s death, and countless others. And for what? To win a stupid duel? To impress people she didn’t even like?

  She’d spent the past few years blaming Golds and Martials, but it was her fault all along. She’d already admitted this out loud, but the idea still seemed too big to face head-on. In that moment, she understood why Kalden had no reaction to his lost hands. Maybe human minds couldn’t deal with too much change at once.

  So Akari focused on the present moment instead. She sipped her coffee and felt the cup’s heat on her fingertips. She sat back in her plush leather armchair and watched Espiria roll by.

  “Hey,” Kalden said as he stepped into the room. He’d also showered, judging by his freshly styled hair. And apparently they did have mens’ clothes on this ship because he wore a navy button-up shirt tucked into a pair of gray pants. The outfit looked a little big on him, but so was hers.

  “Is that coffee?” he asked.

  Akari nodded, setting her own glass down on the wooden end-table. “I’ll make you one if you want.”

  “Oh no.” He held up a hand. “You don’t have to.”

  Akari got to her feet and strolled over to the bar. “We all know you’re useless in the kitchen.” Then she winced as she remembered his missing hand. “Because you grew up with servants, I mean. Not because . . . ” She trailed off before she made it worse.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Kalden said. “Elend’s wife is a doctor. I already asked her about prosthetics.”

  “Yeah?” Akari perked up as she filled the portafilter with ground coffee. “She didn’t seem worried?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing’s better than the original, but knowledge artists can help healers work above their level. They can take your DNA and grow new hands with flesh and blood. It’s not like I’m stuck this way forever.”

  At least he had options. Still, something told her it wouldn’t be that easy.

  Akari handed Kalden his steaming cup, and they walked back toward the window-view seats. She’d hoped they could sit together on the sofa. She wanted to feel his arm around her shoulders—for him to kiss her forehead the way he had before.

  Instead, Kalden dropped into one of the single armchairs, seemingly lost in thought.

  Oh well. He was dealing with stuff, too. Not just his injuries, but a whole rush of memories from his past self. Things would go back to normal soon; they just needed time.

  They made small talk for a few more minutes, then Relia emerged from another hallway. She looked like a weather reporter with her white blouse and dark gray skirt. Maybe she and Kalden had raided the captain’s cabin? Relia must have found a pantry too, because she carried several packages of food in her arms.

  “Whose airship is this?” Akari asked as they ate.

  “Hmm?” Relia finished chewing her protein bar and glanced around. “No idea. Elend and Irina don’t have one, so they probably borrowed it.”

  “The Espirian Navy?” Akari suggested. She’d seen the Master-level cannons as they boarded, so it definitely had enough firepower.

  “I don’t think so,” Kalden said. “The Navy likes more utilitarian designs. Plus these windows are a structural weakness in battle.”

  “The Navy owns the Senate’s personal ships,” Akari replied. “Could be one of those.”

  Kalden shook his head. “The Senators all have Utopian A16s. And I saw a Sanako Corp generator in the engine room. Sanako doesn’t do military contracts.”

  Relia stared at them both for several seconds. “I keep forgetting you guys have your memories back.”

  Akari blinked as she processed the words. That’s right. Yesterday, she and Kalden hadn’t known a thing about modern-day Espiria, much less its military or its corporations.

  “I’m usually the expert,” Relia added. “Now you guys know everything?”

  “You’re still the expert,” Kalden said. “These aren’t like other memories. They only pop up when they’re relevant. Mostly.”

  Relia frowned. “Isn’t that how all memories work?”

  “Yeah.” Kalden furrowed his brow. “Guess it’s harder to explain than I thought.”

  “It’s like sitting down at your computer,” Akari cut in. “You know where all your important files are, right?”

  Relia grinned. “My computer’s a mess, but sure.”

  “You know what’s there,” she clarified. “Doesn’t matter how they’re arranged. You’ve seen them all at least once.”

  “I guess.”

  “Then one day, you need a file you’ve never seen before. Like …” She glanced around the room, looking for inspiration. Her gaze settled on the table, and all the open food wrappers.

  “A cookie recipe,” Kalden answered for her. “Minus the chocolate chips, of course.”

  Relia frowned. “No chocolate?”

  He shook his head. “Akari’s allergic.”

  “Wow. That’s depressing.”

  “More like annoying,” Akari muttered. “People stick it everywhere like it’s some gift from the Angels.”

  “What are your symptoms?” Relia asked.

  “Myopia,” she said with a straight face.

  The other girl blinked in confusion. “Like . . . near-sightedness?”

  Akari nodded. “And stunted growth. And social anxiety.”

  Kalden hid his laugh behind his hand. “She ate way too much chocolate when she was younger.”

  Akari grinned back. Most people didn’t get her sense of humor, but Kalden always did. For a moment, her mind flashed back to simpler times—to the days when they’d first become friends on Arkala. When they could relax and joke without all this drama.

  Kalden’s smile faded a second later, and Akari got back to her analogy. “Anyway . . . you start looking for a recipe, right? You’ve never seen one on your computer. Ever. But once you think of it, you know exactly where it is.”

  “It’s a good comparison,” Kalden said with a slow nod

  “Speak for yourself.” Relia glanced back and forth between them. “These still sound like normal memories to me. Anyone can forget something and remember it later.”

  “What do you have on your computer?” Kalden asked her.

  She shrugged. “I dunno, the usual stuff. Pictures, music, school projects.”

  “No recipes?” Kalden prodded.

  “Nope.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She gave him a frank look.

  Kalden’s lip curled up in a small grin. “Anyone can forget.”

  Relia paused to consider that. “So you’re a hundred percent sure you don’t know something . . .”

  “Then you realize you’ve known it the whole time,” Kalden finished. “It just pops out of nowhere.”

  “Yeah.” Akari moved her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “It’s trippy as hell. And it keeps happening over and over.”

  Kalden nodded in vague agreement, staring down at his broken hands. “We barely survived these past few weeks. Even with a Grandmaster’s help.”

  “Two Grandmasters,” Relia said. “The airship didn’t fly itself down here.”

  “My point exactly. Makes me wonder if Sozen ever stood a chance.”

  “Sozen?” She cocked her head to the side. “He was your brother, right?”

  Kalden nodded again. “Even before I met you, a part of me always believed he was out here—surviving in the outside world. Now, after all we went through . . .”

  He had a point. Their group wouldn’t have lasted long without Elend, and they definitely wouldn’t have regained their memories without him. Kalden’s brother was just a Gold when he left. Probably weaker than she was now.

  “There’s still a chance he made it,” Relia said. “We would have sailed straight to Vaslana if it weren’t for that storm.”

  The Inner Sea had mana storms every single day, but Akari kept that to herself.

  The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, which drove Relia crazy. Apparently, she wanted them both to have mental breakdowns or something.

  “You sure you don’t need to talk?” she asked them for the tenth time.

  “What?” Akari feigned surprise. “That’s allowed?”

  “I’m just saying—it seems like you guys remembered some bad stuff in your dreams. Fighting can be traumatic, too. If it were me—”

  “Please.” Akari snorted. “How long did you keep your condition a secret?”

  Kalden took a meaningful sip of his coffee, then he pointed at Relia with his pinky. “She’s got you there.”

  “Fine.” Relia blew out a breath and slumped back in her chair. “But you guys lectured me about that afterward. And you were right.”

  “Well then,” Kalden said. “Guess we’re all hypocrites sometimes. Fair enough?”

  The airship flew for another hour, then they reached Koreldon City at sunset, dipping through a mist of orange clouds.

  Until now, Tureko had been the biggest city she’d ever seen. But this looked like something out of a movie. Skyscrapers shot up in dense clusters from the streets below, broken up by the rivers that emptied into the Inner Sea.

  Akari squinted for famous landmarks like Garridan’s Clock Tower or Akariel’s Arena, but real life was nothing like a composed picture. The airship just soared over the skyline, oblivious to her efforts.

  “There!” Relia gestured to a set of brick buildings to the north. “That’s Koreldon University.”

  Akari took in the sight with wide-eyed wonder. Some parts of the city looked new and shiny, but this part looked downright ancient with its domed rooftops, stained-glass windows, and twisting stone spires. A web of cobblestone streets ran between them, too narrow for the smallest cars. One building even had crenellations like a castle.

  “What’s that big cylindrical one?” Kalden asked. “The library?”

  “The Artegium’s library,” Relia said.

  “Atee-what?” Akari asked.

  “Artegium,” she repeated. “It’s the College of Mana Arts. We’ll all train there together. Once you guys get accepted, of course.”

  Butterflies danced in her stomach at the thought of studying mana arts at a real university. Akari had spent these past few months practicing and fighting, but that wasn’t the same.

  She wanted to fulfill her parents’ dream and become the world’s first spacetime artist. She wanted them all to reach Master by twenty-one, to save Relia, and the people of Last Haven. To do that, she’d need to dive deeper into mana arts than she’d ever gone before. A university seemed like the perfect place for that.

  The airship continued to a coastal suburb on the city’s northern border. They hovered for several seconds, then set down on a concrete landing pad outside a fancy stone mansion. A man and woman stepped outside to meet them, but Akari couldn’t make out their faces from this vantage.

  Elend and Irina emerged from the cockpit, along with the pilot and the rest of the crew. The ramp opened, and they followed the two Grandmasters outside.

  “Irina.” A man’s voice said when they reached the bottom of the ramp. “I trust my ship served you well?”

  “It did,” she replied smoothly. “We won’t forget this favor, Senator Moonfire.”

  Moonfire?

  Akari snapped her attention forward and saw a red-haired man in a navy suit. She took in his pale, sharp features and confirmed her worst fears. That was Ashur Moonfire—the man from her dream. The man who’d convinced her to betray her sect by revealing their enemy. The man who’d sent that Mystic to erase their memories and destroy their identities.

  A wave of pure panic ran down her spine. Sweat covered her body, and her sense of safety fled like birds from a dragon.

  What if he saw her? Damnit. Why hadn’t she hidden her face? Why hadn’t she warned Elend back on the ship?

  Now it was too late for warnings. Even running wasn’t an option at this point. That would just draw more attention to herself. Besides, this guy had a Mystic on his side. He might even be a Mystic, for all she knew.

  “And who is this with you?” Ashur Moonfire asked in a pleasant tone. His gaze surveyed Kalden as if he’d never seen him before. Akari met his eyes for a split second, but saw no flicker of surprise or recognition.

  “These are my newest students,” Elend said. “Kalden and Akari.”

  The man gave them a polite nod, then turned his gaze back to Irina. Either he was the best liar she’d ever seen, or he’d truly forgotten that fateful day in the diner.

  The adults made their way toward the house, discussing transportation back to the Darklight’s estate. Kalden moved to follow, but Akari stood frozen in place. Relia shuffled down the ramp a few seconds later, looking like a kid on her first day of school.

  “What’s with you?” Kalden asked.

  Relia didn’t reply. She just kept staring at Ashur Moonfire and his wife.

  “You know them?” he pressed

  “Yeah,” Relia muttered. “But not as well as I should.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She swallowed hard as she pulled her eyes from the retreating figures. “Those are my parents.”