The next morning dawns cold but bright, though I know from the red sun the day will get hot. Clear skies are deceiving; storms will sweep through midday, most likely. I don’t fancy marching through the rain, but at least it will cut through the mugginess.

  For now, the chill in the air is invigorating, and as I breathe in deeply through my nose, I find myself smiling. Putting a fresh crew through their paces puts a spring in my step as I trace the familiar path from my home to the academy.

  Not even the armloads of books Ezio sent home with me, along with a regimented training plan, puts a damper on my enthusiasm. I might not be half the scholar Melina is, but I’ve come to enjoy learning. Reading will take a while, but I’ll improve my mana purification and pacification techniques for the next time I encounter a Rift.

  A thought brings me up short. Maybe if I use my golems to scry the books, then I can project the instructions on glass mirrors any time I need to reference the details.

  If only I had a simple way to sort all the details. Stupid [Scholars] and [Researchers] getting all the best knowledge Skills. Grumbling about the intrinsic lack of fairness in life, I plod onward, wondering if there’s a way to mimic an analysis and searching Skill with a runic array. Something to look into in the future.

  As instructed, Tueira is waiting for me in the grand brick-lined square in front of the SCA when I show up. Both of my teams are present, eyeing each other awkwardly. They’re standing in loose formation on either side of the stone walkway, which is engraved with various scholarly slogans and lofty axioms.

  Trampling them underfoot each day must be cathartic for some students, I muse.

  “You look like you’re about to start slinging spells at each other in a battle for academic superiority,” I call out, laughing. “Don’t be shy, now. Most of you know each other already.”

  “Why is a little girl with us?” Trevour asks, pointing at Teuria. “Is she really coming with us into a Rift?”

  “Ah, an accomplished delver now after your inaugural run! Able to assess your team’s strengths and weaknesses with but a glance?”

  Klaarson nudges his team leader in the ribs, and the young man blushes. “No. Sorry. I guess I’m just surprised to see a kid here.”

  “You should learn how to assess people. It’s a useful skill. But I’m not mocking you, Trevour. Well, only lightly mocking,” I amend.

  “I just want to remind you that it’s a big world out there. Talents come in all shapes and sizes—and ages. Teuria might have the strongest combat spells of anyone here, and that includes Avelina.”

  My soon-to-be-sister-in-law scowls playfully. “Hey! Don’t even think about short changing me. My fire is hotter than ever.”

  “Yeah, but Teuria can fling lightning from her fingertips. Pretty sure that makes her about ten times as awesome as the rest of us.”

  “Ooh, can I see?” Marta asks, looking at the blue-eyed, white-haired young [Mage] with renewed interest.

  “Not here,” I quickly interject, holding up my hand. “Plenty of time for that when you’re ready for our first combined team delve. But first things first. It’s time to get to know each other and see what you’re made of.”

  “Introductions?” Teuira asks brightly.

  An eerie, oppressive presence is the only warning they get before Ember sprints into view, flashing over to us at full speed. Her signature black halo crackles around her head as [Devour] thrums with power just begging to be unleashed, and she grins like a hungry lion staring down a flock of tender lambs.

  “No, physical fitness.”

  I chuckle watching their reactions. I’m a little envious of how awesome her dramatic entry was; I’ll have to up my game next time I’m interested in making an impression.

  “Doesn’t seem so bad,” Trevour says.

  “Oh, now you’ve done,” Avelina wails. She turns to me with a panicked look in her eyes. “Nuri, quick, save us!”

  “There’s nothing I can do. I’m afraid our pleasant vacation is over,” I say sadly.

  The next second I yelp and dodge a firebolt thrown my way as Avelina shakes a fist at me. She winks when the newbies can’t see, and I snort out a laugh at her cheekiness.

  I was only half joking about physical fitness training being the perfect method for the teams to get to know each other. They’re not ready to empower their limbs with mana, not yet, but that doesn’t mean Ember will take it easy on them.

  Ember draws up to her full height and barks out commands. “In the forest a mile outside the city walls, you’ll find a row of trees I cut down for you. Can’t miss them; they’ve got your names carved right into the sides of the trunks. Last one to pick up a log runs double laps when we return.”

  Mikko sprints toward the woods before she even finishes speaking, with the Linas right on his heels. Our new friends stare at each other in confusion for a moment before they take their cue from the original crew and run after them. No one wants to be last.

  We run as hard as we can, sweating and shaking with the strain. Pushing yourself to the maximum, and then shattering right through your previous limit, tends to build camaraderie and trust like nothing else. We each still want to win though.

  If they want to delve, they’ll need to grow strong, and that means pushing as hard as they can. They’re paying for power with the currency of pain, and Ember’s coffers are endless.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Of course, I’m right there with them as we run through the woods with logs over our shoulders. Dragging heavy weights behind me without my Domain to carry them with magic, I leave long furrows in the ground. That’s not to say my magic is idle, though. Each of my Skills bundles is working overtime, laying down glass in the grooves I carve behind me and adapting [Sanctuary] to a non-traditional structure instead of creating a building.

  I’m imbuing the glass with concepts as I go, and drawing on [Glass Animation] to bond with the resulting super-structure, but I’ll run out of mana long before the working is complete.

  Ezio’s idea, one of many. He kept me up late the previous night, caught up in the excitement of new ideas I could try. I should have known that wily [Scholar] would come up with new way to torture me!

  Perhaps my favorite of the theories the brilliant instructor suggested came after seeing me recreate the pattern of authority. He stared, fascinated by the flowing streams of molten glass levitated by the influence of my [Arcane Domain], and immediately asked how large I could make the pattern.

  Mana drains out of me at a terrifying rate. I’m already shaky, unable to empower my body while also flaring my mana manipulation and Skill bundles at full blast. He wants me to inscribe a series of runic fractals large enough to surround the Silaraon City Academy to see if we can use it as an anchor point for my Domain even if I’m traveling far away from the city.

  The idea is amazing, but the execution—

  I trip, cursing the roots growing over the path, and struggle to regain my balance as I stumble onward. I’m starting to get light-headed from the split focus of handling so many mana weaves all at once, all while pulling blocks of granite as large as I am, but I’m too stubborn to stop. Not if my new recruits are still running.

  This is even worse than what Nicanor made me do. Why do I always get the crazy instructors?

  Ten minutes later, my teammates mercifully start to give out, though they’re putting on a brave face.

  “I can’t keep going!” Trevour gasps from beside me, staggering and falling to one knee. He hangs his head, and his body shakes with each gasp. “What’s wrong with me? My legs feel like lead.”

  “If you can still talk, you’re not working hard enough,” I say, panting for air in between each word.

  His chest is heaving, too. He drops the log on his shoulder, not even trying to pick it up. Yet as hard a time as he’s having, Marta is even worse, straggling so far behind I can’t hear her rasping, ragged breaths anymore.

  Casting my Domain behind me, I track the new team. Klaarson and Teuria converge on Marta’s location, helping her to her feet and linking arms to jog three-abreast. Awkward, slow, but together.

  I search further and locate the final straggler. Behind them, the oldest member of the team is struggling to keep up. Despite a Class skewed toward physical damage, Club is more of a bruiser than a runner. Strength isn’t the same as endurance.

  Don’t blame him. I hate running, too.

  Mikko and the Linas are nowhere to be found, not until I look the other way. Up ahead, much farther than I would have guessed, they’re already setting up camp and preparing food for the rest of us. Thanks to Nicanor’s tutelage on mana-empowering, they’re faster and fresher than the rest of us.

  They didn’t have to push their Skills like I did, though, so I take solace in the fact that I’d still be able to outrun them under any other circumstance. For now, Mikko exceeds my strength, but I’ll likely match him once I break through to the Second Threshold.

  He’ll catch up once he advances his grade to the next tier in Silver, though. I suspect he’ll get there soon, but I’ll relish the chance to be on equal footing with him for the first time in our lives, even if only for a short while.

  I offer Trevour a hand, and he grabs hold. His palm is cold and clammy with sweat, but his eyes are flint-like. He’s not about to give up.

  I haul him to his feet. “Steady yourself. The rest of your team is almost here. Don’t let them see you like this. You need to radiate strength and composure. It will help them stay calm in tough situations.”

  “Isn’t that . . . lying?” he grates out, still sucking wind and trying to regain equilibrium. “What if they feel bad that they can’t measure up, or hate me for pretending that this is easy?”

  I shake my head. “They know you’re struggling, too. They’ll see your effort. But people want reassurance. They tend to look for strong leaders when times are tough. You don’t have to be rude about projecting strength; you’re not trying to lord it over them or put on a front. You just need to let them know that when everything crashes down around them, when their worlds are disintegrating, they can rely on you.”

  “Someone to hold onto when the ground falls out from under them,” Trevour says once he’s caught his breath, a thoughtful look on his face.

  “Precisely,” I agree, squeezing his shoulder. “You won’t always get it right, you know. You don’t have to be the smartest, the strongest, the one with the best plans. But you do need to get everyone moving in the same direction. Be a pillar of strength. An anchor in the storm. Let them know you’re all in this together, and you’re going to do your best to get them through, no matter what challenge comes their way.”

  He drinks in every word, like a dry tree when a drought finally breaks and rain soaks the earth. Through my Domain, I sense a swirl of mana and significance settling around him, and my eyes widen as I watch him advance to the peak of Iron right in front of me.

  “Congratulations! One step away from the First Threshold,” I say, slapping him lightly on the back.

  His teammates arrive just in time to hear my announcement. I pitched my voice to carry on purpose, relying on the forewarning of my Domain to track their movement. They break into hoarse cheers, despite their own pain and exhaustion, and toss down their logs so they can run over and sweep Trevour up onto their shoulders.

  Whooping, they carry him around for a moment before they run out of energy and let him slip back down to the ground. They sprawl out, catching their breath, and I smile proudly as I watch them chat. A note of excitement trills through the air, despite their exhaustion, ragged breathing, and sore legs.

  Concealing your character is just about impossible when you’re heaving for air, your vision wavering, and you know you still have miles to go. As far as I’m concerned, they’ve more than passed the test.

  By the end of the day, just as the sunset paints the sky golden, the team new and old are huddled around a campfire a good twenty miles from Silaraon. They’re devouring a hearty stew of potatoes, carrots, and meat with their bare hands. It’s piping hot, but I’ve taken pity on them and used [Greater Heat Manipulation] and [Quick Cool] to bring it down to a temperature safe for consumption.

  Though, part of me suspects that after the wringer Ember put them through today, minor burns won’t seem like such a big deal.

  As soon as they finish eating, she claps twice, making them all leap up to their feet, and leads them through a gentle stretching routine to loosen up tired, aching muscles.

  “Don’t forget to infuse mana into your recovery,” I remind them. “As much as it hurts, it will speed recovery and will help prepare you for mana-empowering techniques. Oh, and it may expand your overall Capacity, as well, if you weren’t already convinced of its benefits.”

  No one groans or complains, though I know their quivering muscles are screaming with anger at the abuse their bodies went through. They quietly copy Ember’s movements, loosening up their sore limbs and preparing themselves to sleep.

  Three days later, we take a day off, letting them sleep and recover. The cycle of running, climbing, swimming, and lifting begins anew after that, and soon three weeks pass. We’re still a week off from our first delve, but everyone is growing faster, stronger, and more resilient. Best of all, team cohesion is better than ever.

  So, naturally, that’s when Ember moves on from fitness and introduces squad tactics and weapons training. They might be good teammates, and decent with knives and clubs, but they need to expand to other weapons and learn to operate as a single strike force.

  The foundation of fitness is in place. Time to build on it.