I decided to take a break after being ejected from Fortunatus' visions. My stomach was grumbling, my mind felt wrung out like an old rag, and I knew I needed time to take notes and digest what I had already seen.

  Fortunatus' magical abilities seemed focused, at least in part, on sensing...something. I had no idea what, but those threads had to have some kind of meaning beyond looking pretty.

  Moreover, his memories revealed an interesting wrinkle to our bond. I had assumed sharing senses and memories would be a shallow thing, not unlike watching a play or reading a book. You understood what was happening, but you didn't really experience them in any detail.

  Instead, Fortunatus' memories showed the exact opposite. He had been able to mimic my spells, replicating them in a fraction of the time because he had experienced them through me.

  If I could somehow decipher Fortunatus' memories, I should be able to do the same.

  I made my way downstairs to eat a quick lunch. The inn was more than happy to accommodate, and soon I was staring at a plate of grilled meats, vegetables, and soft bread. Hardy and tasty, but not a meal I took much pleasure in eating. Other thoughts consumed my attention.

  My best guess was that Fortunatus was tapping into something that already existed but typically went unseen. It could be a sense beyond what humans naturally obtained, like a snake that could detect body heat from prey.

  But what if it was something related to Aether itself? Scholars had wondered for centuries what my mana might represent in the natural world. Maybe...maybe those threads might hold the clue?

  I forced down my lunch, then returned upstairs and allowed myself another hour to finish recovering. When I was ready to try again, the sun was just starting to creep towards the far horizon, and yet Flynn still hadn't returned.

  Well, at least I wouldn't feel bad for locking myself in my room for the entire day.

  I returned to the mental world, then dove back into Fortunatus' memories. It was easier this time to ride the river of his mind, and soon I once again stood overlooking the city square.

  On a second look, those silvery threads differed slightly from one another. Most were so fine I could only just barely perceive them, yet others looked notably thicker, closer to hairs than spiderwebs. The difference was minute, but I suspected this meant something.

  I walked along the railing, something similar to curiosity flitting through me along with something else. A kind of...weight, maybe? It pushed on my mind as I looked upon the threads, but precisely what it meant escaped my notice.

  Unfortunately, there wasn't much else to glean from my partner's memories. He'd only just discovered this strange world of threads a few days prior, and he had no greater idea what they meant.

  Worse, he was a cat, prone to the fleeting attention and whims of his mundane cousins. He didn't care to discover the intricacies of his abilities, and that reflected in his actions. There was no careful observation, no comparisons with his mundane senses. Fortunatus merely noted the change, like one might the weather.

  I went through those memories a few more times just to be sure, then returned to the physical world with a low, frustrated sigh. It was too much to expect miracles with one day of work, but it would've been a nice change of pace.

  Then again, there were a few more hours of daylight left, and I didn't plan to meet with Alexandria for another day or two anyway. Maybe one more test wouldn't hurt.

  I checked my appearance in the mirror, making sure I looked presentable enough before making my way downstairs and out onto the city streets. It took me only a few minutes to find a relatively quiet spot tucked between two shops in the main square.

  After a brief moment to make sure no one was looking too closely, I closed my eyes and reached into my core.

  It was a bizarre thing, knowing how to use a magical ability without ever having actually used it. I could remember the feeling of the magic, how it felt as it took shape inside of me, but they were someone else's memories and experiences rather than my own.

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  Thankfully, my mind didn't notice the difference.

  My Aether rose to my provocation, quick as a strong wind and smooth as water. It took me only seconds to mold it into the proper shape and form, pushing into it the intent I had taken from Fortunatus' memories.

  The entire process was intuitive, driven by instinct rather than logic or understanding, and I hated every moment of it. Every fiber of my being demanded that I break down the process into something academic, but I couldn't. Not yet, at least.

  But worst of all, it worked. The magic snapped into existence with barely a hiccup, and it took only a brief flex of will to push it into place.

  The mana flowed into my eyes, and the world of threads blossomed into existence.

  I blinked, my eyes wandering over the countless silvery lines hanging in the air. They were harder to perceive in person, to the point where I could only just see them. Still, I could, and that was enough for the moment.

  The first thing I noticed as I looked around the square was that the concentration around a person or object seemed to vary by significance. Larger shops and buildings seemed to draw more threads than smaller, less popular businesses. Similarly, passerbys who wore ostentatious clothes and flashy jewelry had countless silvery spiderwebs hanging around their bodies, while those dressed in simple, functional attire had only a few clinging to them.

  As I followed these threads, another peculiarity caught my eye.

  There was a man standing outside of a shop, likely the owner, judging by his attire. Dozens of threads hung about his body, some extending far into the distance, but most were much shorter. Every time a person walked by the man, he shouted offers to stop in, check out his wares, and so on, which caused a strange reaction among the threads. They'd change, some thickening, others vanishing, and others still appearing as if from thin air.

  What was most interesting was that when someone stopped, the threads would suddenly multiply, going from four or five strands to well over a dozen.

  I found myself moving before I realized I had started walking.

  "Excuse me," I said as I came within earshot of the shopkeeper. "May I ask you something?"

  "Of course, my young friend," the man said, turning to me with a bright smile. As he did so, I saw the threads change, some breaking off and others wrapping around my body.

  I hadn't actually thought about what to say, so I hesitated for a moment before smiling. "I'm new to the capital. Could you direct me to the Bronze Barrel?"

  It was the inn I had stayed in years prior, back when I first went through the Awakening. I wasn't sure why I had thought of it, but ultimately it didn't matter. What I wanted to see was how the threads changed up close and personal.

  "Ah, of course. You'll want to head down this street, bear left at the first turn, and continue for about fifteen minutes. From there, you'll see it on the right. Large building, big sign," the man explained, a smile still in place.

  As he explained, some of the threads shifted once more. Many of them frayed and broke away, while the remaining ones thickened. And as they changed, something else rose in the back of my mind.

  It wasn't anything I would have noticed if I hadn't been on the lookout for changes. In fact, I wasn't even sure then that I was actually feeling anything. Still, there was a strange tension in the air, a sort of tingling along the back of my spine and neck that I couldn't ignore.

  I might call it intuition, but what were the odds this would happen while I was testing a new ability?

  Instead of returning to the inn, I spent the next several hours talking to other shopkeepers, traders, pedestrians, and even a few guards. Each test left me with more questions than answers, and I eventually decided to retire for the evening, filled with curiosity and frustration in equal parts.

  I was now sure the threads meant something, and that something had to do with actions and reactions of those they touched. My best guess was that it was a kind of...visualized intuition, instincts made manifest. I had no idea how that might work, but it was the only thing that seemed to make sense when combined with the strange sixth sense I had felt when using the sight.

  Fortunatus seemed to sense my frustrations and sent me what I could only describe as assurances that he would try harder in the future. I wanted to be annoyed at the cat for not putting in more effort, but the truth was, I had been neglecting our bond for months. I was just as at fault as he was for not leveraging a potential benefit, and was now paying the price.

  Besides, what was magic without a few mysteries?

  Flynn waited for me in our room, reclined on the couch with one arm slung over his eyes. As I entered, he sat up and stretched with a yawn.

  "Welcome back," Flynn said, his words elongating as he twisted one way and then the other. "How'd it go with Vesper?"

  "She is willing to join us," I replied. "Conditionally."

  "Which are?"

  I quickly went over Vesper's demands, and Flynn chewed them over for a second or two before nodding once.

  "I don't have a problem with most of them. The whole 'bringing a noble and their co-conspirators to justice along with possibly an entire order of assassins' thing might be a bit tricky, but I'm always eager for a challenge."

  I smiled. "Let's hope they're willing to stay out of it."

  "They're professionals. If there isn't money in it, they won't get involved. Self-preservation is a hell of a thing."

  After a few seconds, I said, "What about our other problem? Did you..."

  "Think of a way to get your old teacher to train us?" Flynn asked. I nodded, and he chuckled before continuing, "Well, that's the rub. You see, I decided to talk to the man myself. See if I could get a feel for him. I had to wait hours just to get a meeting with him."

  "And?" I pushed.

  "And he refused," Flynn replied. "Or rather, he refused to discuss it. Instead, we made another deal."

  I was about to ask what he meant when there came a knock at the door. Flynn glanced over to it, then shouted, "Come on in!"

  The door opened, revealing a servant a few years older than us. He took a handful of steps into the room, then bowed at the waist. "Apologies for the interruption, my lord, but you asked that I inform you when your guest arrived."

  "Suspiciously good timing," Flynn commented with a snort. "Must have been waiting for you. You can show him in."

  I had a good idea what he meant, and the moment the door shut, I rounded on Flynn.

  "What the hell are you doing?" I demanded in a hushed voice. "Did you—"

  "I did. Julian will only discuss a possible deal with you," Flynn said, raising both hands in mock surrender.

  I stared for a few seconds, then shook my head. "I don't appreciate being ambushed."

  "In my defense, I hadn't intended to do that, but it seems your old mentor is eager to speak with you," Flynn remarked with a snort before his face turned serious. "If you're not able to do it, I can send him away."

  I considered the offer before finally replying, "No. He's here, and there's no point in pushing it off further. The longer I wait, the less I'll want to confront him."

  Flynn nodded, and together we waited in silence. Another minute or os passed in silence before there came another knock. The servant entered again, bowing his head and sweeping one arm to the side.

  "Your guest, my lords."

  I took one final breath, then stood to greet Master Julian, with frustration and bitterness warring in my chest like a great fire.

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