The recognition struck me unexpectedly. Someone like her alive and here when she should’ve belonged to a time long buried by history. But then again, Serith was still around too, so… it wasn’t so impossible. Either way, it wasn’t the kind of revelation I lingered on, and Griffith didn’t react at all.
“Early?” Serith echoed, raising an eyebrow. “The match starts in a couple hours. How am I early?” Her voice carried a casual sort of complaint, the kind reserved for old friends who’d been having the same argument for a long time.
“The girls aren’t even back yet,” Amei sighed, placing a hand against her forehead like a weary mother. Her tone held more of an exasperated elder’s scolding than the young flagrance that Serith usually used. “We made a schedule for a reason, you know?”
Serith sauntered forward, leaving Griffith and me to linger behind in an awkwardness, unsure where to stand. She dropped herself into one of the four chairs positioned in front of Amei’s sleek, obsidian-black desk and then shamelessly propped her legs up on it like she owned the place.
“You’re way too uptight,” Serith groaned, stretching out like a cat claiming territory. “That’s why it took you so long to evolve.”
Amei rolled her eyes and gave Serith’s legs a firm shove, knocking them from the desk with annoyance. That earned her a glare with tangible heat. “I thought it was because you can’t teach to save your life.”
“I do not! You’re just a terrible student,” Serith huffed, sounding genuinely offended.
Amei didn’t dignify that with a response. She strode over to her seat behind the desk and began tapping her fingers against a cube embedded in its front, each press precise, like a rhythm she’d memorized long ago.
Bzzz.
A soft buzz followed, and a young girl’s voice filtered through, calm and lighthearted. “Yes, Ancestor?”
“Make your way back,” Amei instructed. “Our guests are here.”
“What? But…” the voice came again, tinged with youthful protest. There was something in the tone, something that sent an uneasy shiver crawling across my skin. “We’re still playing!”
She sounded young. Younger than Velea. Way too young. Please let her just be immature for her age. I can’t seriously be fighting a child… right?
“Finish up quickly,” Amei ordered, her voice slipping into a tone I’d only heard from strict but patient parents. “You can bring your friend if you like. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see someone from her old home.”
Click.
The transmission cut off before the girl could offer another word of protest.
You already fought a child before,
Luna said oh-so-helpfully from inside my head. So don’t worry.Kazriel hadn't looked like a kid. But… Luna had a point. He’d basically been around junior high age. Still, this was different. He had only been a memory. An illusion produced in a mystical trail, so I couldn’t ignore it. I had to ask. Had to.
“Serith?” I asked, voice cautious, hesitant.
She turned, her orange eyes meeting mine. Amei followed the shift, both of them now watching me in silence.
“My opponent… That wasn’t her, was it?”
Serith turned back toward Amei. “It was, wasn’t it?”
Amei nodded once, calmly.
The words burst from me without a pause. “Her age?” I spoke so fast my voice cracked, for the first time in what felt like forever.
Amei turned her gaze to me, momentarily confused. “What?”
I cleared my throat, forcing the tension down. “If I may ask… how old is your champion?”
“Oh.” She clasped her hands beneath her chin, elbows resting against the desk as she leaned in slightly. Her dark brown hair flowed down her shoulders like a waterfall, and there was a distinct gleam in her uniquely pink eyes with an unmistakable glint of pride. “The youngest champion in history,” she said warmly. “She’ll be thirteen in the coming months.”
My jaw clenched.
I narrowed my eyes at Serith, who looked back at me with total, infuriating confusion.
“What?” she asked innocently.
I literally bit my tongue to keep the frustration from boiling over. Now wasn’t the time. I could chew her out later. “Nothing,” I muttered. “Just curious.”
If that girl was really a champion, one who could possibly die in this match… then she had to be capable, but that wasn’t the part I was struggling with. The real problem was something different.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
What was I supposed to look like if I beat a child in front of everyone? It’s not like I’d be able to pull my punches. Not against someone who could theoretically stand against me.
“Would you like anything while you wait?” Amei asked with a gentle smile. One that made it abundantly clear she already knew what had been running through my head. Thankfully, she was tactful enough not to say it aloud.
Griffith stepped forward with measured confidence, lowering himself to one knee on the third stride. “May I be permitted to speak?”
Amei raised her eyebrows, clearly surprised by the formality. “I asked you for a reason,” she replied, then glanced over at me. “This sort of formality isn’t necessary in our country. You don’t need to have your guard behave like this.”
While it was a kind gesture, she vastly misinterpreted the situation, but I said nothing. Griffith had already taken the lead.
“If you’re offering something beyond pleasantries or refreshments… journals,” he said firmly, his voice carrying quiet resolve. “Anything you believe I might be able to understand.”
I wasn’t exactly an expert in whatever strange blend of technology and magic that they may operate on here, but I'm sure Griffith knew his own limitations well. And if he couldn’t make sense of it, Trevor might be able to lend a hand. Though let’s be honest, neither of us were anything close to professional. We’d only just finished high school.
Still, I couldn’t deny how deeply that glowing blue energy that thread through their machines and installations captivated me. And yet, even standing in front of Amei now, I wouldn’t have guessed she was anything out of the ordinary.
She bore no visible modifications. No sleek plating, no mechanical appendages. Her skin was pale enough that you could call it pasty. Wrinkles lined the knuckles of her hands and etched subtle shadows beneath her eyes, giving her an older, wearier look compared to Serith’s youthful brilliance.
Amei rose smoothly to her feet, her deep violet dress cascading in ripples around her legs. “You’re welcome to try. Our libraries are housed on terminals linked directly to our system. Physical copies no longer exist.”
That gave me pause.
In a culture like this, I doubted there would be severe societal division based on ability. But if there were people without system connectivity… if there were Bloodless—
“Your collection of knowledge is entirely digital?” I asked, careful with my tone.
Amei’s smile warmed just a little, maybe pleased by the question. Serith, meanwhile, had already begun to check out, her eyes glossing over. The lofty aura she liked to carry began to fade as she clearly lost interest.
Amei tapped the cube on her desk a few more times.
Suddenly, the office windows blacked out. In the next instant, glowing blue runes flooded the glass, replacing the view with luminous script. For a second, the entire room was swallowed by a soft, humming radiance.
The text wasn’t quite the same as the script I’d seen back in the State of Stars, but it was close enough. Familiar enough that, with effort, I could begin to make out fragments.
It also reminded me how badly I needed to brush up on reading. Writing wouldn’t hurt either.
Griffith, however, was already immersed. His eyes darted from line to line, absorbing everything.
After spending time to focus, it seemed to be something about the migratory patterns of a particular bird species.
“We maintain a central database,” Amei explained, casting a glance my way. “It’s essentially a collection of knowledge and history.”
I didn’t bother telling her the concept was already familiar to me. Instead, I found myself wondering how this language had crossed such boundaries. Not just between its own planet and culture, but between worlds.
Everyone I’d met on this entire planet, and even those in vastly different territories, spoke the same tongue.
My language. The one I’d grown up with.
Unless something changed back when I came through that first portal, sitting at my cafeteria table. Maybe my mind had been altered somehow. I had no proof., but then again, with what I’d come to understand about Intent, Force, and the unpredictable systems around me, it seemed plausible enough to happen.
“Not all of us have the ability to connect with our systems,” Amei continued, her voice even. “But most do. There are rare, unfortunate cases where a person has a defective, thin, or entirely absent Bloodline, but—”
“That’s enough, Amei. You’re going to get us in trouble,” Serith interrupted with a wide yawn, cutting her off casually but firmly. “If it were just the big guy, no problem, but my champion is present.”
Amei quickly covered her mouth, a hint of sheepishness creeping into her expression. “Right. Of course.”
“You still lose track of your thoughts when you’re excited,” Serith said with a dramatic sigh, gesturing toward her. “Bad student.” She tapped her own chest, grinning. “Not a bad teacher.”
Amei didn’t argue the point. Instead, she reached across the desk.
Flick.
The sound was sharp, ringing through the air with an intensity that sent goosebumps down my arm. The glowing script across the windows shimmered, trembling from the sheer force behind the simple gesture.
Serith didn’t even flinch. She merely batted Amei’s hand away, as if fending off an annoying insect.
Amei calmly drew her hand back. “Well, both things can be true, of course.”
Before the exchange could spiral further, a soft buzz came from the terminal on the desk.
“Ancestor, your descendant is here,” said the voice over the intercom.
“Let her in,” Amei replied, her tone slipping back into formality.
Serith rose to her feet, brushing her dress down with a few graceful swipes, smoothing out the faint wrinkles. “I’m still stunned you get away with interacting so freely within your domain,” she said, her tone low and wry.
Amei shook her head. “I don’t interact. The building wasn’t requested by me. Everything was offered. I simply accepted.”
Serith leaned in just slightly, her voice softening to a whisper as the doors behind us began to open. “Just be careful. If they start to think of you as too much, things could turn bad.”
The gate doors parted.
“You’ll watch me beat him up?” a young girl said, skipping into the room with confidence.
Another girl followed behind her who was taller, older, maybe around my age or just a touch beyond. “Of course, I’ll—”
I stopped breathing. I swear, for a handful of seconds, my heart simply forgot how to pump blood. My entire body turned to stone the instant our eyes met.
She recognized me, and I recognized her.
That voice. That face. She was the first person I’d ever seen wield a spiritual weapon. The first I’d seen command multiple elemental affinities. I hadn’t seen her since the trial, since the illusion.
I had left first, claimed my reward, and moved on.
Still, it wasn’t possible. She had lived in Voxter. She shouldn’t be here. Even if it was said that she was lost and didn't remember where she was. That she’d run for so long. There was no path that should’ve led her to this place.
We spoke at the same time, breathless and disbelieving:
“Synthia?” “Peter?”