Opening his eyes felt like drilling screws through his retinas, but it only took a moment for the pain to vanish. Ian squinted and reached out his hand, running his fingers through the air.

The entire room was filled with round bulbs of muted color. Ian could almost imagine them as globes of water pricked by a colored spindle, dye billowing slowly out. Some raced around, while others bobbed slowly in place; still others moved in languid patterns. He noticed that a large cluster had gathered around a pregnant woman, circling her stomach like sharks.

Though Ian had never heard of such a phenomenon, he had a feeling he knew what the bulbs were: souls. Whatever gift Achemiss had given him, it was giving him the ability to see something unprecedented. A kernel of excitement awakened within him, a million questions coursing through his mind.

Ian closed his eyes again, causing the souls to fall out of view. He opened them again, revealing the same scene as before, souls drifting all throughout the noodle shop. He didn’t seem to be able to see the souls inside of people, but rather disembodied souls: aimless and thoughtless seeds of potential.

He tried to poke a soul in front of him, but it bent and floated away as though magnetically repelled. He tried to enclose the soul between his arms, but the soul squeezed out and up, gliding off to the other side of the shop.

Ian cleared his throat, realizing how awkward and random his gestures must seem to any onlookers. Freezing in place, he grabbed his glossY and tried to see himself in the reflection of its smooth surface. The picture wasn’t very clear, but Ian noticed his eyes didn’t seem to look any different. Euryphel did say that he saw no outward effects.

After eating his fill, Ian returned to the Fassari Summit grounds. Everywhere he walked watercolor souls bobbed over the heads of people like lanterns tethered to the ground below. Was every person really ensouled with these floating spheres? Where did they come from?

Ian never thought the day would come when he’d want a necromancy manual, but life was full of surprises. If only they weren’t banned.

As Ian navigated back to his room, he wondered if Fassar City was always so crowded or if tournament festivities had galvanized people to get out and hit the streets. Given the long history of successful Fassari Summits, that the tournament grounds were well-prepared for regular spectators and foreign elites alike was unsurprising. He recognized that the only reason he was able to move around so easily was because his vital signature had been added to Fassar’s visiting dignitary registry, else he’d need to go through several security checkpoints.

After identifying an area free of onlookers, Ian used his decemancy to quickly scale one of the tall walls forming the summit’s perimeter, then walked across the grass until he reached a sand-and-dirt path full of tournament attendees. Souls congregated along the walkway; further out where there was only grass, the souls were comparatively sparse, only a handful stranded like colored beads in the empty sky.

It was at this point that Ian remembered he hadn’t checked his glossY messages all afternoon. He pulled out the device and winced as he viewed his sent message, trying to remember what he’d actually meant to send.

> I’m going out to Fassar City. I be gj r. Let you know if anything G he wrong.

He’d nailed the first sentence, but the middle sentence could honestly be anything.

Euryphel’s first response was evidently confused:

> What???

His follow-up message was more typical:

> Be safe. Let me know when you’ve returned.

Ian began to swipe a response.

> Getting back now.

He stared at the glossY, wondering if he should say anything else. I think this is fine. We can talk more in person.

A few minutes later, Ian returned to his room. Not even thirty seconds in the door, he heard a knock and recognized the familiar energy signature of the Crowned Prime.

Ian reformed a bone glove and flung it toward the door, using it to adroitly turn the handle. “Come in.”

“It seems like you’ve had a bit of an interesting afternoon,” Euryphel said, crossing the threshold and raising an eyebrow. “Your eyes are open.”

Ian nodded. “Earlier, when you said not to open them...You forced me to open them in a Regret scenario, right?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“What do you know, then?” Ian asked.

Euryphel sat down on the stone table, sweeping away a few shards of bone. “Between running scenarios then and now, I think I have a fairly good understanding of the current situation.”

Ian suppressed a frown. What did the prince mean, exactly? Was he just referring to knowledge about his enhanced vision, or was he referring to Achemiss?

Ian still wasn’t sure if it was wise to tell Euryphel about what he’d seen. Call it a healthy suspicion, but Ian recognized that the prince wasn’t unfettered from the whims of people around him. If he knew that Ian’s coming descendant would doom the SPU...Euryphel very well might decide to kill him, or be forced into taking such a decision by the other princes and his congress.

Of course, Achemiss had promised to intervene and stop most of Pardinia’s destruction...Though technically, the ascendant hadn’t even promised that much: He’d only sworn to block the ascendant’s first blow.

Ian’s mind went back to his original question: had he already told Euryphel about Achemiss? And if not, should he now, or should he do so later, when he could better think-through how to present what Achemiss had told him?

“Do you know how this happened?” Ian asked, pointing to his right eye.

“You had a dream,” Euryphel replied. “In it, you were visited by someone.”

Ian blinked. Still not sure how much I told him, exactly... “Did I give you any more details?”

“Plenty of them, in my scenarios. I’m not going to repeat them out loud here; it’s not the wisest choice when foreign wind elementalists are about and listening to voices carried on the wind.”

Ian got the not-so-subtle hint to change the subject. “How did everyone’s duels go? I’m sorry I left early, but I needed some time alone to process.”

Euryphel waved his hand dismissively. “You didn’t miss much. Diana pulled through by the skin of her teeth, besting a water elementalist with what I’d call sheer force of will. I won my duel, of course; they like to match the sovereigns up against weaker seeds, makes for a more interesting tournament as the second day comes around. Lanhui had a first match against Datcha’s Primus, of all people, and lost; he’ll be fighting with others who lost their first match in the evening to determine which of them will proceed. I’ve heard that this year it’s going to be a ranked battle royale, with the top twenty moving onward into the second round of the tournament.”

Ian recalled the leader of Datcha, one of the more powerful practitioners in existence: Lindabet Zhuram, or the Night Queen, a Dark and Life practitioner with a near impenetrable defense.

Perhaps I’ll be going up against her eventually, Ian thought. “So even on a supposedly easier year, we still have powerful juggernauts like her participating.”

Euryphel shrugged. “There will always be peak practitioners in attendance. It’s usually a question of what kinds of things they specialize in, and whether tournament-style duels are good match-ups for their fighting styles.”

Ian grinned. “Would you consider my skill set well-disposed toward duels?”

Euryphel rolled his eyes. “There's a good reason why I think you’ll sweep the entire tournament.”

“While Lanhui is participating in the battle royale, will we be going to watch?” Ian asked.

Euryphel shook his head. “There’s going to be an enormous gala hosted at Yuma Tai’s estate at the same time. The battle royale is a spectacle, to be sure, but the gala isn’t an event to voluntarily miss.”

Thankfully I paid attention to all the names in Euryphel’s dossier, even the non-competitors. Euryphel had left some notes that Yuma Tai would likely host some kind of party to welcome all the foreign dignitaries. Ian recalled that Tai was the most powerful practitioner in all of Fassar, though that wasn’t necessarily saying much: Tai wasn’t quite a peak practitioner, just barely scraping 89%...though to give her credit, she had achieved the same level of mastery in both her affinities.

“Will we all be going to that, then?”

Euryphel nodded solemnly. “We shall.”

Ian frowned. “Is the Eldemari going to be in attendance?”

“It’s highly likely, yes. I can see why you’d be concerned, but there’s no reason for her to notice you any more than the other sovereigns. Now that everyone’s gathered here, it’s become more evident to me that you’re more tangled in fate than I had realized. While it certainly puts the spotlight on you, it doesn’t suggest that you have anything noteworthy connecting you to Selejo anymore.”

So Suran Rindo was right. Not that Ian had really doubted the man, but it helped to have Euryphel confirm that he really was horribly tangled in fate throughout not just Ho’ostar, but apparently the entire world.

Ian suddenly thought back to Ascendant Ari’s disgust-tinged words from Achemiss’ vision: “A false ascendant. This world’s as good as gone.” Ian didn’t know what a false ascendant was, but given Achemiss’ tip about the Infinity Loop being perhaps far more nefarious than what Ian had ever considered...

“When will we be leaving for the gala?” Ian asked.

“In around three hours. You can go and see duels until then or simply relax, though do try to avoid being too conspicuous. Keeping you entirely hidden is by now a bit of a lost cause; any End practitioner would be able to find you.”

“What will you be doing in the meantime?”

Euryphel flashed a predatory smile. “I’ll be accompanying Shivin’i on a...casual stroll.”

They’re definitely going to be gathering intelligence and gossip, Ian mused. “Well, I hope you enjoy the good weather, then.”

Euryphel chuckled and slid off the table, walking toward the doorway. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later.”

And then he was alone. He could go and see the duels, certainly, or he could sleep.

He gritted his teeth. If he were still in the loop, he’d never consider something as pointless as taking a nap. He’d be invested in scoping out as much information as possible, seeing exactly the kinds of competitors he might meet in the second round of the competition.

From now on, it’s best if I try and think as though I’m still trapped, Ian supposed, walking over to the SPU uniform he’d slung over the top of a chair. And that starts with playing my role here as a non-ascending tournament participant perfectly.

It also meant not experimenting with his new soul-sight at the summit, no matter how tempting it might be. Ian stretched his shoulders, then garbed himself in the SPU uniform before heading back to the arena.

—

“You really do clean up well.”

Ian rolled his eyes and gave Euryphel a lazy grin. The Crowned Prime was dressed in a navy robe embroidered with threads of lighter blue and white. Instead of wearing his sapphire hair ornament that framed the side of his head, he now wore a new ornament Ian hadn’t seen before, pinning his hair in a high bun. This one was also socketed with sapphires, one enormous blue gem serving as its centerpiece. Ian thought the prince might have also done something to his face, but couldn’t pick out anything in particular other than that the prime looked radiant.

Ian was wearing a similar robe, though with simpler embroidery. The robes were well-tailored, allowing them to cut excellent profiles in the dim winter twilight. The entire delegation was so attired, marking them all as representatives of the SPU.

The SPU dignitary entourage was standing on the rooftop where they’d met earlier in the morning. Everyone besides Lanhui was present and ready to go.

“How are we getting to Tai’s estate?” Diana asked, crossing her arms.

Ian figured there’d be a private hovergloss connection. As though sensing his thoughts, Euryphel replied, “Not by hovergloss. Because Yuma Tai has hosted this gala year after year for over two decades, she eventually worked with the summit organizers to create a transport array between the summit grounds and her backyard. More convenient, and less expensive in the end.”

Ian nodded his head. “Reduced security costs.”

Diana snorted. “Let’s go then; who are we waiting for?”

“No one,” Shivin’i replied calmly, giving her a neutral smile. “We just wanted to establish some ground rules first for first time attendees.

“All of you can probably guess at what this kind of gala is going to involve: flattery, gossip, espionage...I won’t bore you with what you already know. What you absolutely must not forget is that all active practice at the gala is forbidden. Affinities come with basic passive effects,” Shivin’i said. He looked over at Euryphel, then Diana. “Such as End affinity’s fate sight, or Sun affinity’s heat vision. These are the only practitioner advantages you can leverage.”

Ian knew this already, but appreciated hearing the regulation again.

“In this kind of environment, Regret and Remorse practitioners are weakest, having almost no passive skills to speak of. At the other end of the spectrum are Beginning and End, with the bulk of their utility placed in their passive effects. Lucky for us, we have several powerful Beginning and End practitioners.” Shivin’i glanced over at a few dignitaries outside of the dueling four, most of them from the SPU’s Congress. “Still, we’ve tried to round our collective out, and should have most of the affinities covered, even if some are only at a middling level.”

Ian’s eyes traveled to Eury. I wonder how he’ll fare without his Regret affinity.

“How will the restriction on our practice be enforced?” Ian asked. For instance, how would anyone be able to tell whether Euryphel or other End practitioners were actively running scenarios?

“With these,” Euryphel interjected, holding up a cluster of sky-blue bracelets. “They’ve been provided by Star Enterprises free of charge.”

“What do they do, exactly?”

Euryphel nodded. “They work a bit like an oath, in the sense that they’ll actively compel you from practicing. I’ve worn one before, and I can attest that the compulsion isn’t very powerful. The reason why we agree to wear them is that the compulsion can be broken, though doing so will cause the bracelet to change color.”

“That makes sense,” Ian acknowledged. He certainly wouldn’t be willing to attend the gala if he was completely helpless, not when people had good motivation to kill him.

“And what are we supposed to do at the gala besides socialize, exactly?” Ian knew people would be leveraging their affinities to try and collect as much information as possible on everyone else, but he wasn’t sure what they were supposed to do about it, other than be extra-conscientious about every spoken word, every given gesture.

“The gala has always proceeded into bizarre territory by the end of the night. While the attendees are forbidden from actively practicing, the same is not to be said for Yuma Tai. Yuma...she often tries to think of ways to make her party memorable.”

At this last sentence, Euryphel snickered. Ian and Diana glanced his way, giving each other shared looks of befuddlement.

“It changes every year, but the best advice I can give is to always keep your wits about you. She’s a Light and Moon practitioner.”

In other words, an adept illusionist, Ian thought.

“What’s she going to do, exactly? I can tell who’s real from who’s not just by the temperature of their skin,” Diana murmured, frowning.

“Not when you’re dealing with someone who can create illusionary phantoms filled with hot water...in rooms full of billowing mist,” Euryphel said coolly. “Tai intentionally plays on the fact that everyone will be putting greater emphasis on their passive perception abilities.”

Now it was Ian’s turn to frown. “But how could she fake something like vital energy?”

Euryphel gave Shivin’i a look. The man sighed, giving the decemancer a small shrug. “I don’t believe I ever asked one of the decemancers what their experience was like, though I anticipate it will be confounding. Yuma is thorough in her preparations.”

“Sounds like an old woman with too much time on her hands,” Diana observed.

Euryphel smiled coolly. “An old woman who spends all year preparing for this gala, and could defeat you with her eyes closed.”

Diana grunted. “Still, it seems a bit childish to play with her guests for decades. You’d think she’d grow tired of it.”

Shivin’i chuckled darkly. “I’m not sure she’ll ever grow tired of it.”