By marrying into a main line, the Reirna accepts responsibility for leadership of the house in the event of the Reirn’s death. Thus, any of close line who may be eligible for the reirnship must take the utmost care in choosing their spouses, lest someone incapable of acting properly were to come to power.

-Duties of the Reirna

The first thing I did was look around for Desten 3, cursing myself for letting him out of my sight.

We’d split up to mingle —well, him to mingle, me to find something more filling than the average appetizers served at these sort of event— as we’d already spoken to anyone remotely interested in discourse on Desten’s agenda. I’d even contemplated leaving early, but according to my research into social customs, it would be rude to leave without staying at least an hour and a half, unless I truly had some pressing appointment.

I’d been in the process of trying to invent a pressing enough appointment, when the hubbub had begun. And by the time I found Desten 3, sitting in intense discussion with a pair of older women, it’d been nearly a half hour since the actual murder.

I tried to casually ask how long their conversation had been going on for, and they all answered some variety of ‘Oh, since the news reached us, isn’t it terrible? Now, about the potential fallout of a sudden change in ownership of the Westrift manufacturies…’

Panic was doing its very best to drown me, and I wasn’t doing a great job keeping afloat. There weren’t any other Destens in the area. Either— either someone had flown in from another city specifically to kill this one individual, or I was sharing a bathroom with a murderer.

No. It couldn’t be Desten 3. Right? I’d already ruled him out. He … he was …

I couldn’t remember. Whatever reasons I’d had suddenly seemed unconvincing in the face of a Desten who sat right here, a minute away from where another person had been torn apart.

Power flared around me, my aura bubble popping effortlessly into existence without conscious thought, putting a shield between us. I was breathing too fast, everything seemed blurry, but I couldn’t let on that I knew or at least suspected.

“I need,” I started unsteadily.

Desten leapt to his feet at once, waving off the others. “Astesh! Are you alright? You look terrible. Excuse us. Another time perhaps. Come on, let’s get you home.”

He took a step forward, and I stepped back. “Ah. I’ll … I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? Here, have a seat, at least.”

I sat, my bubble molding itself around the chair instinctively. My hands trembled violently and power flickered visibly across my skin. Not calming, for once, but rather sparking into pink lightning with eager energy.

I wanted nothing more than to jump into the sky and run away until my power gave out and I was left somewhere safely far far away.

“Astesh?” Desten asked hesitantly. All three of them were staring at me now.

I waved a hand at him and shook my head. “Go on. I’ll … be fine.”

He nodded slowly, but sat down nearby instead of leaving, glancing at me with concern. The other two continued gossiping, but I could tell Desten wasn’t paying any attention to them. He was watching me.

I had to get out of here. Had to get away. Far, near; inconsequential. Just away. Anywhere was better than here.

If I could think, if I could calmly consider, I could re-examine my assumptions. I could decide if Desten 3 was the killer or if this was just me overreacting. But I couldn’t do any of that here, with him watching.

I jumped up and walked away as quickly as I could, the pink aura bubble around me blurring out the world as it pulsed and flickered with thick layers of power.

Some people exclaimed, others glared, a few shouted. My bubble was too big, pushing through groups sent them scattering, but I didn’t care. I just had to get away.

“Stop,” someone ordered firmly, and a wall of power flickered into existence before me, blocking my way. “No one is leaving. Please remain calm and stay inside.”

“I have to get out. I have to.” I threw myself against the wall again. My bubble deformed against it, flattening out instead of pushing through.

I slammed myself bodily into the light, but its solidity would put stone walls to shame. It neither flickered nor moved in the slightest at the impact. I bounced off and landed hard on the ground, tears leaking down my face unnoticed.

“Astesh!” Desten shouted from somewhere behind me. “Astesh, where are you?”

My aura shrank, clinging down tight against my skin, hidden under my clothing except where my hands glowed a vibrant fuchsia, and I hastily tucked those against my chest as I ducked to the ground. There were enough people between us, he might not see me.

“Having some sort of panic attack, I think,” someone said nearby, and then a hand closed around my upper arm and tried to pull me to my feet.

I lashed out at the stranger, screaming, “No!” Power flared out and pink flames licked at the carpet around me, leaving a scorched patch before they died away.

I ran, ducking into the nearest side corridor, but even that was full of people.

I needed to get away, to somewhere alone, somewhere I could calm down and think this through. The constant pressure of everyone looking at me only exacerbated my inability to think straight.

There was no thinking, no reasoning. Impulse and reaction. Terrified adrenaline combined with the lightning power and I ran faster. The world seemed almost to move in pictures, shifting slowly. As though I ran unimpeded through a mire in which everyone else labored.

I didn’t question my good fortune, in truth I barely noticed it. I ran from room to room, seeking somewhere isolated, somewhere empty of strangers staring. At last I found a small hallway on the upper level, unlit and empty, and a flare of pink built walls across both ends of it.

At last, I was safe. I leaned against the wall, exhaling between frantic gasps, and tried to calm myself. The aura clinging to my skin flickered and vanished, the lightning running through my blood faded away. A faint pulse of gentle pink warmth ran through me, finally washing away the panic and the terror and the desperation.

It took another long minute to recover physically, but I immediately felt more stable.

I realized at once that I’d overreacted. Massively. Even if Desten 3 were the killer, he’d have no reason to suspect that I knew anything about him. Pelys and Fylen’s friends were the only ones who knew anything about me, and they were all back in Sarosa.

I breathed carefully and slowly. Think it through, Astesh. Desten 3. What did I really know about him?

He wanted to change the world. He believed in people being good for no better reason than that they ought to. Or he always had, before he met me. He was beginning to understand that change required incentive and impetus, and didn’t simply occur naturally or because someone pointed out it would be a good idea.

But even if I was slowly shifting his naive outlook to something more closely resembling reality, he still didn’t strike me as a murderer. I’d never seen him use his power once, let alone in anger.

I really should find him and apologize.

I slumped down to sit on the floor, covering my face with my arms. I should apologize to a lot of people. I had probably caused a dreadful scene.

The more I thought about it, the more humiliated I felt about the whole mess. There was no way to excuse my behavior that didn’t make me sound either pathetic or deranged. Everyone was tense; no one else was throwing power around so carelessly.

Oh, lost god. I actually burned the floor, didn’t I? I didn’t hurt anyone, did I? Did the fire go out, or was the building burning down?

I sighed, dried my tears, and got to my feet. Another comforting pulse of pink light, and I felt able to face the repercussions of my brief insanity.

To my surprise, the pink walls I’d erected to either side of my sanctuary still stood. I only then noticed that someone stood on the other side.

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly. “I don’t know how to take these down.”

“Pull them back until they collapse back inward.”

“I don’t know how.” I could barely control this power enough to do things I was well practiced in, and this was something completely unknown.

“With the amount of power you put into these, unless you collapse them they’ll last for weeks.”

Oh.

It took another hour of increasingly frustrated attempts before I somehow drew the walls back inward. They rippled, distorted, then vanished.

Pelys stepped into my previous sanctuary. I hadn’t quite recognized his voice or silhouette from inside the barriers, and my first instinct was to flinch back.

Pel stopped advancing. “What happened?”

“Someone else was killed. Yellow fire, sudden explosion. I’d lost track of Desten 3, and I panicked.” I shook my head. “I can’t explain it. I just had to get away, and …” I shook my head. “I don’t know, I’ve never felt that way before.”

The more time passed, the more surreal the entire affair felt. Moments stood out with vivid clarity; others faded into a blur.

I straightened abruptly as I remembered. “The fire! Did anyone get hurt?”

“I didn’t hear anything about a fire.”

I relaxed fractionally. “No one’s hurt?”

“If they were, I haven’t heard about it.”

I exhaled with relief, then frowned. "Wait. What are you doing here?"

"Desten sent for me when you refused to come out."

"But, the barriers ..."

"They weren't going to refuse me entry.”

“I don’t think it was him, Desten 3, I don’t think. But I know killer Desten was here. It had to be him.”

“Unfortunately, as you’re a Varon and I’m a Sarosa, neither of us has the authority to access any information beyond what’s released publicly. Even if I were to make a formal request for the spectrums, they would have no reason to give them to me.”

That’s right. Leetan residents had primarily yellow-power as it was. It could have been any random mugging, as far as they knew.

I knew better. It wasn’t random. This may have started as some stupid dueling fad, but whatever killer Desten was up to, it was something beyond that now. Personal, political; perhaps both.

“I won’t even be able to leave until they lift the restrictions,” Pelys continued. “It was hard enough to get in.”

I regarded him curiously. “Why are you here? I thought you had a lot of other obligations besides running around after me?”

Pel sighed and shook his head. “I really should be mediating a meeting of the metalworking and weavers’ associations right now. But to be honest, they’ve been stalling each other for months and I’m kind of okay with making them both wait for once.”

“Sounds painfully boring. I don’t blame you for skipping it.”

Pelys hesitated. “Should I tell Desten you’re doing better?”

“… Yes. I am doing better.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “My power was going all sparkly and lightningy. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m not sure I was thinking at all, honestly.”

Pelys smiled, in a way that made me immediately back up another step. “So being in a stressful situation of imminent danger allowed you to strongly access your powers in a way you formerly could not accomplish?”

I groaned. “Pel…”

“I’m just pointing out the obvious precedent being set here. For someone as poorly-practiced as you to manage a wall that strong, while in your bubble, and with a full personal enhancement at the same time? It’s not unheard-of, but it’s hardly commonplace. Running more than two power strains at once is a requirement for reaching third. From what I’d seen before today, you’d barely rate first.”

“I don’t like painful, stressful situations! I very much despise them.”

“Would you rather die?”

I recoiled. “But we determined that no amount of training would be enough—”

“Listen. If it had been Desten 3. Think. If he’d realized that you knew. What would have happened? Do you think he’d have come to me for help? No. He’d have come after you immediately. He'd have smashed through your wall, and right now you’d be dead. But if you knew how to break walls and fully utilize your speed affinity? You could be away from here and halfway across the world before he even realized you were onto him.”

“I couldn’t. I’m not that strong.”

“That lightning around you, when it was happening, did you feel different at all? Like everything had slowed down?”

I thought back. It was hazy, but … “Yes, actually, I think it was like that.”

“That’s what power innately attuned to motion can do. It's what pink, like yours, is best at. Flame can give temporary boosts, but it’s much more adept at destruction. And nothing beats a Raysh in a marathon. And even if you overpulled and ended up with stonedrain again, it's better than dying.”

“I do see your point. But does it have to include such … realistic perils?”

“The best way to learn is by doing. And if you try to meditate your way into unlocking your full powerset, well, that’s what you’ve been doing your whole life and look how far it’s gotten you. It’s obvious that a change in tactics is in order.”

“Is this the whole reason you came? To coerce me into accepting your training again?”

Pel shook his head. “I told you I’d respect your decision. But I strongly believe that it would be in your best interests to continue.” He paused. “And, mine as well. If you do find Desten, and end up in a solo confrontation, you have to be able to escape and call the rest of us. None of us can beat him on our own. Enabling you to survive and training your innate affinity to a sufficient level that you can survive that is of paramount importance. We’ll continue investigating, but you’re the one who might recognize a face or a voice. You’re the one on the front line here. As much as I want justice for Fylen, I don’t want to see you die for it.”

I thought back over the past week. Boring, uneventful. Safe.

I liked boring and uneventful. I hated chaos and terror. I even found myself resenting Desten for calling Pelys in. If he weren’t here, I could go on pretending that I’d be fine. I could ignore this power and convince myself that information alone could make everything better. That training to fight would be an unnecessary waste of time.

But Pel was right. And he was standing, watching me. Calm, smug, eager, and right.

“Alright. You win. I’ll continue training. But not every day. I can’t do that, and I still need time to research. One day a week. Maybe two.”

“Then let’s begin.”

I backed up another step. “What, now? Here? Are you crazy?”

“Relax.” Pelys drew a cube of blue light around the corridor, sealing the two of us in the small enclosed space. “This won’t be dangerous at all.”