The soft churn of wheels through mud comforts my mind. Travelling once more with Rachel, I sit in the worn settee of a carriage destined back to Sapphire Academy.

My gains from the raid on the Wyatt clan cannot be called anything other than significant. Though I sacrificed a portion to the Black Parade, my fortunate, and fortunately, unexpected possession of a spatial storage ring allowed me to pillage to my heart's content while only disclosing a small portion of my gains to the avarice of both Sire and Huntress.

Huntress…

That woman…

I should have killed her when I had the chance. Had our battle not been disrupted by the unanticipated meddling of an, as of yet, unknown third party, I would have claimed her life and rid myself once and for all of her absurdity.

Even still, I can't claim to be dismayed by the results of my plundering. With the aid of my spatial storage ring, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say my gains far exceeds what could reasonably be expected from a raid on a low-tier Clan. Though their resources could never compare to that of even a mid-tier organisation, when concentrated in the hands of one man, it can be said to be a bountiful feast prepared for a single guest.

The pilfered coin alone is enough to support a family of mortals to the tenth generation. Though considering the expenses of advancement, had I left with only their wealth, I would have considered my earning merge. Fortunately, however, a Clan is not built on wealth alone.

The natural resources, recipes and formulae that the Wyatt Clan accumulated over the course of their existence is my real treasure. In order to avoid suspicion, I couldn't take it all, but what I did gain is by no means inconsequential. Of the loot that cannot aid me directly, I can trade or sell for the right price, but by good fortune, it would seem, the Wyatt Clan had some expertise in Body Tension.

A smile creeps to my lips. Of nine groups comprising Higher-form Tension, mind, body, life, and death are the most troublesome to cultivate. Looting from the Wyatt Clan a live griffon egg cannot be called anything other than providential. Had any in their Clan discovered a way of advancing into becoming a Body Tension Master, they could have absorbed the essence of the Tension Beast and manifested some of its attributes.

A buzz passes through me as the thought of developing a flying Art crosses my mind. Profiting so much in so little time? It's almost like Ember himself has stretched out his arms in order to profit me.

Shifting from the slush of muddied earth to the crisp grate of paved road, I can tell our journey has reached its final stage. In another hour or two, our three-day ride from Leafton back to the academy will come to an end.

Having expelled the corruption accumulated from the use of Tension through meditation on the first day of our coach ride. And, given the diminishing returns of meditation once I advanced into the third rank of my Tension Resistance, with nothing else to do but wait, every second of this journey was felt as if it had been weeks and months as opposed to hours and days. Straightening my back, a wave of comfort flows through me as I hear the crack and pop of my spine's realignment.

Minutes crawl by, and hours pass. The gallop of our carriage slows to a trot before finally, we come to a stop. While seated, I take my satchel from the floor of the buggy and stand to my feet. Unwilling to wait a moment longer, I push open the door and jump out. Mimicking my actions, Rachel comes to my side.

The coachman, with wooden steps in hand, stands before me. Returning the steps to the rear of the carriage, I pass him a golden coin.

'My Lord, this is far too much. Your fare amounts in coppers. You have already given me silver. I would have been grateful for any amount above the standard fare, but this-'. Falling to his knees, the man bows his head. Rachel taps him on the shoulder.

'My Lord is a very generous man', She says. 'He's a private man also. I trust this amount is enough to buy your discretion regarding our travels. If you can do this much, my lord will call upon your services again.'

'Of- of course, my lady. I am forever at your service, my lord.' Shakily, the man stands. Taking his place at the head of the coach, he whips the land-dragon tethered to the vehicle and takes his leave.

Walking, almost skipping, in front of me, Rachel pouts her lips forward. 'You've never given me a gold coin.'

'Don't you think you've extorted enough money from me?' Radiance bursts from her lips.

'There's no such thing as enough money, my lord.' Waving her hands dramatically, Rachel bows. Popping back into an upright position, she parts her lips and radiates the warmth of her smile in my direction.

'What's next for us, my lord?'

Us…

I pause.

Clearing my mind, I turn away from that girl and begin walking towards the golden gates guarding the entry of Sapphire Academy.

'My preparations are almost complete. With the gains I made in our raid of the Wyatt stronghold, it won't take me long before I'm ready to-'

'We're ready to', Rachel interrupts. 'I'm going with you, my lord. That is the deal we made. I've already cleared my service to you with the academy. Where you go, I go.' Turning my face to the right, I meet her amber eyes. With a slight nod of my head, her smile reignites.

'We are nearly ready to enter this academy's earth-bound Tower.'

'Is there anything you need of me, my lord?'

'Go to the mission board in the morning, register my party and take note of the missions that offer the greatest amount of ether-crystals. Bring that information back to me and prepare for yourself anything you might need for a journey lasting up to three months. Divide your luggage between what you can carry with you and what you want me to store in my spatial storage ring.' Chuckling softly, Rachel thrusts her hips sidewards, delicately bumping her side into mine.

'I think you might vastly overestimate exactly how much I to even take with me. You might be an exulted Escalade now, but try not to forget what it's like for us nameless. The little I make as a maid barely covers my contribution each year, and most of the coin I've gotten from you goes towards the contribution of the destitute in my village.'

Reaching my hand into my satchel, I retrieve from my purse gold.

'Take that and stock up on anything you might need. When you're finished with that, come find me. You're a mortal, but you still need a way of defending yourself. I'll prepare some items that you should be able to use.'

Squealing in what I assume is delight, Rachel pulls me into a hug before abruptly releasing me. 'Sorry, I know you don't like that.'

Dismissing her at the gates, I navigate the vastness of the academy grounds. Reaching my destination, a mountainous, pentagonal building faces me. Round dome adorning its crown, its coiled spire reaches out towards the heavens. Brick stacked on brick, the building emanates a golden hue. Its majesty rivalled only within the campus. Even now the sight of Sapphire's western library inspires jolts of awe within me.

Walking to the wooden door, I twist its onyx knob and push open the door. Illuminated by a gas-lit chandelier suspended on the ceiling of the interior of this immense structure, the library dances with light. Around each level of the open-plan building, lanterns supplement the glow from above. Shelves upon shelves of books pervade every sidewall, and a spiral staircase spreads from the bottom floor to the first, and another from the first to the second. The layout repeats itself all the way to the highest levels of this gargantuan monument.

Money exchanged, I'm permitted entry to the first six levels of the building. I scale the circling steps of the bottom floor and make my way to the highest level available to me. Walking the platform from shelf to shelf, I peruse the volumes until I find what I'm looking for.

"The art of sealing Arts: Volume III"

Pulling the tome from the bookcase. I take the book and move myself to the nearest desk. Joining the faint rustle of turning pages flickering from the other booths on the sixth floor of the library, I shift the paper of the book, scanning the pages until I arrive at chapter nineteen.

Drawing my notepad, a quill and a jar of black ink from my satchel, I copy down formulae and diagrams, conscious of the time allotted to my stay.

The two sets "attract unequal privileges." Though financially, nothing precludes my indefinite remain in the academy libraries. As a lower-set student, my library access is restricted to four hours per day. While the method of enforcement is unknown to me, it is a known fact that none in the lower-set has dared to challenge this rule. Needless to say, I won't either.

Closing my notepad, I gather my possessions, return the volume to the shelf it belongs to, and exit the library. Feet carrying me to the lower-set dormitories, I open my door and enter my dwelling.

Laying my notes on my desk and taking my seat, I study the intricacies of my research. Father grounded me with the basics of all fields of inquiry pertaining to the skill sets of a Tension Master. With his teachings, my knowledge regarding most subjects can only be described as profound for my age. However, given my youth, "profound for my age" is nothing I am able to rest my laurels on.

My fluency in multiple ancient scripts gives me a weighty advantage over my peers, but that advantage can only take me so far. Without ongoing study and improvement, it won't be long before the more affluent of the upper-set classes leave me far from their coattails.

Time ticks by as I examine my writings. With the resources in my possession, it should be possible to Omni-forge a Tension-weapon even morals can use.

Standing from my seat, I walk through my residence to my laboratory. Extracting from the haze of my storage ring, I place the necessary ingredients on a counter in my workshop.

Darmite metal, powdered razor-leaf, the bones of a mid-tier Tension Beast. Melting the resources in a crucible, I prepare concoctions from ground crystals and several different liquids. Lighting the Tension-coal in my Omni-forge, I carefully inscribe in the interlocking circles in front of the Omni-forge, a formula I had copied into my notebook.

I pour both the liquid mixtures I had prepared and the molten metal and bones into the circles. They hover in the air. Orbiting each other, the two balls of fluids suspended over my central counter increase their velocity. Spinning rapidly, the two orbs draw closer and closer to each other until they collide, melding into a single shape of fluctuating liquid.

The fluid condenses and hardens. Taking on a new form, what had once been a sphere of molten darmite falls to the counter, an alabaster, curved dagger.

I hold the blade in my hand, feel the weight of it, examine its inscriptions. It's perfect. A mid-tier Tension-weapon capable of holding up to three set Arts. Once depleted, the blade will shatter, but for a mortal like Rachel, the use of even a single Art could mean the difference between life and gory end in our expedition of the academy's Tower.

A rap on my door cuts through my thoughts. Exiting my laboratory, I stand beneath the archway of my bedroom. The door to my dormitory creeps slowly open. Wide eyes plead with mine as Rachel inches into my residence. Over her neck, the edge of a blade.

Door fully open, standing behind Rachel holding a knife to her throat, a lunatic.

Huntress.

'Hello, my sweet boy. I hope you don't mind if I make myself at home?'