The capital of Caedril, the rising star, the everlasting light. Carsus. Home of the Carsus guild. Never yielding, always present.

  It was a typical morning for Altrean Quinn. A groggy one, followed by the snappy shuttering of automatic blinds. Steam hissed as sunlight poured in. It's time to wake up, and in Carsus, you are not late. Not if you're the son of the guild leader.

  The light felt warm against his dark skin, and agonizing to his eyes. He shot up, rubbing at them. Then hopped out of bed.

  "No, no, how long has it been since the blinds opened?" he muttered, stretching. His hands trembled slightly as he threw on the Carsus Guild uniform: black suit pants, dress shirt, and the vest with the shining crescent emblem of Carsus.

  His room was tidy. Sleek black wood walls, grey carpet, and shelves full of personal artifacts. All gifted to him by his father.

  Black, gray, yellow, white. The colors that dominated his life. The colors of Carsus. Emblems alone disrupted the palette. Your emblem was the color of your core—a seal that responded to the magic inside of you.

  He bounced haggardly toward the door, only to be met with it as it swung open with a swoosh and cracked against his face. He smelled iron. Looked up. Saw his worst nightmare.

  Martin Quinn. Leader of Carsus. Dressed to perfection in his uniform. Shaved head, golden brown eyes, an always tired expression. He looked down at Altrean, a flicker of disappointment and anger crossing his face.

  "If you'd awakened by now, you'd have known I was there," he said, voice soft but cutting. Then he turned and walked out.

  "Father, I—I'm sorr—"

  "Don't be sorry, Altrean. Be better."

  Lightning words. Altrean said nothing more. He followed. Time blurred as they made their way down to the lobby and into the training room.

  Light and shadow crackled, fire blazed—brilliant displays of magic erupted in every direction. All the most prominent members of Carsus were present. Known throughout Caedril for their exemplary ability and heroic nature.

  The room fell silent as he entered behind his father.

  "Master Martin," they all resounded, heads bowed.

  "Ragna, you're up. Don't be afraid to be rough with him," Martin said, grabbing Altrean and tossing him toward the center.

  Ragna, scarlet-haired and smirking, stepped forward. "Sure about this, Master? I wouldn't want to kill your son on accident."

  Martin chuckled. "Try and see if you can. I need him to awaken. I'm out of options. Maybe a fight with someone his own age—or a life-threatening situation—will help."

  Altrean gripped his wrists to stop the shaking. Of course Ragna would be here. He stood slowly, forcing down the anxiety.

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  Leland, a stout brown-skinned man in his 40s, took center between the two. He always had a sad look when he saw Altrean. Even now.

  "Round one, martial ability only. Begin."

  Customary in official guild matches. Altrean's hands steadied. He heard his mother's voice, her final lesson echoing in him.

  "You have strong instincts, like me, Altrean. So what if you haven’t awakened? You'll rule the world one day. Now put those hands up—show me if you can beat me this time. For real."

  Hands up. Watch the opponent. Ragna lunged—sloppy. Left side wide open. Strong magic, weak form.

  Altrean dodged the hook. Closed in.

  Jab. Jab. Retreat. Right hook.

  Ragna’s eyes widened. "What the fuck?"

  "What, nobody told you the kid could box? He's still Martin's son," someone in the crowd said, laughing. "Shame he hasn't awakened yet."

  Ragna shook his head, trying to shake the words. He was lazy, talented. Didn’t feel like he had to train. Another guild brat on the belt to success. He hated Altrean—not for being weak, but for being a stain on perfection.

  "Round one is over. Point to Altrean," Leland said, voice unamused. "Go on and get it over with, then."

  "Evolve."

  Ragna’s body ignited with magma. The ethereal form of a red-horned gecko crashed into him. "I'm going to enjoy this, Altrean."

  Altrean stepped back. Didn’t matter how good you were without a core.

  Hands crackled with molten fire.

  Altrean said nothing. This wasn't training. This was punishment.

  "Try it, Altrean. We won’t stop the match," Martin called.

  Leland glanced sharply, but said nothing. The others stared, waiting.

  "Go on, fail again, Altrean. Show everyone you don’t deserve anything you have," Ragna said, smiling. Flames cackling louder.

  Altrean’s mind went quiet.

  Very well.

  "Evolve," he said. Felt a pulse in his chest. Then—nothing. "E-Evolve!"

  Martin nodded. Ragna launched a fast ball of magma. Too quick. Altrean tried to deflect it, weak magic sparking. The attack hit his knee. It buckled.

  He screamed.

  Another ball struck his arm. Then his leg. Screams filled the room. Still he tried. Still he failed.

  "Martin!" Leland shouted, throwing up a barrier before another strike hit. "That’s enough. He’s had enough."

  "Time is what he’s had enough of," Martin said, waving him off. "Fine. Altrean, you’re to resign from the guild. And leave this place. Effective immediately."

  No response. Altrean couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even cry. Just sounds. Whimpering. Even Ragna flinched.

  Martin didn’t look back. He left.

  The guild returned to training. Leland approached slowly.

  "Ragna, get some spare clothes."

  He knelt by Altrean. Opened his mouth to say something—but Altrean looked at him. And he stopped.

  Altrean couldn’t see. Too many hits. Blood in his eyes. Sound muddled. But he heard the voice. The footsteps.

  "Officer Leland, I... I didn’t know the guild master would remove him," Ragna muttered.

  "You couldn’t have known. Nobody did."

  Altrean sat on the edge of the city steps now, dressed in spare rags. His face swollen. Hair burned. The crescent emblem, gone. He held it once before leaving. Didn’t have the strength to crush it. Just dropped it and walked.

  The city gate loomed ahead. Guards whispered. A few onlookers stared.

  Above him, a voice echoed from the comm-speakers:

  "Effective immediately, Altrean Quinn has been expelled from the Carsus Guild and forfeits all protections therein. He is no longer recognized as a citizen of Carsus."

  Silence followed. Then laughter.

  And then?

  Footsteps. From behind.

  And someone unsheathing a blade.