Cooper traipsed back inside after morning combat practice. Only cycling his mana allowed the limp noodles his limbs had become to keep him upright. It was the first time since his very early days in the sect that the exercise was led by Laurel and not Martin. Laurel’s style was more cheerful. She smiled, and all her words were congratulatory, starkly different from Martin’s harsh exhortations to try harder. Cooper should be forgiven for having guessed that would make for an easier lesson. He was wrong. So very wrong. Instead of the shouted insults they’d gotten used to, they were treated to ‘encouragements’ like “oh I’m so happy your cultivation has gotten strong enough that you don’t feel the need to run quickly” and “such brave students to be stopping before I’ve called a halt”. All of it spoken with a manic smile, and carried to their ears on unnatural wisps of wind. The end result was Cooper wishing for questions of his manhood that he’d gotten used to.

  At least it worked. His mana felt invigorated, while the rest of him was wrung out like a used towel.

  He was still sagging against the wall when Laurel entered, along with Leander, who had stayed back when the rest came inside. Cooper was impressed the younger boy could talk to Laurel so casually. He liked Laurel, was glad to have her as a leader, but he hadn’t been part of the sect for very long before the leviathan attacked. It was hard to casually chat with someone that could rip giant monsters apart with the power of her mind. Martin was usually more formal with the students, which made things easier in some sense. Cooper was used to professors and fathers being a higher authority, and he didn’t have to work to figure out how to talk to them. Interacting with Laurel always felt like he was just a little bit on edge. All his instincts of a formal education said he should be bowing and thanking her after every lesson, never complaining. But a few days of lessons with Rebecca and Leander had shown him she really didn’t care, she would just keep pushing them no matter what.

  “You’ve chosen your path, now you need to figure out the best way to walk it. For you, not for anyone else.”

  “I want to try,” the cold, dead voice of Leander’s stone spoke in response to whatever Laurel was saying.

  “We’ll do some practice then. Affinity isn’t something you can pinpoint. Even if you forcibly aspect to something you don’t feel a connection to, it will most likely evolve in a direction that more aligns with who you are. Okay? Don’t give me that look. I don’t want you to think you have to do exactly what I’ve done.

  “Fine. Let anyone else with open meridians know. We’ll do it twice a year for now. More frequently than that is going to cost contribution points.”

  Their Sectmaster went off after that in the direction of Annette’s office.

  “Hey Leander,” Cooper called out, his voice low, not wanting to pull Laurel back.

  The boy looked conflicted as he walked over. This was getting ridiculous.

  “It’s okay, we’re allowed to talk to each other, the princesses haven’t gone that far yet.”

  That got him a smile as Leander joined him, leaning against the wall and then sliding down until they both sat against the flagstones. The silence was comfortable, broken only by soft breathing and distant humming, and something both of them had lacked in recent weeks.

  “What were you talking to Laurel about?” Cooper finally asked the question he’d called the boy over for.

  “Mana affinity. Laurel says anyone can aspect their mana to anything, but some are harder to start with, and if it doesn’t line up with your goals for cultivation or personality, it is difficult to advance them.”

  That was more words than Cooper recalled Leander ever using his stone for at one time. His mana control must be insane. Cooper reminded himself that Leander had been cultivating for longer than he had, even if Cooper was almost a decade older.

  “What are you aiming for then that you need to test?”

  “Air. Lightning. Metal.”

  That made a bit more sense with Laurel’s advice about “walking your own path”. He had to give it to the lad for ambition.

  “Well, good luck then. Helene and Gabrielle have been pouring over the contribution store. Just a single treasure for aspecting mana is going to cost quite a bit, I don’t envy you saving for three.”

  They sat in silence once again until Leander gave him a nod and an awkward shoulder pat before he left. Cooper barely noticed. He was stuck in a spiral of his own thoughts. First he trekked around the country with Eric, who at fifteen already had a set path he wanted to pursue. Then Gabrielle and Helene showed back up with ideas not just for their own cultivation, but for how they could complement each other as a team, not to mention a plan to get there. Now Leander, who couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen, was working out how he could follow in their ancient hero of a Sectmaster’s footsteps.

  Was it him? Was he broken? How did everyone else already know what they wanted out of life?

  Cooper was twenty-three. He’d gone to university, he’d traveled with his parents and siblings, seen the world and experienced new things. Yet he was the one floundering. All he could really say was that he wanted to have adventures, and see all the amazing magic in the world.

  Maybe Laurel’s testing thing would give him some direction.

  **********

  Laurel was getting used to the long walk through the palace to a nondescript door. From what she could tell, the servants had never led her though the exact same route twice, and the number of identical conference rooms hidden throughout the building was impressive. She played along even though no one was fooled by the circuitous detours. A quick thank you to the servant was enough and she let herself in, finding the council in discussion of logistics surrounding the new air barges. She entered and took the empty seat in front of a still-steaming cup of tea, listening in.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Merchants are still viewing it as something of a novelty, though some of the smaller operations have begun using them to ship up from the docks. Cheaper than a gilded porter. The majority of users have been pedestrians. Many riding for an amusement, but we have reports of some regulars using the floats for regular commutes,” Madam Curson wrapped up her report.

  “Thank you, that is promising, along with the approval of the new defensive measures. Let us turn to Madam Stormblade’s request to join this meeting.”

  King Edward was in what passed for informal wear, from what Laurel had seen of the man. Which was still embroidered within an inch of the velvet’s life. The others were all arrayed as usual, the Skycrests to the king’s right, with Mansfeln and Curson to his left, the Skycrests having started to fly back once a month to liaise with the rest of the council.

  Attention turned to her and she took a breath to prepare. Annette, Adam, Martin, and her had discussed at length how to sell the next stage of City Core development. They were leaning heavily on the ingrained concern about Laskar’s expansion. When Martin and Adam got back they should have more confirmation of how far the foreign Cities had progressed, but they couldn’t wait what could be months for that information. Laurel was relying heavily on salesmanship and politics, not her strongest areas.

  “Thank you, your Majesty. I’m glad to hear we are seeing positive reactions to the new additions to the mana network. I requested this meeting to discuss the next stage of Core development.”

  “Ah, yes I’ve been so very curious about what comes next. Especially after your light show with the dome,” Theresa gushed.

  “Traditionally a Village would become a Town by anchoring the major mana flows with natural treasures when there were only a few thousand residents. The light show didn’t used to be so impressive, but with all the mana flowing through Verilia, well, you saw,” Laurel explained, taking a sip of her tea.

  “What comes next is…different,” she continued. “It doesn’t just depend on the sect. In fact it goes beyond the people in this room as well. The major requirement for a Town to become a City is people.”

  “‘People’ is not a resource we lack,” the king said. He was watching Laurel like she was a wild animal and he was unsure of what direction the attack would come from. “Is it?”

  “There are plenty of people living in the city, but for the Core’s development they would need to bind themselves to the city voluntarily.”

  “Bind themselves, as in they couldn’t leave?” Madam Curson looked up from where she was taking notes.

  “No, not at all. It’s basically just saying this is where they live. It allows the Core to leverage some of the mana generated by the official citizens, but they can break the bond at any time. Or create a new bond with a different Core, which does the same thing.”

  “There’s no way we can force our people to do that,” Mansfeln said. The man was halfway out of his chair before a gesture from the king had him sitting back down.

  “No, it’s not like that –”

  “Was this how things worked in your time, why would anyone agree to have some magic thing grafted onto their soul? Is this just a way for your group to gain power over the regular people?” The irate general continued.

  “I have to admit, I’m concerned as well,” Ridge added.

  “The logistics for something like that would be overwhelming,” Curson said.

  The whole conversation was spiraling further away from Laurel’s careful plan. Ridge was frowning, Mansfeln half a breath from attacking her, and Curson’s lips were pursed closed, which Laurel had learned was the equivalent to violent swearing from anyone else. Theresa didn’t react at all, but the woman was inscrutable when she wanted to be.

  “That’s enough.”

  All eyes went back to the king.

  “Now, let’s all calm down for a moment. Madam Stormblade, I must admit to sharing some of the general’s concerns. It sounds like you are asking my people to swear allegiance in a magically binding fashion, to a construct most haven’t heard or conceived of. And through that, in some sense they would be swearing to you. Can you explain?”

  “Thank you again, your Majesty. I’d be happy to. I don’t know if the issue is one of translation or culture, but in my time, this was an uncontroversial thing. People simply bound themselves to the place they lived. If they moved, they bound themselves to the new place. There is no danger. It just redirects a person's mana a bit. If someone isn’t a cultivator of any sort they won’t notice. They might even benefit. There are reports that the influence of a Core keeps those in its domain healthier, helping them live longer. Such things are hard to prove but likely the case. There are a few scenarios in which we can draw energy from citizens, but those are unlikely.

  “More importantly, and I hope the whole council listens to this with an open mind, we cannot afford to ignore the Core progression.”

  She sent a look around the table, lingering on Mansfeln.

  “Maybe you don’t want the benefits of a fully developed City Core. The teleportation, the instant communication, the wonders you haven’t even thought to ask for. Maybe you don’t care about accessing knowledge and history from around the world, and worlds beyond our own. Maybe deeper links to cosmic mana flows aren’t something you think we need.

  “But there are other people in the world that do care. The Laskarians are searching for natural treasures. Whatever the group that put us in this situation is calling themselves, they know that if they control the cosmic mana then they have a stranglehold on the world itself. If they can establish Laskar City or anywhere else as a World Capital, then we will be at their mercy.

  “Beating them there is the only option.”

  “So it's just one more day where we have to listen to what you say or our entire society will collapse,” Mansfeln said.

  The king held up a single hand and silenced the man once more. “Do you have any proof of these claims?”

  “No,” Laurel bit out. “As you know, I have not returned to Laskar recently. Martin will have proof when he gets back in a few months.”

  “Very well,” the king said. “When he returns we will re-evaluate. For now, we do not feel comfortable ordering the people of Verilia into such a contract.”

  “We don’t have time–”

  “That is our decision.” The king cut off Laurel’s protests. “However, if you wish to pursue this course as an independent organization, we will not hinder you. And we will publicly verify the process is safe.”

  Laurel looked at Theresa in desperation. “Surely you can see the necessity of what I’m describing.”

  “I’m sorry Laurel.” She looked it too, not that it helped. “I believe you, but we can’t just force people into this.”

  “This is a delicate matter. If the palace is seen as pushing too hard, the nobles can leverage that to improve their own standing on other manners. It is a delicate balance we must keep.” The king continued. “I am personally inclined to believe you. And were it entirely within my power, we would take any lead we have and extend it as fast as possible. But it is not. I am answerable to the Parliament of Nobles, and the Guild Council as well. If we try and force the issue, the response from those groups will be catastrophic. I do not think a political coup would be in the best interest of Core advancement either.”

  There would be no further victory here today. Laurel could see it in the way the councilors were turning ever so slightly away, closing themselves off from any argument she could make. The king had slipped back into the royal form of address, none of the others could maintain eye contact. Except of course for Mansflen, who was staring like he could read her mind if he squinted hard enough. It was time to go.

  “Thank you for the time. And the assistance. It will be invaluable. When Martin returns I will bring you further information.”

  She didn’t linger in the palace after that. In the first courtyard she came to, she leapt into the air, pulling on a tendril of mana to bring her higher and higher, until the whole city was spread out beneath her like a children’s toy set. This high up it was mostly quiet. The constant thrum of a lively city couldn’t reach her. If she squinted, she could just make out a golden haze, the ambient mana distorted by over a million lives, saturating the city. A part of her regretted that she had forced Annette into leaving for a while. The Quartermaster’s experience and talent for political battles would be pivotal with only partial support from the palace. Laurel crushed the feeling down. She would discuss with Annette and then send the woman on her way. Laurel refused to cripple her friend’s cultivation for an easier battle.

  With a bare wisp of willpower, Laurel swooped down the hill and back to the sect house. There was always more work to do.