---

Crystal did a quick headcount. It seemed that everyone was safe, Chie included, and she could now see the enemy as well as it appeared on the ground. As it stood there, everyone could see it form three more of the balls of power that put a hole in the tower. If those hit anyone, it was game over. And judging from what she saw when Selma had countered one, they were liable to explode on impact as well. Which meant...

Despite her history of training for battle, when it came down to her first real fight as an Ars Magi, the safest strategy slipped her mind. Not knowing exactly how to summon her elementum in such a way as to be useful at the moment, she instead rushed forward, heading directly towards the first projectile. She saw Chie's two chakram fly past her to hit two of the missiles as she ran. Crystal turned her body so that the ball was to her right and swung out with her Gladius, extending its reach with a rod of ice, striking it and causing it to explode long before it reached the others. Unfortunately, she was still within the blast radius and was sent flying back, skidding to a stop a short ways in front of the evacuees with a damaged right arm and some torn off skin from the slide.

This is getting to be a bad pattern. Crystal thought to herself as she pushed off with her left arm and leapt to her feet. It looked like two other Ars Magi had appeared, one riding a wave of water and another having punched the Void to the ground. Soon the water user tore through the Void's leg, and it appeared the Chie was holding the damn thing in place with her power.

"Attack it... while I've... got it locked up!"

Crystal looked up; the meteor that was Selma was still a few moments away, but Chie looked like she couldn't hold it for much longer. Instinct instead of strategy took over and Crystal's form blurred to those watching as she bolted towards the Void.

It took only an instant to reach it, the gravity around it holding it in place forcing Crystal to stop short, but she was well within range by now. The poor facsimile of life tried to attack, but it was too late. Hiems had already pierced its core, glittering particles of ice flowing in its wake. And if that didn't finish it off, well...

Crystal rolled out of the way of the incoming crash, pulling Hiems from the ice sculpture that was her foe, certain that the impact would finish what she started if it somehow survived her attack.

Three detonations resound across the empty streets, one after another. The first two spheres pop when they’re shorn through by Chie’s chakrams, two small explosions that leave behind wispy trails of black smoke. Crystal handles the third, the last blast ringing out as her weapon collides with the projectile, leaving her injured for her trouble.

The Void is in far worse shape though. When Aoife demands that it kneel the monster has little choice in the mater, the jet of water channeled by the newly arrived Ars Magi striking its leg and sheering through its dark flesh with the sheer force of the current. The creature pitches forward, brought low from the powerful blow.

Its arm rises again, slowly, and slower still as Chie’s magic begins to take effect. The weight of gravity bears down on the Void, gripping and holding it tight as the seconds tick by. Long enough for Crystal to engage it, her sword thrusting deep into the spindly monster’s core. Frost quickly begins to form and blanket the tall monster’s dark form, and soon it’s entombed in a shell of ice, frozen from the core outward.

And when Selma arrives it shatters, fracturing into frozen chunks when the green-haired girl collides with it.

“Gottem!” The blonde girl, Noel, announces with a pump of her armored fist.

This time it doesn’t reform. There’s a few seconds of pregnant silence before an operator’s voice crackles to life in Aoife’s ear: “Spike is gone. Nox levels are dropping—diffusers are back online. You’re clear.” The message comes through to the rest of the girls and their original operators soon after, once radio channels are switched over.

---

It wasn't the longest fall in the world— not by the standards of the entirety of humanity's history of dancing within the wind. She had learned in her History education that commercial aircraft had broken up mid-flight before (for one reason or another), and some crew had subsequently survived falls from heights cresting the even the highest mountaintops that few dared climb. A couple hundred feet down an observation tower, by comparison, was stepping off a curb onto the street.

And yet the wind still seemed to buffet her face for an eternity as she looked at Mother Earth surging up to meet her from below, the vertigo she'd contended with on the edge left far behind. The screech of metal on stone drowned out a lot of the noise that wasn't the heavy bass rumbles of a shockwave loosed by the thunderous powers at work below, but luckily Rivka's voice (musical as you'd guess) managed to carry over, if only just.

A crucible? Doable. Made sense, even! Trap the spindly bitch in a bunch of rock and then charbroil it where it couldn't escape— a good, simple, yet brutally effective plan. If Selma were to opine, her favorite kind of 'em.

But the other half of their embattled quartet had plans of their own, and where already there, quick on the draw. By the time Selma had clocked what was happening, the spindly creature of night had been broken by the tide, crushed under its weight, and then...

Crystal plunged Hiems into its chest, and from that single impalement blossomed a glacial flow, a sheet of diamond that ensconced their foe, leaving it paralyzed in its hunched, defeated posture as the bitter cold carried it to a final rest that not even the poisonous levels of Nox could rouse it from. Poised and cool-headed, the twintailed blunette wasted no time in ripping her blade free of her defeated prey.

Oh! They got it taken care of, nice!

Her grip, at a point only some three or four dozen feet away from the finish line, suddenly skipped and loosened as her gauntlets passed over an unexpected change in texture. Blankly, the big girl's supernatural speed put itself to work as she glanced up to realize that a piece of steel rebar, intended to reinforce the concrete that had been shorn away by some point of the battle, had crossed her path.

Ah.

She then realized that this skip had knocked her into open space— coincidentally, right above a shiny, glittery, and kind of spiky looking ice sculpture and oh verdammt no no no no WAIT WAIT WAIT GYAAAAAAAA—

Less than a second later, a blur of green, brown, and silver made impact, a crash of disintegrating ice heralding a colossal THUD that threw up a small, nearly cartoonish plume of dust into the air, mixed with the sparkling points of albedo from the many icy bits of what used to a Void.

“Gottem!” The blonde girl announces with a pump of her armored fist.

In her ear, her the radio operator's crisp tone sounded. "—vels are dropping—diffusers are back online. You’re clear."

A shaky, mostly embarrassed thumbs up greeted the team on the ground as it rose out of the settling cloud of particulate, which gave way to a very uncharacteristic warble from their now somewhat bloodied tree. Her forehead, having cracked against a seven-foot mass of ice and then the much larger planet it stood on, had split open with a shallow cut above the left eyebrow. Nothing serious as far as she could tell, but...

"Yeaaah, go teeeeeeam..."

She was gonna take herself a second and shake that one off, as it were.

---

Wonderful! Perfect!

The tips of her fingers, arms still spread wide, swung to and fro as though coordinating a beautiful symphony. The ebb and the flow, the rise and the fall, the rhythm within the chaos. There was a pattern to it, a beauty. It wasn't a careful, perfect Classical piece; it was Romantic, with all of the rough edges and complex strands that bared the very soul of its performers. And hers, oh hers would be the brightest!

The new girl was perfect, a new instrument to the piece facing the monster with poise and power! Ahhh, her addition would round them out, smooth away the gaps and imperfections until they were a perfect performance. But now, in this moment, it was her spotlight! The devushka would confine it, with strong earthen walls and she would burn it just as the joy burned within her. Oh, this was living! Hell's attacks were parried, Selma fell from above, the strands came together and melded, building and building and building to that perfect crescendo for her to punctuate with-

The beast shattered, and her mood with it.

Crushed with as much finality as Selma's landing, and her perfect performance was finished with a fucking off-note, off-key crash. Her grand finale smothered in its crib, a track cut off right before the climax. How unsatisfying. Her joyous grin curdled, fading into neutrality as her arms lowered. In place of joy she had only sore ankles. She scuffed her shoe against the ground and kicked an icy fragment, grinding the next nearest under her foot as though the Void were responsible for the massacre of her vibe.

Hmph.

"Who's the..." She stopped, voice flat and ruffled. Rivka jerked her thumb at their new arrivals by way of explanation, deciding the words she had chosen wouldn't be very... Diplomatic. Then she nudged the fallen tree (quite a sound with her toe without looking."You. Who are you? Up, devushka, you're making us look bad."

---

Aoife watched the final blows dealt to the void with her pulse in her throat. Begging her to take further action where none was needed. A crystalline blossom of ice spindling outwards where the figure had once stood. A calmness began to wash over her as she settled into a mindset of a job well done. The water carefully let her down, loosely sloshing in the shape of a hand of a deity, carefully lowering Adam back to his mortal coil.

Through her control of the water, while it passed over her form it did not cling or linger. She remained perfectly dry as her feet made contact with cement once more and she regarded her new comrades. She felt more and more of personality wash over her. Returning in waves as her bloodlust and adrenaline slowly left her mind.

A mountain of a girl landed hard, impacting the ground and sending vaporized ice scattering around them as Aoife threw up her hands to cover herself from the oncoming ice.

The monster was entirely gone now. Nothing remaining but the still dangerously high Nox levels and her fellow Ars Magia.

The green-haired girl gripped her knees, seemingly winded after falling so far onto the frozen structure, Aoife could understand that. Before long, however, she was joined by another girl with light lilac hair that cascaded perfectly across her back.

Unlike the girl before her, this one landed with the grace of a maestro calling for the end of a performance. An Olympic dismount, as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and regarded Aoife directly. Her charisma washed over Aoife, as she looked on at the girl now scanning her up and down.

Hmph.

Something of an unimpressed scoff, though the source of that ire was nearly implacable. Whether it was her mint-coloured partner, or the new arrival, no one could say. Finally, their eyes landed on one another. They took a moment to regard each other before once more the lilac lady spoke.

"You. Who are you? Up, devushka, you're making us look bad."

Aoife looked behind her, as if she wasn’t expecting to be spoken to before coming to the conclusion that this conversation was indeed meant for her.

She nodded, as if to acknowledge the fairness of the question. Her hands unconsciously sunk into her outfit, retrieving a small lollipop, which quickly found its way into her mouth. Her lips peeled back into a toothy grin, clenching around the treat which stuck out from her mouth.

“Hey! My name is Aoife Sturmgaard, Nice to meet you two babes!” The somewhat severe voice that she spoke in prior when they were in combat had vanished, giving way to an extremely casual, if not overly familiar, demeanor.

Motes of ice are caught up in a sudden gust of wind that rustles through the abandoned district, blowing the remains of the Void and other small debris across the empty street.

The blonde-haired girl that arrived with Aoife turns her attention to the four that had begun the fight, flashing a toothy smile before she introduces herself: “Noel Nilsson, here to save the day. Glad we could help you out, right?” She reaches a hand out to clasp Aoife’s shoulder briefly, giving it a hearty shake before her gaze turns to the other girls once again.

“Hey, you don’t look so good.” The lightning Ars Magi turns to Chie, long strides bringing her toward the injured girl. “You need help getting back? I can give you a hand.”

Earpieces buzz as operators begin to coordinate again, instructing the candidates to return with Aoife and Noel to their tower. There’s a few injured operators who require assistance to do so, but soon the trek begins to the rendezvous point. There’s time to talk along the way, and the going is slow enough that it isn’t strenuous on the wounded.

---

"S-Selma?!" Chie yelled out in surprise and worry as the giant among them crashed into the pavement. Chie's increased gravity was still in effect, meaning Selma crashed into the floor harder than she had any right to. This prompted Chie to hurriedly try and reverse the effects, which took a moment. She wanted to rush over and check to see if her friend was okay, but the girl's knees were giving out and buckled under the exhaustion. Chie's transformation became undone, the now-mundane girl having to rest her hands onto the ground for support as to not completely collapse on the spot.

She needed a moment to catch her breath, that much was certain. Chie was content with letting Rivka take the lead in talking to the two new people, occasionally glancing Selma's direction to make sure nothing was wrong. The latter still seemed lively enough, so her ars magi form must've been sturdy enough to withstand most of the blow. It was an admittedly small relief, but a relief nonetheless. One of the two new arrivals- one Noel Nilsson- seemed to take notice of Chie.

“Hey, you don’t look so good.” Noel said. She gave Chie an offer that was hard to refuse, going: “You need help getting back? I can give you a hand.”
"M... mhm. That'd be nice," Chie replied back. She lifted herself up using Noel's outstretched arm, then used Noel's shoulders as a support to be able to walk steady. Chie couldn't really tell, but she looked pretty pale. Her wound was still open, so she must've been bleeding the entire time. It was a small miracle she could stand at all.

The walk back was slow, but that was for the best. Chie was pretty weakened. She was getting a little sick of gritting her teeth to ignore the pain, so as to try distracting herself some other way, the normally-quiet girl took a moment to go out of her usual character and start up a conversation by herself.

"That... void that attacked us," she began her talk, "it was stronger, right? Why do you think it showed up?" Chie asked to nobody in particular. "And..." she continued, "could an even stronger one have come out back there?"

---

Fiiiiiine.

Seemed everyone was unhappy that Miss Rosmarie was lying around on the job. Saaaaaame as it ever was... Right down to getting nudged in the ribs by the grumpiest ones. Fiiiiiiiiine.

"Hup!" came the incredibly dissonant chirp from the mouth of the felled Pine before the congregation, accompanied by the rush of air and a stern thud as she sprung up from the ground and onto her feet. She made a quick effort to brush any errant dust from the collision off her shoulders, before folding her arms in front of her and puffing up her chest as the selfsame easy grin that was so common on her face burst to life.

"Yo! Name's Selma! Pleasure to drop in."

...

As if on stage, the silence hung in the air for a very pregnant moment while the warm wetness slid down from her eyebrow. Only the faint echoes of her booming proclamation sounded through the street, reminders that ears still worked, while the eyes focused themselves and the descending streak of ruby.

Wait.

"eheheh, uh oh." A hand, still benefitting from the blistering speed of a transformation, flashed up as she wiped away the crimson before it hit her eye. She'd heard that head wounds and scrapes bled a lot, but were they really that fast?! Sheesh! "scheiss, that's gonna be annoying— So, yeah, good to meet you too, Aoife, Noel! I'm a little sad you finished it off so quick, fighting's fun and all, but it's probably for the best before more people got hurt."

The words tumbled out of her mouth, end over end and just a sight short of breathless as she valiantly fought to keep the show rolling in spite of the one-woman Three Stooges act that had found its way into her script. All the while, her hand remained pressed against the left side of her skull, applying pressure more than reacting to any real pain. After a moment's commiseration further, the assembled Ars Magi in the making began to walk back to the LZ.

"That... void that attacked us, it was stronger, right? Why do you think it showed up?" Chie asked to nobody in particular. "And..." she continued, "could an even stronger one have come out back there?"

"Eh... Maybe. Didn't they say the Nox was spiking unexpectedly on the radio? There shoulda been only so much around to begin with, so..."

Bereft of the necessary technical know-how to find a proper conclusion, Selma arrived at a shrug, before cockily smirking.

"Betcha if we all jumped it we could still take 'im, though. Poor Rivka didn't even get to combo attack with me before this one bit it!"

She threw an arm around the pouty Russian's shoulder, consciously avoiding getting any blood on her cloudlike lilac curls or black-and-violet ensemble. Snickering, shooting a sly glance Crystal and Chie's way, the devilish devushka beamed as her Cheeky Big Sister Energy came to the fore.

"Doooooon't pout, fraulein! We'll get the next one!"

"You were slow." The Baeterraen accused with a severity that only increased with baseless accusations that she was pouting. "The setup was perfect, and you ruined the timing you neuklyuzhaya devushka. And now you're bleeding you fool."

The arm around her shoulders had required a certain degree of bend to the towering tree, a bend Rivka mercilessly exploited to yank her a little lower and flick her green hair aside. One couldn't quite call the motion contemptuous but she certainly was irritated. She flicked her fingers through the pine needles until she found the source of the flow and pursed her lips. What she wanted to do was cauterize it, give the devushka a drink and it would be fine. A little home first aid never hurt anyone. But that might have been considered rude, and cruel, and hazardous to their friendship so she declined. What she did do was generate a small, controlled flame at the end of her finger as hot as she could manage and held it a few inches off of her scalp for a few moments; just long enough to encourage the blood to dry and clot, gently and naturally stemming the flow. A proper medic would no doubt stitch it up but now she wouldn't drip the whole way back to the tower.

"I wish a stronger one had shown up. How can I get truly, passionately prepared to do battle when the opposition crumbles so easily? So disappointing. I had my debut, give me something resonant." She did not give Chie the same examination, because after a moment she decided she would take it even worse than the giant did. The lightning Ars Magi was assisting her- whatever her name had been- and was perfectly able to stem the flow should it be necessary. Or Crystal could, for that matter, but frostbite would probably be worse than a burn come to that. Hmph. There was just no pleasing everyone. "Chie, are you bleeding badly? And how are you feeling, Crystal?"

"And have you," She turned her attention to Aiofe, regarding her intently and with great skepticism. Her demeanor had changed so quickly, and Rivka could not quite decide why. The heat of battle? A concealed mean streak? Had the conclusion left her disappointed, as well? Many questions, and none of them answered. Least of all where she had come from or how she and the other one had arrived so quickly after the Void appeared. Was it perhaps not as accidental as it seemed? Was she trying to steal Rivka/s rightful spotlight? Of course not, no one could.

But she looked to be an acceptable accompaniment to her majesty. At least so far.

"got another one of those?"

---

There was a burst of sparkling blue as Crystal's transformed state reverted to her natural one and Hiems seemed to melt away. Her right arm hurt a little, but it was practically nothing. Much more concerning was that she apparently had a predisposition towards letting herself hurt her limbs in such a way. Still, she could move it just fine and without much pain, so she was sure it would heal just fine.

"Chie, are you bleeding badly? And how are you feeling, Crystal?"

Crystal gave a thumbs up in response with one hand while the other dug into her pocket for a piece of raspberry gum. There was something about raspberry's flavor that lent itself well to post-workout, or post-battle in this case. With the password accepted, she felt the stress of combat melt away just as her Gladius had and turned to observe the new girls. First was 'Noel Nilsson,' the girl who had punched the Void, hard enough to send it flying a few feet, for that matter. Electric Elementum, from what she saw, which (fittingly enough) sparked a mild interest in the girl. But more than that was the other Ars Magi, this 'Aoife Sturmgaard.' Her name, her Elementum of water, her apparent proclivity towards a long-lasting candy, even her mannerisms and speech patterns... There was something that made it so that Crystal couldn't look away from the girl, observing her with a cold calmness to see what she did next.

That is, until the spell was broken and she processed what Rivka had said. Too slow? She was falling. And does that mean... Then, as if she was thinking backwards, other comments filtered into her mind. 'Drop in?' Crystal's eyelids half closed in what could best be described as a lack of being impressed by the pun. Again working backwards, she glanced at Chie. Theoretically the smaller ones we fought could have been a larger one instead. Perhaps it's best I don't mention that. she thought to herself. And finally...

"Sorry." She said quietly, almost too quiet to hear, to no-one in particular.

The trip back to the second staging area is a short, several minutes walk before the group reaches one of the still intact towers. Noel supports Chie as they move, and a pair of medics begin fussing over the girl’s wounds once she’s brought into the tower. There are several other girls there, members of Aoife and Noel’s group that remained behind while the former two were sent to provide support.

Once Chie is deemed in as fair condition as she’s going to get and the remaining operators confirm there are no further abnormalities in the test zone the operation is declared a success and the cadets are packed into an APC to begin their trip back to Nova Lux.
There’s a small debriefing following the operation upon return to the academy, both for each girls’ individual test and the attack afterward. It consists mostly of checking to make sure their wounds aren’t too grievous, along with a short medical examination and psychological evaluation. More of what they’ve come to expect so far, though the process is at least less invasive than their previous examinations.

Chie receives the most attention, taken to the academy’s medical center to get stitched and bandaged up. She has some company there, several other girls who’ve taken more severe injuries during their exercises. None are fatal, but there are a decent number that’ll take some time to recover from. Chie is, thankfully, not the worst of the bunch.

No matter their physical condition, every girl receives the same news:

“Congratulations cadet. Today you are an Ars Magi.”



That evening the cafeteria is buzzing with energy, a dozen newly minted Ars Magi swapping stories of their transformations and the events of the day. By now a few of those faces are familiar, seen around the common area and dorms over the past few days. Some of the cadets also bear new wounds, all carefully bandaged up. There’s no particularly grievous injuries on display, but anyone seriously hurt is still in the infirmary.

The main topic of discussion this evening seems to surrounds the appearance of the higher-powered Voids in the testing ground. Apparently there was more than one incident over the course of the day:

“That’s not supposed to happen, is it?” Asks one of the cadets.

“We didn’t see anything like that.” Another replies.

“Do you think they let the big ones in on purpose?” A third asks.

The sound of chatter echoes through the cafeteria, stories and gossip frantically passed before it comes time to return to the dorms.

---

---

The hallway was empty, deserted, save for Chie's shambling figure. She kept her hand against the wall for support, inching forward step by exhausting step. Chie was in no real condition to be allowed a discharge from the infirmary, especially not without some kind of support or guidance. Despite that, with nothing but the tight bandages wrapped underneath her clothes, she continued to make her way to the cafeteria. Chie wasn't very assertive, but she could put up a brave front. Only when nobody was looking would she let show just how much of a wreck her figure was. As long as the girl could keep straight and still be half aware of her surroundings, that was good enough for her.

When people began to come into view, Chie pushed herself up straighter and began to walk without support. It made her dizzy to try, and the gash in her back still made her ever-so-tempted to flinch from the flashes of pain. Still, she greeted the hall monitors with a smile, signalling nothing wrong to the outside. The only clue would be her pale, pale face.

The cafeteria she arrived at was, as expected, already filled to the brim with chatter. Most students had already long-since began eating and socializing- which was not entirely unexpected, seeing as Chie was meant to have arrived there several minutes prior. The first thing Chie needed to secure was a spot to sit, but as luck would have it, she noticed her group of friends were eating together with a spot left open. She didn't know if it was a coincidence, or if they'd left it open for her. Either one was fine, really.

A little bit later, having walked unsteady with her tray, Chie managed to secure that open spot. She greeted the group with "Good evening, everyone." Chie then noticed a mildly-familiar face among them. "Oh, you're... Aoife, right?" she said, having remembered the girl from earlier in the day. "I didn't get to tell you back in the city, but... thank you for helping us."

Chie cast her eyes down, back at the food in front of her. She was a pretty slow eater normally, but right now she hadn't so much as even touched it. She didn't particularly look okay, but aside from the lack of appetite, Chie tried to not let it show too much. She thought to start some conversation so nobody would get a chance to ask, either.

"Earlier, they told me I cleared my test. I'm... no, we're Ars Magi now. It's almost a little surreal how fast it all went." Chie remarked. "I'm still having trouble accepting it."

A pause.

"...いただきます," she muttered to herself, finally digging into her food.

---

Aoife stood outside of the room in which she’d been debriefed for some time before continuing on with what was life now. The small popsicle she'd swindled from support staff had mostly melted, as she finished it off with a big bite. She thought about how she’d answered the questions they asked. About how she felt, when dealing the finishing blows to the void they’d all fought. Amongst the ruins of what life once was, to take a stand on the side of existence itself.

Aoife shivered as she felt an inkling of that anticipation creep through her once more. Her grin turned acrid as she supressed a chuckle. It was all too much to bear, and yet.

“I’m excited to get another opportunity to prove myself to you all,” she had said. As if describing Everest as that small protrusion from the Earth near Kathmandu, or what once was.

“Ms. Stuurmgard, do you need anything?” A hall monitor doing his diligence asked of her. Aoife almost didn’t hear the words through the euphoric buzz that permeated her skull likes millions of swarming bees. She didn’t even really know what she responded with, other than the sentiment being largely, no.

Aoife buried the sensation, storing it for when she would need it. For now, it was time to eat.

The cafeteria bustled, no doubt some of the excitement was part in parcel to the actions of Aoife and her fellow Ars Magi. Aoife hopped along the line to procure food, a small drink and eventually locate a table with the mountainous woman and her fiery compatriot. Aoife smiled at them as she plopped down across form them, immediately digging in and speaking at the same time.

“I wanted to say,” she shoved some food into her mouth. “You guysh were ‘eally impressive,” she swallowed. “I think you would’ve got on alright even if I hadn’t come!”

Before long another girl came and sat at the table. Aoife recognized her as the girl who was most injured during the skirmish. It was too bad, Aoife thought. She looked as though she was managing it well, however.

Aoife heard the thanks offered to her and offered a toothy grin in return. “You’re quite welcome!”

“I saw your handiwork up close Chie; I think you could’ve handled that void all by yourself if you were pressed enough.” Aoife’s voice had taken a turn to the thoughtful, as she really seemed to believe what she was saying was true.

"Earlier, they told me I cleared my test. I'm... no, we're Ars Magi now. It's almost a little surreal how fast it all went." Chie remarked. "I'm still having trouble accepting it."

Aoife carefully considered what the other Ars Magi was saying, but she couldn’t really relate. As soon as Aoife had begun her first transformation, everything in the universe seemed to shift ever so slightly into place. It all made sense to her. The thought of none of this making any sense was troubling, even to a rather carefree spirit such as herself.

She cleared her throat, her demeanor once more shifting. “Think of it like this. If you weren’t right for this role, you’d be dead, not sore,” she untactfully offered. “If you’re still having reservations, I’d consider speaking to a professional about it, you’ll only get yourself and others hurt by hesitating.” Aoife’s gaze trailed across Chie’s form before the seriousness drained from her expression entirely and she went back to scarfing down her meal. “We’ll be dealing wif wursh than that!” she excitedly remarked, mouth still full.

---

"S'right," came the reply from the verdant monolith seated to the right of the pair, opposite Crystal and Rivka. A small bandage had graced her brow in the whirlwind aftermath of their initiation testing, a result of the otherwise sterling medical examination. It was telling of their newfound potential that the practitioners weren't terribly surprised that a scrape and some bruising was all she had earned for her meteoric descent— Selma had to admit, even she was a bit concerned after she'd felt her bones shake a little with the impact. "We just took our first steps today. Only goin' up the mountain from here."

Biting deep and heartily into a drumstick, her emerald eyes slid over to regard the two newer arrivals as she mulled over their conversations a while longer. Rivka and Crystal weren't always terribly much for idle chatter, but she'd managed to pull them into some friendly nonsense before they'd showed up— and it had stepped away from the forefront after this had taken root. for her part, she hadn't really given too much thought to whether or not she was really ready to acknowledge herself as Ars Magi...

How did it feel to use your powers, Miss Rosmarie?

"It rocked. I wanna do it again. I felt like I was invincible, unstoppable. Nothing in the world could beat me."

"But, hey, we did just start being 'em. They'll still be training us, y'know? It'll probably sink in more once we really put our noses to the grindstone on it. It's like, uh..."

She paused momentarily, eyes floating between the two girls as she searched for the comparison.

And do you, now, feel differently about yourself since the transformation?

"I'm trying not to. But I gotta say, it does feel like I'm a lot closer to what I've always wanted."

That being?

"Protect people from the Voids. Take back home. That kinda stuff. But aside from that I wanna make sure I stay the same ol' me."

Inspiration flashed as the memory faded back out, and as she swallowed, she raised the bone aloft as though a pointer finger, the classic gesture of "Eureka!"

"It's like dancing. You don't really feel like a dancer after you first shuffle to a nice beat, but if you keep working at it and learning how it all works, it starts to feel right."

The bone unceremoniously clattered back to the plate as she wiped her fingers. That made sense, right? It did to her— it should to the other ladies, then. For all their personal misgivings with themselves, all their uncertainties, all their needs of a good solid hug every now and again, Selma was pretty sure that if she could grok something, they could grok it too. They seemed smart. Surely they'd also needed to train stuff from the ground up before— and they probably didn't need to fight stuff like a gangly build, but the point remained.

She made to clap Chie on the back, good-natured and fraternal as ever—

How did you feel your peers performed, in that case?

"I'm glad everyone's okay. It got a li'l touch 'n' go at the end there, but poor Chie still gritted her teeth and fought through her injury like a champ."

And decided instead to venture north, tousling the smaller girl's long brunette locks in between bites of food, favoring her with a confident smile. After a moment, it graced the rest of the table in turn— Aoife, Crystal, Rivka. They'd been through a lot together in the past three days, nobody could deny them such. They'd faced the fire head on even when they weren't meant to— nobody could have predicted that train station going the way it had— and always come out swinging for the fences, even if it wasn't the perfect concertos someone like Sokolov had expected of herself. They'd always found a way.

And for her, their hard work was gonna be a badge of pride.

So regarding your encounter with the Void...

"Heh heh heh. Kicking them around for a change was fun."

That'll be all, Miss Rosmarie.

Congratulations, cadet. Today,

"Just watch. If we could handle all this before we start learning from the best in the business? Before you know it, we're all gonna be cracking their masks like old pros. They shoulda got us on that train when they had the chance."

Her grin passed confident and into wolfish, as she returned to her food with redoubled vigor. Payback Time was a-comin', and she'd long set her clock.

You are an Ars Magi.

---

Crystal sat, once again silent after the last two joined, and ate. She was paying much less attention to her food than the other girls, which led to her wincing slightly when Selma clapped Chie on the back. However good natured, that must have hurt. Once Selma had finished talking, however...

"Aoife is right, though, Chie. Though I wouldn't base it on your survivability, it's still entirely possible that any number of us sitting here aren't actually cut out to be Ars Magi." She gestured around the room as she said this. "Just because we passed our first test doesn't make us invincible, and the mental side of things is the worst of it. If you have any doubts, now is the time to talk it over with professionals in the field of your concerns, trust me, you don't want to let it slide and have to deal with it later." Perhaps uncharacteristically talkative, but Crystal knew what a shaky mind could lead to. And in their case especially, she didn't want anything that could lead to further harm, or even death, to poke its head up.

She just finished eating when she finally parsed Selma's statement and smiled. "That's right. Though that makes me wonder... Have any of you been told anything further about that incident? I almost doubt that they'll inform us unless it just so happens that we go up against the same group as part of our duties. Even so, I'd hope they'd tell us if they learn more about those things."

With that, she popped in a piece of sugarfree gum. No special codeword or passphrase this time, just simple spearmint for after a meal to get any food flecks out of her teeth. She offered a piece to each of the other four girls as well.

---

'How did it feel to use your powers for the first time?'
"... As well as expected, I'd think. It felt freeing. It felt like I could handle whatever was thrown at me."

'Do you feel any different since your transformation?'
"No different, really. I do like the idea that I can go back into that state of freedom at will now, though."

'What are your thoughts about your encounter with the Void?'
"I think that it's a lot easier to deal with them as an Ars Magi than it would be otherwise."

'What are your thoughts on how your teammates preformed?'
There was a moment of silence as she thought about it. Finally, she grinned slightly. "They're fantastic."

---

How did it feel to use your powers, Miss Sokolov?

LLike breaking free from a chrysalis.

Pardon?

A caterpillar doesn’t know what will happen when it makes its shell, secrets itself from the world. It melts. Nothing but a nervous system in a primitive soup, and somehow from that mess a butterfly is made. But it doesn’t know what it is, what it can be, until it breaks free.

…

I take it, then, that you do feel different after your transformation?

Of course I do. But that’s not the answer you want, is it? You want a clinician’s answer. To know if I’ve stripped a gear, if I’ve developed a God complex.

Have you?

How could I not? Not a God complex, but a god complex. I’m neither omniscient nor omnipotent. But what else can I be but a god of flame? And if I am, are you, this whole institute, not a modern Prometheus? How can this be so dull for you? So… Mundane. What you have all learned to do is a miracle. What you have made of me, and of my peers, is a miracle. I hope I never forget that. I hope the people we save see us as the deliverance of a merciful and loving God, and the Void see us as Her retribution.

How do you feel about your peers? How did they do?

Amateurishly. The devushka was slow. That girl, Aoife, came in out of turn. And Chie got hurt.

…

Don’t look at me like that. There’s nothing wrong with being an amateur. Once upon a time the word meant love. Passion. To do a thing for the love of it, not because of the money. That is an amateur, and that’s why they’ll be perfect. In time. Nothing motivates, nothing pushes us to soaring, heart aching, pulse pounding heights of artistry like love.

Give them time. Give us time. We’ll be the best Ars Magi the world has ever seen.

“Good evening, ladies,” Rivka said, drifting to the table as though gliding, not walking. She was distracted, by exactly what was hard to tell, but she sank into her seat and picked absently at her food. ”Devushka, were you raised in a barn? Mind your table manners. I am going to be the best Ars Magi in the world. We are going to be the best, show some pride. You especially, Chie, sit up straight. Show some spine. Injury in the line of battle is the fodder for the best tales in history, the noblest songs. Perk up.”

“You…” She stopped, staring between Aoife and Selma. One had her elbows on the table, throwing aside detritus and gristle like so much trash with the very vigor of her consumption. And the other ruined the otherwise pleasant sound of her voice by talking through a shovelful of food. She was surrounded by animals. They may yet be the best Magi in the world, but by God she’d never be able to take them anywhere. Not like that redhead over there. Bozhe moy, kakoye sovershenstvo. Moya zhizn' za vozmozhnost'. “Never mind. Maybe the library has a book on etiquette.”

“How are we all feelin? Invigorated? Has our fight against smaller Void prepared us to quell the bigger ones?” At last, she herself actually took a bite. And a sip. And then she continued, undeterred. “More importantly, we need a team name. And an emblem. Who among you can draw? My skill with a pencil is not the equal of my skill with a note, and I dare not wear my own handiwork upon my uniform.”

Her eyes, despite her eager questioning, drifted again.

That’s a grand claim, Miss Sokolov.

But you’re curious if I can back it up, I think. Perhaps there’s a spark of wonder left in you after all, Doctor. Are we done?

Yes, we’re done. Your… philosophies aside, I see no cause for concern. Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Sokolov. You are an Ars Magi.

“Hey!” Calls a voice from across the cafeteria, “There you are!”

The other girl from the morning’s exercise arrives late, a tray of food carefully balanced in one hand as he other waves toward the gathered girls. Noel Nilsson, still recognizable despite her hair having shortened and returned to its original brown color, doesn’t ask for permission before she pulls a chair up to the table that her teammate has taken residence at.
“Good job out there today.” Says the new arrival around a mouthful of food, “You all too.” She adds to the rest of the girls at the table. “Hopefully that’s not the last time we get to fight together, right?” She sets to eating after, quickly stuffing chunks of her meal into her mouth.

Dinner continues on, conversation echoing through the cafeteria as the cadets exchange stories and speculate on the future. Eventually the chime signaling the end of mealtime echoes through the halls, heralding a return to dorms and sleep shortly after. It takes some time before the halls are finally quiet, but sleep finds all of the cadets eventually.

It’s the next morning that Aoife is given notice that she’s being reassigned. Both to a new dorm and to a new team, the same group of girls that she’d been sent to fight with the other day. There’s little explanation given, only that the Academy has determined she’s better suited to working with her new team. The other four girls receive the same message, a quick notice both that they’ll be working as a team and that Aoife will be joining them.

The next several weeks after that announcement pass more uneventfully than the past few days. It may almost be disappointing, going from facing down multiple Voids sitting in classrooms and staring down reams of homework and stacks of academic material. There are still both physical and magical drills that take place over the intervening time, but both are more strictly regimented and more limited in scope than the cadet’s earlier trial by fire.

For the more restless of Nova Lux’s students there is at least some good news in the announcement that comes the day after their initiation: The students are now allowed to explore the city without supervision. There’s a curfew in place for cadets, but otherwise the city of Palmyra is theirs to explore during their evenings and weekends.

For those that do, the find Palmyra’s ancestry is Russian, but its future is an eclectic mix of European and Asian influences. Several generations of immigrants and refugees have influenced the culture and feel of the sanctum city, shown in the mix of languages that paint billboards and street signage. In some places old stone buildings give way to steel skyscrapers and packed housing structures reminiscent of old Eastern living, the city forced to expand upward rather than out.

It’s a military city, the most prominent features being Nova Lux, the Officer’s Academy, Palmyra’s Military Zone, and all the structures required to support of those pivotal institutions. Yet there’s still some charm to be found amidst its streets, some bastions of society and entertainment. Movie theaters, karaoke rooms, arcades, restaurants, shopping districts and parks, while they might not be grand affairs or cultural landmarks there’s something for everyone.

During these weeks, several pieces of news also circulate through the academy and amongst the student body. The chief item of interest is the announcement of the academies’ Inaugural Ball, a joint event held for both the newly minted Ars Magi and recently enrolled students from Nova Lux’s sister school, the Palmyra Officers Academy. Officially it’s billed as a chance to build relationships between the Ars Magi cadets and the peers they’ll be working with over the coming years, though the more cynical speculate it’s more likely an opportunity for the Imperium to show off their new crop of weapons to the Duodecim’s various dignitaries.

Until then though the five girls have time to themselves and the city to explore--at least when they aren’t in class.

---

A small chill roused Aoife from her slumber. She felt the feeling crawl up the small of her back to the nape of her neck, slowly brushing against her chin as she yawned. The morning light pierced the thin white draperies lazily warming Aoife’s blushing cheeks as she pulled the blanket tight to her body, her muscles tightening to stretch. She roused, finally, at the sound of a bird calling for breakfast. Her stomach gurgled as she thought of the same.

She rushed through her morning routine, brushing her hair and teeth with a hand each in a white tee and a pair of acid washed blue denim overalls. She looked at herself, examining for differences from what she remembered herself looking like, but there wasn’t anything too specific she could notice. She launched out of her room, not thinking much about her new roommate who was still sleeping as she slammed the door and took off running towards the cafeteria, picnic basket in hand.

“Alice, right?” A man wearing a stained apron looked at an order chit with squinting eyes that told Aoife he was in need of glasses. “Two roasted chicken sandwiches?”

“Yup, that’s me!” Aoife chirped carefully placing the sandwiches into the basket, carefully avoiding the drinks she’d prepared prior to leaving her room.

The man looked over her shoulder at two fishing rods stuck in a makeshift sling that looked equal parts professional and practiced. While many Sturmgaards of past hadn’t bothered to sully their dainty hands, since the fall of the family and certainly by the time Aoife was old enough to practice, this had been their way of life. “You fishin’?” he grumbled.

“Maybe if we find a spot,” Aoife mumbled stuffing sandwiches into the basket. And before the man could further learn about Aoife’s plans she had already taken off, like a Void out of church she bolted down back towards the dorm rooms to grab her new teammate.

Aoife hadn’t been able to spend much time with her new team outside of exercises and lessons, and she certainly hadn’t had the time to get to know any of them all that well as far as personal lives were concerned. She was off in the direction of Selma, the burly brawler who towered over Aoife. Selma had quickly made a distinct impression on Aoife in their first fight that had kept up to this point. When examining her at meals or in the middle of a scuffle one might assume Selma was the charge in first ask questions later type, but Aoife had been shown otherwise.

While she did charge into combat, that was simply her entering her most effective range for fighting. She had an eye for tactics and was quick to formulate a complex strategy at a whim of analysis. It was something that impressed Aoife as she hadn’t done much dueling or sparring before coming to the academy. She passed by windows that shone with golden orange morning light as she made her way to Selma and Chie’s room. She made a mental note to connect with the other members of her team as well as soon as more free time came along, but for what she had planned she had assumed Selma would be the most interested.

A quick trilling knock sounded at the door and Aoife heard a tired grumble at the door as Selma came out, a small piece of toast hanging from her mouth.

“All ready?” Aoife asked, redundantly as she began to march away from the door.

Aoife’s hike took them to a ruined spot of town, an old train tunnel that had been filled with waist high water. She huddled onto a toppled over train car around halfway into the tunnel. She cracked some glow sticks and threw them into the anachronistic river lined with iron tracks and watched contentedly as fish spiraled around the lights.

Aoife handed a sandwich to Selma as the two sat in relative silence in the now luminescent tunnel. Aoife handed a rod to Selma, carefully handling the hook, impaling a worm on it and then handing it over to Selma. She did the same to her own fishing road, carefully resting it between her knees as she began to eat her sandwich.

“So, Selma, do you miss home?” The question echoed both ways down the tunnel, escaping into the open air as it did. Selma looked like the kind of girl to brace the question easily and say no, that she was doing fine, vigilant as ever and that this was her life now. Aoife, was not.

“I do,” she whispered. Her smile weakly fought back against the doubt on her face. “But I’m really glad I was put on this team, you’ve all been incredible to watch so far.”

---

A low, almost rumbling chuckle rose from Selma's belly, as she took in turn the rod, then sandwich from her newly christened teammate. Aoife Sturmgaard, as she had grown to know in the weeks following their induction as Ars Magi trainees, was the queen of wave and storm. Normally still and placid, easygoing as the babbling brook at which they sat, but thrown into combat she was as the hurricane itself, the crashing waves that tore against the coast. In that sense Selma found a kinship that was almost impossible to ignore, even in the face of the natural awkwardness of having her as a late arrival to their motley crew.

Rod in her right hand, she took a moment to offer a small well wish towards the next life to the worm that writhed around the dangling metal hook.

It was nice to have another person that approached fights for the pure thrill of it— Rivka was one to enjoy herself, sure, but hers was a pursuit of beautiful symphony, an orchestra in motion, everything falling into its perfect place, harmonizing as she sculpted it. Crystal was a technician to the core, trained well and composed when it counted, but she seemed to not quite take the same joy, to feel less of the revelry Selma felt in a brawl. Chie, to her eternal credit, had clearly been making strides in Selma's watchful eye, settling in as the weeks of training and structured fostering of their abilities gave her a true base of skill to fall back on. She was still very much a work in progress— they all were, but Selma couldn't help but admit that she was probably the closest one here to a normal young girl when it came to mentality.

Sandwich in her left, she took a hearty bite, letting the tang of mustard explode over her tongue as it brightened the savory ham and nutty cheese between the bread, ponderously chewing.

On one hand, it would put her at a bit of a disadvantage as Ars Magi put themselves regularly in extraordinary situations, forcing a harsher adjustment in attitude than the others— but on the other, it also meant she was the furthest from forgetting her roots as one of the people they were pledging their lives to protect. That was every bit as important as being able to turn on killer instinct in Selma's mind. She'd been sure to try to remind her of that in the many nighttime chats they'd shared as roommates. She had her own strengths, things the rest of them could never do. Stuff like that.

But Aoife seemed to share the joy Selma took in battle. She did not require perfection, she had no need of second guesses. She flowed through the chaos and energy of combat, ebbing and rippling with it as though born for the clamor. It was an easy point of kinship, only fostered through the combat exercises the school had put the two through. One was the flowing river, taking the form of the ever-changing vessel of her combative context, a master of the field. The other was a sturdy mountain, in many ways unbothered and welcoming of all the war that its face beheld— an ever-present part of the field itself, laughing even as the world around it shifted.

With a single raise of the elbow and flick of the wrist, the big girl cast her line, turning to meet the Sturmgaard name's latest and greatest product with a gentle smirk.

"Every day. Like you wouldn't believe. Whenever we finish a lesson I wanna collapse onto a hay bale and not think for the next week." she said, plain as the morning slowly rising around them. The light of the stream, a dancing cascade of patterns in white against her emerald eyes, seemed to take a wistful tint. "At the very least, I wish I could tell my family so i could make sure I got it all right, y'know?"

Her left hand, freshly relieved of sandwich after transferring it to the mouth where it slowly retreated in behind her teeth, made a loose fist and rapped against her skull, sending moss-colored locks in a light sway.

"Ol' rohck brain don' work too goo', y'know?" she joked through proteins and carbohydrates with what seemed to be practiced clarity.

Taking a moment to finish her food properly, she then snorted.

"Hell, I was born missing home. It's why I wanted this, after all... Family's been wanting to go back to the Black Forest since long before me."

The wistful tint went somewhere far, far away for one, two, then three moments before blinking away as she returned to the present.

"We are, aren't we?" she agreed, a toothy grin blossoming into her cheeks as she playfully punched the smaller girl on the shoulder. "You an' I are must-see-TV, even compared to everyone else."

Sensing a tug on the rod, she leaned forward, gripping the reel.

"We're all gonna be great. With how long I take to learn things, I know for a fact that you four are wowin' everyone already. Wouldn't trade you girls for the world."

---

Palmyram, like her luck, had been something of a mixed bag.

Crystal was assigned as her roommate. Worked out fine. Thus far the other Magi had been content to ignore her ramblings— rather than trying to engage with them, which could only lead to frustration for who else could understand the machinations of her mind— and more importantly had been a willing and able accomplice in her aims to design a proper logo for their little band. Even though the devushka was in another room she was still around to provide an able minion. That was to be placed within the good luck column, for sure. As was the recovery of some of her luggage.

Unfortunately, that did not mean all of it had been recovered intact.

Her guitar had been smashed. The knowledge, the reality of its demise crashing down into quantum certainty for which Schrodinger could never be sufficiently damned, had been enough to wrench from her a most undignified torrent of invectives. Not that she much cared about her dignity; dignity was for people without passion. But she could certainly have been more artistic about it. Screaming her head off, while understandable, would not endear her to the prekrasnaya. No, such things could only be detrimental to her cause. Bequeathing a coffee had been a masterstroke, the first of many, but she would need to work harder. Unfortunately for all of her hard work she had been hardpressed to find the staples of her life within the city. A shooting range had been easy, and her chance to return to a regular practice schedule (at least as regular as she could manage) had been seized with grace and delight. And she had managed to strike a deal to purchase an admittedly battered, but serviceable, new guitar with one of the city's denizens.

But she had, for far too long, been completely and utterly unable to find a place within which to sing in front of a large crowd of people. They all insisted that she be of drinking age, which was ridiculous. She needed, nor desired, no intoxicants to convince her that she could sing. She merely needed the microphone and an enthusiastic crowd. But at last, perhaps, she had a lead. Which was why Rivka was in the process of raising her phone to her ear, swinging her legs over the side of her bed.

"Devushla, you should come with me to check out my new lead. I think this one might actually let us in."