C11-R15-3448 A.E.
Afternoon to Evening – Ashport Talent Registrar, SW-2
The sun was dipping low in the Ashport sky, casting long golden beams across the towering structures of the city’s tier-two district, SW-2. The streets shimmered with recent rain, the cobblestones of this wealthier quadrant still damp and smelling faintly of petrichor and city dust. Kael and Lira stepped out of the private transport van into the quiet bustle of the Registrar’s entrance plaza. Unlike the chaotic mess of slumline queues in the lower districts, everything here moved in orderly precision. The guards at the door gave only a cursory scan of their IDs before ushering them through.
Lira clutched her father’s hand tightly, her knuckles pale. She was dressed well—elegant, but not overdone—with a long navy-blue coat over a fitted jumpsuit and flat boots. Kael noticed she hadn't spoken much during the ride, and not from a lack of words. It was the silence of someone sorting through a thousand thoughts. The kind of silence that had weight.
Kevyn glanced at Kael and gave him a nod of gratitude before leading his daughter toward the front check-in desk.
“Appointment for Lira Taryn,” he said, voice firm and clear.
The attendant looked up and gave a polite, professional smile. “Of course, Mr. Taryn. You’re early, but her window is already open. If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you directly.”
No waiting room. No lines. VIP clearance had its perks. Kael followed a step behind them, hands in his coat pockets, trying not to draw attention. A few people in the registrar lobby did glance their way—mostly out of curiosity. No one recognized them. Not yet.
The testing chamber was quiet and clinical, its floors covered in padded whitestone and its walls paneled in pale steel alloys imbued with nullifying glyphs. A Registrar stood waiting behind a crystal terminal, wearing a light blue robe trimmed in violet—signifying C-rank authority.
Kael had seen a few awakening tests in Brinewatch. They involved sweaty, twitching initiates, broken equipment, the occasional spiritual backlash, and medical crews on standby. This was nothing like that. The air here was sterile, the room soundproofed, the process optimized. Here, awakening wasn’t a public ritual. It was a transaction.
“Lira Taryn,” the Registrar said, offering a respectful nod. “Today marks your sixteenth birthday. Have you felt the onset of your Awakening?”
Lira gave a hesitant nod. “It started early this morning. My body feels… different.”
“That’s expected. Please, step onto the circle.”
She stepped onto the engraved metal platform, which pulsed softly with blue light. The device began humming as it read her life signature, essence stability, and talent resonance. Glyphs ignited one by one in concentric circles.
Kevyn’s hand clenched and unclenched at his side. Kael watched the lines of tension in his jaw. For a moment, it wasn’t the self-destructive drunk standing there. It was a father—one with hope, worry, and too much history buried behind his eyes.
A soft chime rang.
“C-rank,” the Registrar announced. “Type: Blood Manipulation – Subclass: Mend. Codename: Blood Mend.”
Lira blinked. “Blood Mend?”
“Yes. It’s a C-rank subclass talent specializing in using blood to accelerate healing. Effective on self and others. Not combat-oriented in the traditional sense, but quite rare. You’ll be able to enhance recovery, stop bleeding instantly, and eventually repair damage at the tissue and cellular level.”
Lira stood there, mouth slightly open. Kael could see it—the flicker of confusion, the mix of disappointment and awe. Not a combat talent. Not something flashy. Nothing tied to logistics or business, either.
Just healing.
“…Can I still take the printout?” she asked quietly.
“Of course.” The Registrar touched the terminal and slid a slim silver tablet across the table. “Your certification, resonance scan, and initial essence profile are all included.”
“Thank you.”
She took it and stepped off the platform. Her face was calm, composed even. But Kael could feel it—the restrained tremble in her mana. It danced and curled close to her skin like steam off a hot stone. She wasn’t breaking down, but something in her had cracked.
They exited back into the hallway. Kevyn looked like he wanted to say something, but Lira shook her head.
“Not yet.”
They found an empty bench just off the inner garden. The late light filtered in through the translucent walls, painting everything in soft orange and gold. Kael sat next to her, giving space.
“I know it’s not what you were hoping for,” he said, carefully.
She let out a breath, steady and tired. “It’s not that it’s bad. I just… I thought maybe it would make sense. My life, my work. Like something would click.”
He nodded slowly. “I get it. I thought the same.”
She looked over at him. “What was yours like?”
Kael smiled faintly. “Complicated. Mine didn’t come with a neat label like yours. No scan could read it.”
“Of course not,” she said with a small laugh. “You’re the main character.”
“Hardly. I’m just a guy who eats too much and doesn’t sleep enough.”
That got another laugh. It was small but real.
Kevyn stood a short distance away, giving them space but staying watchful. He kept turning something over in his hands—a small coin, maybe a token. Kael recognized the motion. Nervous energy. The kind of thing addicts did when they were trying to keep their hands busy and their thoughts from spiraling.
Kael leaned back on the bench. “Blood Mend, huh?”
She nodded.
“That’s not a bad talent. Could be really valuable.”
“I know,” she said. “I just don’t know what to do with it. I built a business without a talent. Now I have one, and it doesn’t help with any of it. It feels like starting over.”
“It doesn’t have to define your path.”
“Doesn’t it?” she asked. “Isn’t that what this whole system’s about? You awaken, and suddenly the world wants to funnel you into a lane. Fighter. Support. Alchemist. Healer. Logistics? Not on the list.”
Kael looked down at his hands. “It’s the people who step out of the lane that change things.”
Lira stared at her tablet, the Blood Mend classification still glowing faintly on its surface. “My mom had a healing talent,” she said after a pause. “Not the same. But similar.”
Kael stayed silent.
“She always joked that she wasted it. That she couldn’t even keep herself alive.” Lira’s voice dropped. “When she got sick, I used to lock myself in my room and blast music. Just close my eyes and pretend I was somewhere else. Dancing like the Sideroad Boys. Telling myself I’d be famous, or rich, or anything that didn’t feel like watching her die.”
He looked at her, but didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.
“She told me before she passed that if I ever awakened with anything close to hers, I should do better with it than she did.” She swallowed. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You already are,” Kael said. “You’ve built more in an orbit than most people do in a lifetime. And now you’ve got somethin' else—somethin' that can save lives.”
“Even if it doesn’t save mine?”
“Especially if it doesn’t.”
Kevyn approached finally, his voice soft. “That talent… it was hers.”
Lira turned to him.
“Blood Mend was your mom’s,” he said. “I recognized the codename. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to weigh you down on your birthday. But maybe… maybe it’s not a burden. Maybe it’s her giving you something back.”
Lira’s disappointment softened, tears glistening as she touched her orichalcum-gold bracelet that Kael gave her to replace her mother's, which she had given to Kael to save his life. “I didn’t know. That… means everything.”
Kael watched, his heart swelling. The bracelet’s sacrifice had saved him, and now Lira’s talent tied her to her mother, a bond stronger than gold.
Lira’s didn’t cry. She just nodded and stood. “Let’s go home.”
Kael nodded too. But as they exited through the building’s private corridor, he felt something.
A presence. Faint. Watching.
But no matter how much he looked, he couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. He chocked it up to him being overly vigilant in the wake of all of the important things happening around himself and Lira.
As they stepped out into the sunset and back into the waiting van, he pressed his back to the seat, silent. Lira leaned her head on the window, holding her tablet loosely in her lap.
After dropping Kevyn off at home, Kael took Lira to a quiet dinner at The Verdant Grove back in Glassmere like he'd promised the day before. The restaurant’s warm candlelight a soft contrast to the freezing night. They talked of her talent, their future, and the AGE Magazine shoots, the evening passing without incident.
Elsewhere, in the heart of the Grays, beneath the shadow of iron scaffolding and rusted towers, a very different meeting took place.
Inside a fortified office in the Ironclad Security compound, Draven—a barrel-chested man with eyes like chipped obsidian—addressed his senior staff around a steel-plated table. The room stank of sweat, oil, and low-level enchantments.
"Kael Voren," Draven growled, tapping his knuckles against the table. "Sixteen. Multi-millionaire. No family support. No guild backing. Just grit, marketing, and a lot of damn luck."
Syla, his head of operations, lifted her eyes from a glowing dataslate. "He’s not just lucky. He’s sharp. But he relies on us—for warehouse security, for bodyguard services when he goes to the Luminaris functions. We pull our support, he’s exposed."
Torin, the logistics chief, folded his arms. "That won’t scare him. The kid’s bold. We need leverage."
Draven smirked. "We have it."
He glanced to Syla, who tapped a few lines on her slate. A hologram shimmered above the table—images of Kael entering and exiting a hidden door in his warehouse. Arc traces lit up the path of mana discharge. Residual resonance spiked far above E-rank.
"That’s not a regular mana signature," Torin muttered. "That’s... B-class? Maybe even higher."
"We don’t know what the talent is," Syla said. "But it’s real, and it's dangerous. He’s hiding it."
"Which means he’s vulnerable," Draven finished. "We take it to the Registrar, he loses everything. We take it to Theron Vex, he gets hunted. Or... we name our price."
Syla hesitated. "What if he doesn’t fold?"
Draven's eyes glittered. "Then we remind him that the Grays have long memories. His ma. His little sister. That Taryn girl. Everyone’s got a weakness. He’ll pay."
The room fell silent, the weight of the scheme settling like ash.
"Continue to search," Draven said. "Let's find everything he's hiding before we make him pay for silence."
The plot against Kael had begun.
And in the heart of Ashport, two rising empires prepared for war.
