1. Chapter One

Find yourself, Arken. You’re ready. It’s time.

That haunting whisper caressed my ear again as I began to stir—a familiar, yet foreign echo carried by the salt-laced gales as I woke up to perfect darkness. Perfect darkness, and a thick, whorling mist in the air that felt… odd, somehow. A bit eerie. It was a touch too heavy on the inhale, the hazy vapor shrouding me in shadows. My skin prickled with an uncomfortable degree of self-awareness, the strangest sense that I was being watched.

What was… Where was I…?

“Ah, good. You’re awake. I thought I was gonna have to prod at ya with the broomstick again.”

I blinked. Oh. Right. I had fallen asleep on deck earlier, having spent my day lounging around like a cat in the afternoon sun. I had been perfectly content to laze about for hours on end, soaking in that late summer warmth and watching wispy clouds drift across an endless cerulean expanse. Now, there was only the silver light of the moon overhead, her glimmering halo glowing softly against a smattering of starlight.

“In the middle of the night? That’s just rude, Conrad,” I groused, pushing myself up from the pile of potato sacks that had served as my makeshift bed.

“Storm’s coming.”

Well, that would explain the mist, at least. I tilted my head towards the deckhand as I proceeded to run my fingers through my hair, combing out the sleep snarls. Gods, I was in desperate need of a haircut. These soft brown waves were pretty enough, but they had grown much too unruly over the last few weeks. The length was nearly impossible to manage without access to a mirror. Slowly, I began to process the implications of the old man’s clipped observation.

“A storm? Here? Aren’t we just now passing Luxtos and Stygos?”

“Aye.”

All of the research I’d done back home suggested that the Astral amp; Umbral Isles had some of the most mild waters in the entire realm of Aemos. If anything, we should have dealt with a few thunderstorms up north as we left Samhaven nearly six weeks ago, but we had gotten lucky. So far, we had experienced fairly smooth sailing. As smooth as one could hope for over such a long journey.

“I’ll head back down below deck if it gets too bad, then,” I promised, hoping to buy myself just a little more time in the open ocean air.

Technically, that’s where I should have been regardless. Below deck, alongside the rest of the passengers who had purchased their tickets from Samhaven to Pyrhhas. But somehow, I had managed to endear myself to the ship’s crew within about a week of our voyage, so as long as I kept out of their way, they let me sneak up here to my heart’s content.

“You should head back down now,” Conrad countered, his expression grim. “Before it even hits.”

The grizzled deckhand offered no further explanation, which was nothing new. He was the taciturn type. Still, I followed his gaze to where it had affixed itself just above the horizon, and then I understood.

This was going to be one Hel of a storm.

Though the skies were crystal clear overhead, whorling clouds had begun to gather in the east, and the full moon was wrapped in her stunning silver halo—a telltale sign of an incoming front. Not that I needed either of those signs to know that the inbound tempest was dangerous. Each breath I took was heavy with mist, salt, and a touch of pure aether as it crackled through the air like static. I could practically taste the rising fury of the elements.

That probably should have frightened me. It did not.

“Come on, Conrad. You know that I can handle myself just fine up here.”

All I received in response to that assertion was a scowl.

“Please? I’ve always wanted to see an aetherstorm like this up close,” I whined, pouting in excess and batting my eyelashes for dramatic effect.

The old man let loose a heavy sigh, rubbing at his temples as he so often did when my stubborn side came out to vex him.

“You’re a reckless one, little star-seeker. It’s gonna get you killed if you’re not careful. But fine. You can stay, for now, under two conditions.”

I raised a challenging brow, but allowed him to continue without protest.

“One, let the record show that there’s no rescuing you if you fall off the damned ship. We’ll leave you behind and let you sink down into the Abyss in a heartbeat.”

They would not, but I grinned and nodded in agreement regardless.

“Naturally.”

Conrad held up a second finger, still scowling at me, clearly unphased by my enthusiasm.

“Two, the next time I tell ya to go down below—you listen. No arguments.”

I made a face, displeased with any sort of clause against arguments. I was good at arguing. I liked to argue. But I did have to acquiesce that Conrad knew these seas like the back of his hand, and this was my first seafaring voyage… ever. All of the tomes, journals, and lectures in the world couldn’t make up for what I lacked in direct experience.

“Fine. But if you send me below over a light drizzle, you’ll never hear the end of it, old man.”

Conrad chuckled.

“You’re only gonna be in my hair for a few more days, Arken. I think I’ll survive.”

That was true. After six long weeks of travel, we would soon arrive in Port Sofia, and I could finally seek entry to Sophrosyne: The City of the Gods.

The storm hit within the hour.

Angry gales of wind whipped past me so violently now that my skin felt raw, and the wooden planks beneath my feet were becoming dangerously slick. I had given up trying to remain on the prow, as my well-worn and now-sodden leather boots were not helping in the matter of my staying upright.

All of that aside, the storm was gorgeous. I continued to marvel at the sheer force of the tempest, utterly fascinated while I clung to the mast of the ship with a desperate death grip. As the next roaring rumble of thunder rolled in, I was both enthralled and terrified.

I was a smidge reckless, yes, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew this was risky, yet even in such adverse conditions, I much preferred to be above deck. I would take wind-chapped skin, rope burns, and a little bit of downpour over the stale musk and miserable wailing that awaited me below.

A vast majority of the other travelers on board were the sons and daughters of the elite and noble families of Atlas—though noblesse, I was not. Most of them were aged anywhere from thirteen to somewhere in their early twenties, like me. Many of us also had the same final destination, but that was where our similarities seemed to end. My so-called peers had grown up in such comfort and luxury that stale food, occasional turbulent waters, and a general lack of privacy made for the most dire of circumstances.

They were constantly worked up and whining, as though the last six weeks were the worst days of their lives. If they weren’t bemoaning their fates and cursing their parents for sending them to the Arcane Studium in the first place, they were bickering amongst themselves and hurling insults at one another over a myriad of House dramas. As if any of them played a part in the successes or failures of Atlassian politics.

I really couldn’t stand it half of the time, and so I had made a habit of spending as much time as possible on deck. I tried to make myself useful where I could… or at the very least, I seemed to keep the crew entertained.

“You can’t avoid them forever, star-seeker,” Conrad had reminded me the other day. While I got along just fine with the other sailors, he and I talked the most. We had bonded over my interest in his hand-drawn star maps, and how the sailors charted their courses based on known celestial bodies. Thus, the nickname.

“Can’t say I like the brats much either, but you’re all headed to the same place, are ya not?”

On one hand, he was correct: Almost everyone on board was on their way to Sophrosyne as a prospective student, hoping to be accepted into the Arcane Studium. On the other hand, Sophrosyne was the largest city in Atlas. Surely I could find more like-minded company, if I so chose?

But that’s hardly what I was looking for.

There were quite a few things that I was looking for in Sophrosyne, but connections weren’t really on the list. I had other priorities. Priorities that I had avoided thinking too hard on as of late, lest my nerves eat me alive.

I focused my attention back on the weather, though the winds were growing so strong now that the storm was almost equally as anxiety inducing as everything else. The onslaught of saltwater was starting to feel like pins and needles cutting into my skin. I could hardly see a thing, blinded by the downfall and angry ocean spray—when suddenly, a massive flash of Light aether came out of nowhere. It was followed almost immediately by thunder, not a low rumble this time but a sharp crack, as if the very skies were being split open.

Shit, I thought to myself.I could feel the residual aether in the air intensify, which meant that the lightning had struck far too close for comfort. I hadn’t seen where it landed, but my suspicions were confirmed when I heard Conrad bellow out an order. The one that I had promised not to disregard.

“Arken! Go.Now.”

I waited for a break in the waves before I let go of the ropes, and took one last gasping breath of fresh air—choking on the rain as I dropped back down to the cabins below.

It was quieter down here than I had anticipated, but not by much. Those who were not yet sleeping were shivering and bickering over blankets, and they paid me no mind as I sought out a familiar corner in the bunks. Sighing, I wrung as much moisture out of my hair and clothes as I possibly could by hand, before wrapping myself up in a threadbare blanket of my own.

The lightning continued to surge through the skies every few minutes, always followed by that vicious thunder, like the maws of the Abyss were opening up and groaning beneath us. The waves were getting choppy, and I had to push myself up against the wall as the ship began to heave and rock violently in various directions. The worse the storm got, the more of the young ones woke up and started to cry out in terror.

Too much.

It was all becoming too much. I had never done well in tight spaces, but the incessant whining, the erratic nature of the storm, the stale air, thick with the musky scent of far too many body odors combined... I grit my teeth, and every time the ship would jostle and jerk, my muscles would tense up in an effort to steady myself and avoid being flung across the cabin. I was too damp. It was too warm. My hair and clothes were sticking to my skin, rubbing and itching and gods, the children. They just kept screaming.

Every sensory detail was becoming more uncomfortable than the last, driving me to the brink of madness. There was a reason why I would have rather braved the storm.

I couldn’t breathe. I should have stayed home. It wasn’t worth it. All of the knowledge, all of the answers, all of the arcane expertise in the world wasn’t worth the crushing pressure in my skull. Wasn’t worth the weight on my chest threatening to—

Breathe, Arken, I reminded myself. Breathe.

As I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, I pushed the pungent taste aside. Instead, I focused on the subtle buzz of aether in the air, tugging it towards me—drawing it inward. I felt the warmth bloom in my chest as my Resonance stirred to life, heeding my call as I gathered the Light aether from all around me. Claiming it. On the exhale, I looked down at my fingertips, resting on both knees, and marveled at the way they glowed softly, illuminating this dark little corner of the cabin, just for me.

I had been doing this since I was a little girl and still, the comfort that my Resonance brought me was unparalleled. It was a gift—and a somewhat rare one, at that. Something I hoped to hone further at the Studium, gods willing.

That comfort was cut short by the grating sound of Percival Zephirin’s voice across the cabin, decrying our doom with a degree of entitlement that only he could possibly muster at a time like this.

“If we die on this godsdamned ship, my father will have your heads!” the lordling shouted up towards the deck above.

What a poorly-crafted threat. If we were to die in this storm, so would the ship’s captain and crew, leaving no heads to roll. Regardless, his outburst left some of the younger Resonants in shambles, and the cacophony of wailing intensified.

Gods, I hated that man—the sniveling heir to the House of Gales. Not that the others on board were much better. Why had I even subjected myself to this fresh Hel? I felt more isolated on this ship than I ever had in the Brindlewoods. Maybe Conrad was right, and this was all I had to look forward to…

But no. That couldn’t be. Amaretta had come from the Studium, after all. There would be more to Sophrosyne than just brats and bickering. There had to be. And so with every deep inhale—and each slow, measured exhale—I remembered my purpose and why the destination was almost certainly worth one relatively brief, uncomfortable journey.

You’re ready, Arken. It’s time.

As my breathing fell into a slow, comfortable cadence, I closed my eyes again and allowed my anxious mind to untether from these dank quarters, instead falling into the comfort of my memories.

Memories of pine, of moss, and of sunshine.