“What’s with the long faces?” Varick clapped his hands. “Lighten up! We’ve only ruled out two denominations; we’re just getting started.”

  Shaped like a tear, the tidebreakers’ crystal had a blue aquanturine sphere hidden inside, and an ornamented bowl of water beside it. The Cerulean River ran between Troqua and the Avyhandouse, but it teemed with elexii, making water channeling nearly useless for his journey. Still, he loved swimming, and the elegance of tidebreakers had always fascinated him.

  Billiam went first, then Gafor, Lastin, and finally Skye. Not a ripple stirred in the bowl.

  “Maybe we’re failing because we haven’t charged,” Billiam said.

  “Would you stop saying dumb things, Billy?” Lastin snapped, tapping his foot. “What are we supposed to charge? We’re testing every element!”

  “We can charge for each denomination before we test it!” Billy replied.

  “You can’t charge if you can’t feel the fantasia!” Lastin almost shouted.

  “There’s no need for charging,” Skye said. “Our bodies naturally collect small amounts of our matching fantasia. That should suffice for the test.”

  “Then why are we all failing?” Billy asked, voice cracking.

  “No one has failed yet,” Varick interjected. “Only after someone exhausts all crystals can we call them a dud.”

  ‘Dud,’ Redeyes echoed. ‘I like that word. I believe I’ll use it often.’

  The windriders’ crystal looked like a cloud plucked from the sky. It had a grayish blue sphere inside with several pinwheels fixed around its platform. Windriders boasted the greatest agility of all elementalists, though their striking power was the weakest. But Skye wasn’t planning to fight elexii, and the thought of flying high above the world thrilled him.

  A gust of wind blasted through the hall. The crystal glowed.

  “I made it!” Gafor shouted as the pinwheels spun. “I’m a windrider!”

  Whooping, he leaped around the crystal, touching it over and over to unleash winds in every direction. Varick eventually had to drag him away as the others rushed to congratulate him. Heartened, everyone tried their best, but the pinwheels remained still.

  ‘No flying for you,’ Redeyes sang.

  “Should I try the others?” Gafor asked, beaming.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Varick replied with a forced smile. “A channeler can only command one denomination.”

  Skye suspected Varick knew his statement was inaccurate. From the scholar’s sighs and eye-rolls after every failure, it was clear he wanted to throw the kids out as soon as possible.

  According to the secret library, dual-element channelers existed, albeit rarely, numbering one in tens of thousands, depending on the classes in question. Even more extraordinary are multis who can control three or four denominations. Anything beyond that was considered a myth. Skye kept this to himself, not only to save time, but because he couldn’t stand seeing coalbrained Gafor succeed twice while the term dud hovered over his head.

  The lightningeaters' crystal was shaped like a fused assortment of shattered glass, a golden sphere pulsing inside. Electropaz stones were mounted on wooden poles nearby. With a wool-tipped needle, Varick rubbed them, sending out crackling yellow arcs of electricity with an audible zzzzip.

  Taris stepped forward for a demonstration and amplified the lightning tenfold. It was a dazzling display of raw power, yet lacking control. Unfortunately, no one managed to repeat his feat.

  As they proceeded, Skye had to say goodbye to more of his dreams until they reached the greenfingers crystal that resembled a glass gardenia, glowing dark green.

  “It’s working!” Lastin cried as the dangling vines around him twitched.

  Varick leaned in to inspect a flower rapidly blooming along one of them. “That’s a rare and valuable skill, Mr. Lastin,” the scholar said. “With proper training, everyone in Troqua will be tripping over themselves to recruit you. Congratulations.”

  With only a dozen crystals left, Skye and Billiam grew too anxious to stand still. They rushed from altar to altar, failing one after another, until they reached the icesculptors’ crystal.

  It was shaped like a frozen star. Beside it was another ceremonial bowl filled with chunks of ice and shimmering cryobies. As soon as Billiam touched the crystal, it glowed, and the water ruptured like a geyser, freezing in midair, forming a glacial tree.

  Nakais’s jaw hung, eyes wide.

  “I’m an icesculptor?” Billiam said, frowning as he scratched his head. “But… how? Why?”

  “Perhaps someone in your ancestry was an icesculptor,” Varick said. “Sometimes it takes generations for hereditary attributes to surface. Congratulations, young master. You’ve passed.”

  Skye expected celebration, but Billiam just backed away from the crystal, staring at his feet. “Icesculptor… icesculptor…” he muttered.

  “It’s alright, Billy,” Nakais said quickly. “Icesculptors can be super powerful too! They’re like hardened tidebreakers. I know you’ll do great.”

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  “We can spar,” Billiam said.

  “What?” Nakais asked, confused.

  “We can spar, and I’ll kick your butt!” Billiam hollered, grinning wide. “I can be your rival now!”

  Nakais laughed. “How about we team up instead?”

  “Even better!” Billiam shouted, jumping into his brother’s arms.

  ‘And now it’s only us,’ Redeyes said. ‘How unexpected.’

  All the remaining crystals belonged to the rarer denominations of fantasia. Sixty percent of Troqua’s population were channelers, and only a third of them had effective control over their powers. And yet, Skye had always felt a calling for greatness within him, a connection to everything in nature, and assumed he belonged to those remaining twenty percent.

  His heart pounded in his ears as he stepped towards the next crystal, alone. His technique was flawless, he was sure of that. So why in the Void was he failing?

  Was he truly a dud?

  He wanted to scream. His success here was a matter of life and death, not just for him, but for the entire city. He wished the bell had saved someone else in that cave, someone more worthy.

  “Lighten up, man,” Nakais said, slapping his back. “You can do it.”

  Skye clenched his jaw. How pitiful did he look that Nakais felt the need to cheer him? He didn’t need this baboon and his group; they meant nothing to him.

  “Yeah, you’ll surely succeed,” Gafor said, giving a thumbs-up.

  “Go, Skye! Go, Skye! Go, Skye!” Billiam and Lastin chanted.

  “Make us proud!” Taris called, letting out a sharp whistle.

  His lips quirked into a smile. They sounded genuine, really wanting to see him pass. But the more he dwelled on it, the more his smile faltered. While they had dropped all previous enmities, he still clung to his hatred. He didn’t deserve this sympathy; he was deceiving them, taking advantage of their ignorance.

  ‘Good grief, every time I think you’ve reached the zenith of stupidity, you surprise me with a new high!’ Redeyes chided. ‘Are you seriously feeling shame? Toward Nakais? Have you channeled away your sanity?’

  Steeling his nerves against his own doubts, against his uncertain feelings towards the cheering boys, he proceeded to the next altar.

  “Psycho fantasia comes from the brain,” Varick said, summoning his attention.

  The mentalists’ crystal looked like stacked rolls of glass. Beside it, a rat squeaked hungrily, trapped in a small cage, and a thick layer of dust coated the altar’s base.

  “What denomination of mentalists can this test reveal?” Skye asked.

  “All of them,” Varick replied. “There are other tests to determine a mentalist’s specialties, but those come after passing this exam. For now, try raising a few dust particles.”

  “And the rat?”

  “Harmless,” Varick assured him. “It’s weak and drugged. If you create a mental link with it, I’ll sever it immediately.”

  Nearby, the bell popped into view. These crystals magnified Psycho fantasia which was what fed his bell. Its effects were severe already; there was no telling what would happen if it rang with aggrandized strength.

  “Take your time, Master Skye,” Varick said. “Take all the time in the world.”

  Breathing deeply, Skye raised a hand to the crystal. He dared not peek at the dust, or listen to the rat. His focus narrowed to the tether connecting him to the bell.

  Nothing happened.

  The bell vanished. The dust remained undisturbed. On the wheel in its cage, the rat ran.

  Skye was stumped. He was glad his curse didn’t activate, but he was confident his bell was of mentalist origins. Had all his research in the library been in vain?

  The remaining crystals passed in a haze. Varick’s voice felt distant, like it came from across a chasm. A chill spread through the hall, making Skye’s teeth chatter, and his body tremble. He tested a crystal without knowing what it did and failed at it too. And when he moved to the next one, he discovered there were none.

  ‘You useless excuse for a waste of oxygen! You failed! Because of your failure, everyone will die!’

  The world spun around him. Someone screamed for help. Thousands of little insects crawled up his legs and arms, eating him alive.

  Something landed on his shoulder.

  “Take it easy,” Nakais said softly, patting him. “I know you’re feeling awful now, but being a dud isn’t the end of the world. My father’s not a channeler, and he’s still one of the most powerful men in Troqua.”

  Heat surged to Skye’s face. He slapped Nakais’s hand away.

  “What do you know about anything?” he yelled, face twisted with fury. “You’ve got everything! You’re rich, you’re a firedancer, you’ve got your whole family! I have nothing! You hear me? Nothing! This was everything to me!”

  His voice cracked, spit flying. He ignored the moronic look on Nakais’s face and turned to Varick. “Find me a solution,” he snapped, “or I swear I’ll tell my grandfather it was you who failed to help me!”

  Varick regarded him with cold stoicism. “We have a few other crystals we offer to everyone who—”

  “I will test them all. Now!” Skye shouted.

  With a resigned nod, Varick headed toward the far end of the hall. A black stony cabinet hugged the wall, awaiting his key. Inside, rows of cracked and splintered crystals lined the shelves like colorful, broken teeth.

  He retrieved the leftmost crystal from the top shelf. “These are fragile and unstable. This one is for connectors. It can—”

  Skye snatched it and immediately poured his strength into it.

  “Please be careful!” Varick yelped, jumping back. When nothing happened, he retrieved it from Skye as delicately as if lifting a baby from beneath a sleeping stonebear’s claw.

  “Next one,” Skye demanded.

  Piece by piece, row by row, they went over all the crystals until they reached the last.

  Barely able to breathe, Skye asked, “What’s this one for?”

  “Soap,” Varick replied, handing Skye a blue bar of soap along with the mint cream crystal.

  “Soap?” Skye asked, frowning.

  “Yes. If you activate it, you become a bubbleblower,” Varick said, straight-faced.

  Laughter sounded behind, and Skye shot the boys such a terrible I-will-kill-you-all glare that not even a smile remained on their faces.

  He turned back to Varick. “Is this a joke?”

  “No. There are three confirmed bubbleblowers in Troqua’s history. One was discovered recently.”

  Skye vowed to end himself if he turned out to be a bubbleblower. What was he supposed to do if he were to run into an elexos in the forest? Scrub it clean?

  “Sounds like a good fit for a janitor,” someone whispered. Nakais shushed them.

  Putting all his hopes on this one final little crystal, Skye tried his best.

  And failed.

  ‘I expected nothing from you,’ Redeyes said. ‘And I’m still disappointed.’

  As Skye clutched hard, the crystal in his hand started to crack, while the other dug into the soap, gouging it apart. Aghast, Varick plucked the crystal from him and hurriedly locked the cabinet.

  From his pocket, Varick retrieved the lunalines and the envelope and placed them on a table next to Skye, repeating his apology and saying he wants no trouble. Then he shooed the boys away, leaving Skye alone.

  With his bell.

  Some channelers had special powers that didn’t fall under any denomination. Was his bell an instance of such? Did that mean it couldn’t be removed?

  Back in the Deeps, when the elexos launched its torn arm, it flew so fast, he didn’t even have time to blink. His bell could only protect him for a short while, afterwards, his headache became a hindrance. The chances of him being able to cross through the Smaragdine Forest, and over the mountains, with thousands of elexii roaming everywhere were null.

  “At every juncture in your life, you can make a choice,” Stenser had said.

  ‘Well now, dud. Still planning to go to Kastrala?’ Redeyes asked.

  “Do I have any other choice?” Skye replied.

  ‘I guess not. Let’s go and die!’

  “No. I have an idea.”

  ‘I hope it’s stupid.’

  “Very.”

  ?????Days until Green Eve: 23?????