Dawn met Caen meditating on the roof.

He'd woken up at 2 in the morning and hadn't been able to go back to sleep.

Soul-sense worked just fine.

Caen had cried hot tears of relief. He'd unfurled his existence as easily as breathing. That beautiful tapestry of his soul structure, with its myriad sensations and arcane vibrations, was like music to his ears.

Unable to return to sleep, he'd spent the early hours of the morning observing the thread clusters on his soul structure. He tried to notice the impressions they gave and acquaint himself with all their nuances.

It was slow and laborious work, taking up a lot of mental concentration and effort, which was all well and good because Caen didn't want to dwell on how frightened he'd been. He never wanted to go another second without knowing for certain that Mimicry was still there. He promised himself that he would keep his existence unfurled all the time from now on.

In fact, today I'm just going to—

A small pebble hit him in the face. His eyes snapped open, vision uninterrupted.

“Over here, Caen,” Aunt Vensha said to his left. She was waving at him from the ground below.

“Did you just stone me?”

“Come on down,” she said. “Your parents are back. I ran ahead of them, but they’re a few paces behind me. Wake Zeris if she isn't up already.”

Caen went back into his room through its sole window.

Zeris was asleep on the dining table, which was a mess. Her studying materials lay strewn about. And the quilt sweater she wore had biscuit particles on it.

He shook her awake. “Folks are back. And I need your help to do the thing.”

“Tak!” she swore, springing up to her feet and startling him. Her crazed eyes and bedhead made her look menacing. “Are you sure they're back?” she asked, trying futilely to clean up.

In answer, keys jangled at the front door. “Yes,” Caen said unhelpfully. “I'm sure.”

Familiar spirit tendrils grazed Caen's spirit before the door slid open to reveal Aunt Grena, Zeris's mom. She was the twin sister of Caen's father, and the resemblance was striking. Behind her were both his parents.

“Welcome back!” Caen and Zeris said in unison.

“Zeris, have you been sleeping at the dining table again?” Aunt Grena huffed as both of them wrapped her in a tight hug. “It's bad for your back!”

“Hey, look! The cooling wards still work,” Ergen noted with a smile as Caen hugged him.

“Very funny, Dad,” Caen said, then hugged his mother. “I wasn't expecting you guys back so soon. I made vegetable smoothies, though.”

“Ugh,” Aunt Grena said, pulling a chair and dropping into it. “None for me, thank you very much.”

Caen lifted an eyebrow. “Really, you? Saying no to vegetables?” She'd gotten him to start drinking smoothies as a child.

“No, really, dear,” his mom said with a grimace. “Thank you, but I don't think we'll be able to stomach anything blended or… goopy for some time yet.”

Caen squinted at that.

His Dad opened the cooling box and looked inside. “Oh my! Okay, that's a lot of meat.”

“We wanted to cook you all something nice,” Zeris said, making a show of cleaning up the table.

“We?” Caen asked, a mischievous smile on his face as he connected to her.

Zeris ran her index finger across her neck, mouthing, “I'll kill you.”

Vensha pushed her elder brother aside to grab a pitcher of the smoothie. “Well, I for one am really glad you’re back, Ergen. I haven't eaten real food in ages.”

“Neither have we!” Ergen said, reaching for an apron hanging on the wall. “I'm actually in the mood to whip up something right now.” He glanced at Caen. “Interested in giving your old man a hand?”

Even though he already had plans, Caen hid his hesitation with a smile. “Sure. Why not?”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Everyone helped in whatever way they could, even Vensha, who didn't enjoy cooking. Caen carefully conformed his Fire affinity to Zeris's as he worked. By the time he was done, he was chopping up a slab of ham. He glanced at the clock on the wall, nearly half past seven. His meeting with Uncle Vai was in half an hour. He was going to have to postpone that.

“Mom, could you pass something along to Uncle Vai for me?” Caen asked.

“Of course, dear. Do you mean now?” She was slicing meat beside him.

“Yes, please. Tell him ‘false alarm’, and that—” Zeris moved out of view, but Caen adjusted his position immediately to keep her in his field of vision. “And that I need our meeting moved to 10 in the morning.”

“Oh? Does this have anything to do with that secret project you've been working on?”

“Something like that,” he hedged. “I'll tell you about it after you've all gotten some rest.”

His dad looked back at him from where he was stirring broth in a pot. “If this is something we should be worried about, it might be better to not put it off.”

Caen nodded. “You're right. Mom?”

He caught his parents sharing a troubled look. Sh'leinu dropped her knife and wiped her hands on her apron. “Let me pass your message to Vai.”

She went to sit at the dining table and closed her eyes. The fingers on her left hand spasmed quickly in an abbreviated spell component.

The spell to project one's consciousness into the Astral Realm was of the second elevation, and of course, Caen was incapable of even casting it.

His mother slouched a fraction in her seat, body going limp. Her eyeballs flitted rapidly behind her eyelids for about a minute, then her eyes snapped open.

She nodded. “Done. He says he'll be waiting.”

The silence that followed was an expectant one.

In answer to it, Caen's fingers flitted through gestures, and he conjured eight fist-sized fireballs simultaneously. It strained his focus to do this and had taken several embarrassing seconds longer than he'd expected. He Impassioned all of them immediately and began rotating them above his head.

His mother's eyes widened in shock as she stood abruptly, her chair clattering behind her. At the same time, his father let out a startled curse. Zeris rolled her eyes.

“Let me explain,” Caen said.

* * *

Under the glare of the sun, Caen ran down to Uncle Vai's house.

It was a few minutes to 10 in the morning, and he'd had to peel himself away from his parents' unrelenting questions. They seemed as happy for him as they were deeply concerned.

Uncle Vai—or more accurately, his physical body—lived in an unassuming duplex at the heart of the commune. It was the only unpainted building here, and that made it stand out all the more.

Caen used the ornate door knocker on the arched door, and a bespectacled man in a clean, maroon suit answered it. His head was shorn and tattooed in high Vedul aesthetic. Hshnol was Uncle Vai's personal assistant, responsible for overseeing the staff and attendants who worked here. He also ran errands and carried out tasks for Vai in the Material Realm. He was always politely aloof and had a very distinct presence about him.

“Good morning, Hshnol,” Caen said politely, as the man let him into the house. He took off his boots immediately and placed them in a rack by the wall. The floor was covered with plush carpeting.

“A good morning to you as well, Ar’Caen Ereshta'al. Master Vai said to expect you. This way, please.”

The antechamber had a sliding door that opened into a grand living room. Drapes with gold tassels and trimmings. Walls painted white and lined with scripted Inshol motifs.

Hshnol led Caen up a spiral staircase. The entire top floor was a single room. White and gold marble covered the walls, and the plush carpeting here was white as snow. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, though it gave off no light at the moment. Broad windows illuminated the interior with daylight.

At the room's center was a circular, tiered platform, about five feet high, and on it sat a ridiculously large and round canopy bed on which lay Uncle Vai's ever-sleeping form. Short steps surrounded the gaudy and intricately decorated bed on all sides.

A woman sat on a masterfully carved, padded wooden chair beside the bed, her palm extended towards Vai. Her left hand was spasming through gestures as she muttered an incantation.

Caen had only met her a few times. She was one of several healers Uncle Vai kept on retainer to conserve his body and spirit. Being bedridden required a lot of care.

When she saw Hshnol and Caen, she brought her procedure to an end. Hshnol went forward to exchange quiet words with her, and she left. He turned to Caen. “I'll be downstairs if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Hshnol,” Caen said. He walked up the steps and sat in the extremely comfortable wooden chair beside Vai's bed.

Uncle Vai looked like he was asleep, though he hadn't been awake in over three decades. His skin was no paler than any other Ereshta’al’s. His bowl-cut hair was clearly being combed and trimmed regularly. His moustache was well-groomed. And his arms were crossed on his chest, fingertips touching his shoulders.

Caen rolled his eyes. He connected to Vai, and there was a moment's delay before the connection clicked into place. As soon as Vai's soul structure manifested, Caen could see a prominent thread cluster.

He cracked his neck and got to work. Isolating Vai's Dream-guarding affinity cluster. This took him quite a bit longer than usual.

While he worked, he wondered about that. Did Uncle Vai's higher affinity have something to do with this? The man refused to say what his rating was, but Caen had always suspected that it must be quite impressive.

When Caen had completely Mimicked Vai's affinity, he let out a shaky sigh. His mind felt sharper than ever before, better in every way. His thoughts felt clearer.

Caen could tell that this was a strong affinity. He simply couldn't wait to see what he could do with this. His spirit sang to him, urging him to cast a spell. A laugh escaped his mouth before he could keep it back. He cast the time display spell, and it felt like the easiest thing he'd ever done. It came like lightning. Instant. And it felt so natural, so right. He let out a pleased sigh as he briefly admired the time construct.

He brought out his grimoire from his bag and flipped to the page where he'd meticulously outlined the spell schema for astral projection spells.