More than Kezil’s declaration of the Dauntless going to war, the fact he remembered me and - after a few probing questions - our previous conversations, left me surprised.

I’d, on some level, dismissed the people inside the trial as temporary constructs. Interesting, sure, but not real.

The fact he remembered me threw everything I’d been assuming into doubt.

“Can’t believe the captain approved a week on, week off rotation for you,” Kezil said, shaking his head as he led me to the first of our tasks for the day. Repairing a scout craft, a completely new design that wasn’t part of the Dauntless’s original complement. “Really must be the Dragon’s gift to enchantineering.”

“I… wouldn’t say that,” I replied, half-distracted by the sheer elegance of the scout ship’s engines.

“Me either, but can’t see why else the captain’d let you off so easy. Not like she’s known to show favoritism,” Kezil said, kneeling down next to me.

“She didn’t explain herself to me,” I said, deciding it would be easier to play along.

“No surprise there. Can’t imagine old Sidhe explains herself to many,” Kezil said, clapping my shoulder.

It took a moment for my enhanced memory to recall where I’d heard the name before. That was the name of Perth’s aunt. The sister of Aranor that Balthum had apparently come to the Frigid Peaks with.

What were the chances she’d somehow ended up captaining Terra Vista’s main dreadnought? It was more likely that she was some other Sidhe, right?

“Though, come to think of it, you do kinda look like her, ‘cept you don’t have the rounded ears, of course,” Kezil said, gesturing roughly in my direction. “Could be, she has a soft spot.”

I twitched those ears. Usually it was easy to forget about them while we were inside, since they were a natural part of the trial’s form, but whenever attention was called to them, the pure incongruity struck.

Still, at that moment, I was more focused on the fact that the captain apparently had round ears. Human ears.

“How long’s she been captain, anyway?” I asked even as I started on the repairs to the scout ship. Despite the elegance of the engine, it was in rough shape. All the elegance on Ro’an wasn’t enough to save it from monstrous quills that were stronger than titanium.

It was honestly a testament to the skill of the original enchanter that the ship hadn’t simply crashed.

“Going on two decades now. Heard she was responsible for getting the funding together to get Dauntless off the ground. Can’t imagine what she was thinking with them engines but then I’ve never had much of a head for politics,” Kezil said, grunting as he hauled over a cart full of enchanting supplies. “I’ll take care of the grunt work, you use those fancy fingers of yours to touch this up. Too fine for me.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. While there hadn’t been any enchanting work as delicate as the scout ship, I hadn’t gotten the impression Kezil’s skills were any worse than mine.

Still, it was a good opportunity to learn.

As I did so, I realized there hadn’t been any announcement when I’d joined the trial. Did I not have to do anything? Or maybe I just needed to go visit Keeper on the main bridge whenever I was ready to be finished.

Which would be unfortunate. I was kind of hoping I’d get a chance to talk to the being. An actual extended conversation where it wasn’t constantly fighting to be free.

“Aye, might not be the Dragon’s second coming, but you do have a talent for the work,” Kezil said a few hours later as he inspected my repairs. “Not many who can freehand an enchantment like that.”

“I mean, how else are we supposed to do it?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Boy, you have the strangest gaps in your education,” Kezil said, shaking his head. “Come on, let’s get some lunch and I’ll fill you in on the enchanting press.”

He really didn’t have to say more than that for me to put together the idea. By the time we’d received our food and drink, I’d already started thinking of dozens of ways I could build a press for enchanting.

It wouldn’t be able to do the actual enchantment of course. You had to be a living mage to do that. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t build tools that assisted a mage in the process. The most obvious would be some sort of mechanical assist, one that basically held the enchanter’s hand and moved it in the right motions.

That wasn’t what Kezil was talking about though. The enchanting press that had been used for the scout ship was a recent design, only a decade old. One that’d come out of the central Shaper’s Academy, which was located in Terra Centra, Terra Vista’s former capital city.

It hadn’t had that title for five centuries, since Terra Vista had abolished even having a capitol city around that time. It still carried a lot of history and prestige.

Or it had, before the recent civil war. From all I’d heard, most of the lands around Terra Centra had been devastated, and there hadn’t been any contact with the city itself since the Bladesingers had started their brutal culling.

“The enchanting press is simple enough,” Kezil said, tapping his tablet then handing it to me, the design laid out across nearly twenty pages. “At least, the theory part, anyway.”

I chuckled as I looked through the design.

“It’s a matter of setting all the outer edges in place, so an enchanter can’t go past. Requires doing the design in layers that’ll fit inside, but there’ve been improvements on that front, or so I’ve heard,” Kezil said, leaning back and taking a sip from his mug. “Thicker layers and designs meant to snap together.”

“It’s… ingenious,” I said, leaning back. The most amazing part was that the enchantment could be designed by someone with zero skill in actual enchanting and all they’d need would be a semi-competent ensouled to come along and feed the process.

There were limits though. For one, they couldn’t use any materials that were too bulky for the layer the enchantment was printed on. Which immediately eliminated more than three-quarters of the available materials at tier-1 alone.

But when used in combination…

I thought back to the engine I’d spent the last few hours repairing. It was easy to see where each type of enchanting had been done in hindsight.

There’d been sections that were sloppier than the rest, connecting the primary tier-3 air materials to the core enchantment. It’d been so close to the quills we’d removed I’d assumed that was a result of the damage.

Kezil held his hand out for his pad and I realized this was another of those designs he wasn’t supposed to show me.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Don’t suppose we’d be able to see one of those in action,” I said, finally digging into my food. It’d gotten cold.

Food really shouldn’t be able to get cold inside of a trial.

“Ha, you might just, considering how the captain’s been treating ya,” Kezil said, shaking his head before taking a long draw from his mug. “Not me though. Captain’d sooner split me down the middle than let me off the ship.”

“You make it sound like the captain’s a harsh woman,” I said.

“Harsh ain’t the word for it. Dedicated, to the point of obsession,” Kezil said, leaning back and staring into space. “As though the stars themselves are dropping from the heavens, and it’s her job to set them back again. Have to be like that, I suppose, to get a thing like this built. Especially so, since she wasn’t born in the Vista.”

“She wasn’t born in Terra Vista?”

“Near as I heard it, she’s from some place out west. One of the Hundred Kingdoms that run along the Front. Not too many of those. Need to be strong to survive that close as a Souled,” Kezil said, voice distant. “They don’t support each other, way Terra Vistan’s do. Every Kingdomer for themselves, way I hear it.”

“Sounds rough,” I said, nodding along.

“Might be that’s what made the captain so strong. Adversity being the hammer and anvil both,” Kezil said. Then he shook his head, downed the last of his mug and glared at me. “Now enough lollygagging. We’ve work to be about.”

“Aye sir,” I said, giving him a mock salute which only earned a rough grumble from the old enchantineer.

Even as I followed him to our next task, my eyes drifted towards the bridge. It sounded like Sidhe really had ended up in Terra Vista. Had she been aboard the Dauntless when we rode past on the way to the Gate, all those months ago.

And where was she now? What exactly had Perth’s aunt been trying to achieve, when she’d decided that she needed a dreadnought’s firepower?

More importantly… why were Keeper and Conflict showing it to me?

The next couple days were mostly spent working on new types of enchantments as all the most difficult repairs were sent to us.

It turned out we were part of a fleet dealing with a surge of monsters that had broken free of the Front, all retreating from one of the Warwalkers.

A Warwalker that was making its way towards the fleet.

Apparently my expertise meant we were getting ships back into the fight instead of having to send for replacement parts or, even worse, sending the damaged ships back east.

To my surprise, the troupe of Bladesingers were still on board, performing in the evenings. Vaden even greeted me warmly when he saw me. As did Suzenne, though she seemed to have found another fellow she was sweet on, to my relief.

The fact all three remembered me left me feeling disquieted. It made me wonder if Conflict or Keeper were, somehow, using real people.

And if they were… where had they gotten them from?

My thoughts left me spiraling into deeper and deeper tangents on the third evening inside the trial. A pair of mugs were set down with a thud, drawing me out. Vaden took the chair across from me, straddling it backwards, his arms resting on the backrest. “You’re looking far too thoughtful for a man who’s already put in a full day’s work. What has your soul out of sorts, brother?”

“Not sure you’d understand,” I said, looking around the open plaza. The other Bladesingers had gathered at a table on the far side, and Kezil was flirting with the same pair of older women he often did. He’d likely disappear soon with one or both of them.

“Well, you won’t know unless you try. And even if I do not, one can not properly test their thrusts without another to parry,” Vaden said, pushing one of the mugs he’d brought across the table. “Drink, speak, test.”

“Are you familiar with mental constructs? Spells like Memory Palace?” I asked, deciding to work with something I knew existed, at least in Spellford.

“Passing familiar. Never been in one myself,” Vaden said, managing to attain the height of irony without even trying.

“Not even once, huh?” I asked, unable to keep the amused smirk off my face.

“Not once,” Vaden confirmed. “Met a therapist who swore by them who tempted me. In his generosity, he offered me a trial, yet I was unable to take him up on it at the time.”

“That’s… huh,” I said, leaning back. “A pretty interesting use for them.”

“What makes you ask?” Vaden prodded while nursing his drink, peering over its lip with raised brows.

“You ever heard of there being intelligent beings inside one?” I asked, deciding to be direct.

“Sure. Think that’s one of the benefits, isn’t it? Being able to put yourself in a spell mirage?”

“Ah, right,” I said, rubbing at the bridge of my nose. “I don’t mean people who know they’ve joined one. I mean, other folk who’re self-aware but not to the point of being aware their world is… well, built on a spell.”

“Think I might’ve heard of a spell like that, though it was just rumors. One of the Free Walkers came through talking about it.”

“So… the only time you’ve heard of it was when one of the wandering Dragon-souled was maybe working on a spell that might do it?” I asked, finally taking the mug he’d brought me. “Seems pretty thin.”

“Sorry, not really me specialty. You may wish to ask Suzenne, I believe she’s a rather enthusiastic spell hobbyist,” Vaden said, tipping his cup in her direction.

“Might just,” I said, taking another sip as my gaze shifted towards her. “Care to join me?”

“I suppose I could be convinced,” Vaden said, smile wide. “It is always amusing watching you attempt to ward her off without impaling her heart upon the edge of your words.”

“Uh, she’s got a new boyfriend, so that shouldn’t be a problem… right?” I asked, suddenly having second thoughts.

“Perhaps,” Vaden replied, waggling his eyebrows at me.

Sighing, I braced myself before leading him over to the elven woman. She perked up when I arrived, smiling up at me.

Before Vaden’s comment, I would’ve just assumed she was happy to see a friend, but now I was worried it was more than that. Still, I had bigger concerns that a trial’s artificially inspired romance subplot. “Hi Suzenne, Vaden was telling me you had an interest in spells?”

“Oh yes,” Suzenne said, pushing the elf I’d assumed was her new boyfriend to the side to make room for us on the bench. After a few grumbled complaints, he got up and left, Suzenne not even bidding him goodbye.

Rubbing my nose at the blatant disrespect, I shook my head then took the seat farther from her, leaving Vaden the middle.

“So, what did you want to know? I imagine an enchantineer like you sees all sorts of interesting spells,” Suzenne said, leaning past an amused Vaden who pretended not to notice.

I repeated the scenario I’d described to Vaden.

Suzenne leaned back, tapping at her chin with a single hooked finger. “Don’t think there are any spells that work like that on their own. But there’s a couple ‘dark’ projects that were theorized to do something of the sort.”

“Dark projects?”

“Altean special operations,” Suzenne replied, ears perking up. “They got up to all sorts of crazy stuff towards the end. Sort of stuff that gives you chills. Like taking groups of kids and sticking them in isolation tanks bombarded with rare mana to force them to awaken. Or when they disappeared entire villages after their ‘loyalty’ programs failed.”

Her excited tone was a stark contrast to her words.

“That… that’s awful,” I said, shuddering. None of that had been in any of the history Perth had learned. Or the books I’d recovered from the Aranor family library. “Do the Altean Fragments still do that sort of thing?”

“Probably. Would have to be able to visit to know, wouldn’t we?”

“I don’t actually know much about the Altean Fragments. Other than they don’t get out much and are north of the Hundred Kingdoms,” I said, giving her the lead.

“They’re really interesting. As I hear it, despite the Altean Fragments being so close to the Hundred Kingdoms, there’s basically no trade. Even the Free Hills trade more, and they’re the most xenophobic people on Ro’an,” Suzenne said, shaking her head. “After we all got together and brought down the Altean Empire’s capital, the Fragments created a barrier, one that tore up their borders. Supposed to be even more effective than the one on the Front.”

“That’s… certainly something.”

“Only, their barrier cut a whole sixth of the continent off, trapping everything and everyone inside. Even travel by air’s impossible. Anyone who tries ends up crashing inside and not coming back out. Scrying is out too,” Suzenne said, clearly warming to the subject. “Heard that after the war was over the surviving kingdoms decided it wasn’t worth spending too much time worrying about, since their barrier kept things in as much as out. People spotting the occasional patrol on the inside’s the only reason we know there’s anyone still alive inside.”

“You… know a lot about this. Student of history?”

“Oh no, I’m just a hobbyist,” Suzenne denied, suddenly flushing. “It’s just fun, is all.”

“So… did the Alteans ever succeed with their experiments, with putting intelligent beings inside their mental constructs?”

“Well, only kinda,” Suzenne replied, her voice dropping as she looked between me and Vaden. The first time she’d acknowledged he was even there. She lowered her voice, leaning forward. “There’s rumors they had a secret project that let them capture souls. Then they’d take the soul and put it in a mental construct, using it to extract information without the soul realizing what was happening.”

I stared at Suzenne. Then my gaze shifted to Vaden, who’s face had scrunched up.

Finally, I looked over at Kezil, who was dancing with both of the ladies he’d been flirting with earlier.

“Apparently it was all based on a report they’d dug up about some place called Aeternia. Pretty crazy stuff, huh?” Suzenne asked, her voice an excited whisper.

Once more, I looked around at the only folk in the trial who felt real.

Folk who likely had been exactly that at some point.

People who I was becoming friends with… or the souls of such, at the very least.

“Yeah… crazy.”