I. The Ritual Hall

— Calnaria, the warded city. The boundary is quietly maintained. Those who sustain it are the mages. *** On that day, Elaine Aldia stood on the verge of her assignment to the Capital Mage Corps. All that remained was the rite in the ritual hall. Passing through the stone corridor, the space opened. The ceiling was high. Light seeped from deep within the walls. The pale stone returned sound softly. At the center lay a shallow circular hollow, with fine engraved lines ran along its rim in layered rings. It was old, yet well kept. Water was brought. A porcelain vessel, pure white. Not much. A priest in white robes stood beside the hollow. The others waited at a slight distance. The mages in military uniform stood further out, forming a circle. All of them were men. Only Elaine differed. Elaine took her assigned position. The priest lifted the vessel. Water was poured quietly. The sound as it touched the stone was small. Yet it spread through the entire space. A faint ripple formed on the surface. — It did not settle at once. At the bottom of the hollow, the water did not still. It was drawn downward. Sound receded. The outline of the space loosened. Elaine’s breath lagged. No one moved. The outer mages shifted their gaze slightly. Not enough to seem abnormal. But the equilibrium was beginning to falter. The surface sank. The hollow seemed to continue inward. Then, a gloved hand rose—just slightly. The angle of the fingers changed. That was all. A thin, invisible line cut through the air. The sinking surface halted. Sound returned. Stone walls. The weight of the air. Certainty beneath one’s feet. Everything settled back into place. No one spoke. One of the outer mages gave a small nod. Elaine slowly steadied her breath. Before her stood the mage in uniform. His hand already lowered. He stood quietly, as if he had done nothing. His gaze remained on her. Their eyes met. Then he turned his gaze away. The water lay there, still and unchanged.