“Oi, lad, are you sure this is a good idea?”

  The boy fixed his cap after speaking out, fiddling with his fingers. Jacob's eyes darted around the room, despite Ayn's warning of simply going on with his day like usual. If he looked like something was up, their plan might get ruined.

  The elf, sitting beside him in the mess hall, tried to keep his calm, but clicked his tongue every once in a while. He was deep in thought, his eyes pointed at the ground while his fingers traced imaginary lines, as if drawing a scheme.

  From his free hand, a rhythmical, tapping noise could be heard. He clicked his tongue once more, throwing back his head and extending his arms upwards.

  “I don't know. I honestly don't know, man. It's quick and easy, I just hope… Well, I just hope I wasn't wrong.”

  His eyes leered into the Tribefolk's. There was an unusually serious note in them, as well as a hint of anxiety.

  Between their initial meeting the day before, and the current day, the two had managed to spend some more time together. Most of it was spent discussing Ayn's ideas on how to get Jacob closer to Sol, as well as his own motives.

  And although he only provided unclear answers for the latter, he managed to draw up a few schemes for the former. The problem was, the one they ended up choosing, held as much danger as it did potential.

  For reasons unknown to the Tribefolk, Ayn knew a lot about Sol, and the Empire in general. Of course, he wasn't going to question how he came into possession of that knowledge, so long as it helped him.

  Ayn was, also, considerably smarter than Jacob. The latter didn't like to admit it, unless it was through a snarly paragon between the elf and Sol. Which was how he drew a correlation between specific events in the Empire.

  “Have you ever noticed how weird the laws in Teiws are?” Ayn opened the conversation suddenly, the day before, right before they left the washroom.

  “Huh… Nah, not really, mate. Couldn't be bothered to study ‘em at the academy.”

  He added internally, ‘except for the basic ones’. The elf nodded, with a thoughtful expression, and continued speaking.

  “Hm… Ah, I guess it's not the laws, it's how they enact them.”

  Jacob pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on, striding towards Ayn with crossed arms. His brow was raised, intrigued by what the elf was trying to tell him. He mumbled under his breath, thinking of how to explain it.

  “There's a lot of strict Teiwesian laws, right?” Jacob nodded.

  “But, especially among young people and children, the worst punishment that a person can get is usually getting sent to prison.”

  He nodded once more, reaffirming Ayn's statement. The elf placed his hands on top of the metallic sink, before tracing a diagram in the air with floating lines of Ark. Floating figures of various sizes appeared.

  His finger drew a line at the middle of the grouped up figures, separating the larger ones from the smaller ones.

  “They’d rather sort out good kids than dish out rough punishments, yeah. What about it, then?”

  Ayn repurposed the floating Ark, creating a symbol representing the sun.

  “Don't you find it weird, how even harsher punishments get watered down to some time in prison?”

  Jacob raised his brow once again, trying to figure out where he was leading with that.

  “And, more importantly. How many people did Sol scout, from prisons and holding establishments? How many did he recruit from the military academy?”

  The Tribefolk's hand, who had been stroking his chin up to that point, dropped lower. His eyes widened, finally figuring out what Ayn was trying to say.

  “He only scouts imprisoned peeps, not rookies or students. But why?”

  Ayn shook his head. He spoke with an uncertain tone.

  “Can’t tell. But, if he sent you here…”

  Jacob finally caught onto what he had been trying to say from the start. The reason he was sent to prison at all, rather than being let off scot-free for his misfiring, was that Sol was already attempting to recruit him.

  His surprised expression quickly shifted into one of scorn and disgust towards that man, as he clicked his tongue.

  “Bloody bastard. So he wants me on board? Why not let him, innit?”

  He turned towards Ayn, a smirk spreading on his face. Some ideas were starting to brew in his head.

  Back at the mess hall, the day after, the confidence he showed initially was starting to wane. He wanted to go through with the plan they had made, but he was starting to realize just how dangerous it could be.

  Looking down, Ark crackled in the air around Jacob's hands. He was somewhat at unease, but he would be lying if he said he didn't want to go through with it. He took a deep breath, the circuits retreating back in the deeper parts of his body.

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  At its core, the plan was a simple one. There was a big chance Sol had sent him to the prison to eventually recruit him. Neither Jacob nor Ayn knew why he would take those extra steps, instead of asking him directly, but that was almost certain.

  They could use that. They were planning on having Jacob show off himself, to impress Sol and lead him to ask him to join them. Ayn still didn't know what exactly Sol was planning with the recruited prisoners, but that didn't matter yet.

  So long as Jacob managed to get closer to Sol, and gain back his freedom, it would be fine. The practical part of the plan was where things got risky, though. The Tribefolk knew exactly what he needed to impress Sol.

  Which meant, he would have to start a fight and come out victorious. However, most of the prisoners there were too weak to put up a good fight. If he wanted to really catch Sol's attention, he needed to aim for someone strong.

  Both of them had been observing Sol, even before meeting each other. And lately, both of them noticed a specific prisoner following him around during meals, and occasionally during the free time.

  She always wore a hood, but thanks to that, Ayn recognized her as the person that took Arthur away during the incident at the Moonstone Refinement Facility. A small grudge from this, plus the fact that if Sol had scouted her she surely was strong, made her the perfect target for their plan.

  Now, they just needed to wait until the two came to the mess hall, to enact it. Jacob was fiddling with his fingers, he was the one that would do the fighting, so it made sense he was tense. Even if he was pretty trigger happy, starting a premeditated fight felt wrong.

  Not to mention, just attacking or knocking her out wouldn't do. He was thinking up ways on how to make the fight flashy, on how to make himself look good enough for Sol to decide he was ripe with potential.

  “They're here.”

  Ayn shot up, pointing with his chin towards one of the entrances of the mess hall. Through it usually came guards and officers, and from it Sol and the girl entered the room. They were quiet, not talking to each other.

  Jacob's gaze was trained on the girl. His anxiousness quickly faded, replaced by a feeling of expectation. Although this might very well have been a bad idea, he wasn't one to back down from a good fight. He waited a few seconds.

  “Just as you said, innit?”

  Ayn smirked and nodded. Soon enough, Sol placed one hand on top of the girl's head, telling her some words they couldn't hear with a smile, before heading towards the line for the food.

  The girl headed towards one of the tables reserved for guards and officers, awkwardly sitting alone while waiting for Sol.

  Jacob locked eyes with Ayn. They nodded to each other, and the Tribefolk strove forward a number of steps.

  His Gift was named ‘Gift of Long Reach’. Its name was as simple as the ability that it granted its holder, that being, he was able to cast magic spells at a longer distance than most. Although simple on paper, how it worked was actually more complex.

  The Gift didn't simply let his spells travel further, or magic projectiles last longer. But rather, it allowed him to extend his Ley Lines outside of his body, travelling on surfaces and essentially extending the reach of the ‘starting point’ of a spell.

  That was the trick behind his seemingly instantaneous explosions that Ayn was surprised by. There was a big difference between having a longer range, and being able to cast a spell from range. And Jacob was a master at abusing that.

  From the opposite side of the room, Irene noticed a prisoner glaring at her. She felt like she had seen him already somewhere, but couldn't remember where at the moment. A sigh escaped her lips, closing her eyes for a moment.

  It wasn't uncommon for prisoners to resent her, especially those that got to know her in the brief time she spent in prison. By now, she was more than used to ignoring hateful and scornful glares.

  It's not like she was completely free, either. She had gained that small amount of freedom, and was reminded that she wasn't a full cadet everyday. She had still a long way to go, until she could call herself independent.

  Her elbow fell to the table's surface, resting her head on top of her hand. She would wait for Sol to bring her a bowl of food, make some idle chit chat with him, maybe answer some questions about Arthur and what she got out of him, then she'd be free for the day.

  She could go work if she wanted, but thanks to Sol's favor she had some income. Her days were starting to get a little less boring, too, thanks to the new guy's presence and a few interesting books she found at the library.

  “I wonder what Arthur's doing… Maybe he's still sleeping…”

  She giggled to herself, covering her mouth with her hand. She wanted to visit him, and had an excuse ready, that being asking him whether he had made up his mind about accepting Sol's offer. Her lips curved upwards slightly.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a sizzling sound, coming from the wooden table. Her eyes darted open, trained on the circuits transporting Ark towards her. A roaring explosion spread right beneath her.

  The Behemoth had barely any time to react. The wooden splinters, shot outwards by the burst of energy, embedded themselves on her face and arms. She kicked the ground under her feet, and dashed away from the table.

  Like needles poking at her nerves, her instincts were pointing her to a spot on the opposite side of the room. She once again locked eyes with that boy. Scorn was nowhere to be seen in his pupils.

  A smirk framed his face, under the shade of his cap. He was challenging her, daring her to come at him. Ark flickered at the tips of her fingers, shifting and morphing in the air. She looked over at Sol. He nodded at her.

  She strode forward. The boy waited for her to reach a feasible distance, before crossing his arms and looking down at her. The height difference wasn't too noticeable, but it was enough to make him feel a bit more confident.

  “Have we met before? Or is blowing up tables your way of saying hello to strangers?”

  “Blimey, can't say I had the pleasure. No hard feelings, yeah?”

  Irene clicked her tongue, in annoyance at his behaviour. His gaze lingered on her, as did hers on him. They were both waiting for the other to do the first move. Sparks of Ark filled the air between them.

  Jacob's Ley Lines started to expand. From his cores, they took shape and ran down his body, reaching the floor. Although spells and magic were visible, Ley Lines were invisible to the naked eye. Until Ark passed through them, it was impossible to see a magic circuit.

  Energy burst out of his Core, through Jacob's body and onto the ground. His finger twitched. The Behemoth's feet kicked off the ground, closing the distance in an instant and kicking up some dust.

  Explosions trailed in the air behind her, tracing their way backwards from her original position, towards her. With some distances still between them, her reptilian claws slashed at the air. Jacob wasn't able to follow it with his eyes, but something slashed his cheek in that instant.

  “Tricky Gift…” She muttered to herself, trying to figure out the trick behind his instantaneous spells.

  “And you ain't too shabby either, lass.” He answered, cleaning away the dripping blood from his cheek.

  Meanwhile, two people were examining the fight, from distances away. A man with sunglasses covering his eyes, and a short haired elf. In an unfortunate turn of events, their eyes met. Ayn felt a chill run down his spine, for some reason.

  The next moment, he saw Sol tapping on the shoulders of another, nearby guard. He pointed at the elf, and said something which, guessing from the lip reading, was scarily close to ‘seize him’.