After the Ceremony, they were returned to the barracks. The atmosphere had changed. Fear remained, but something else was mixed in now. Awareness. They had survived. The first barrier was crossed. Out of a hundred candidates, sixty-three remained. Thirty-seven bodies had been carried out of the Awakening Chambers that day.
Syn sat on his bunk, leaning his back against the wall. His body ached as if it had been put through a meat grinder. Every muscle hurt. The Brand on his neck pulsed with a faint coldness, the skeletons stirring occasionally, reacting to something invisible.
He closed his eyes and tried to make sense of what had happened.
"Aspect: Shadow. Keeper of the Threshold. Anomaly."
The System couldn't classify him. That was bad. Anomalies drew attention. And the attention of the Special Department was the last thing he wanted. For now.
"But if they become interested in me, perhaps I can get to the information faster."
The thought was risky. The Special Department was the most secretive structure within the Order. Ordinary resonators didn't get in there. Only the chosen, the vetted, the impeccably loyal to the Empire. Or those deemed too dangerous to leave free.
"I will make myself useful. So useful they cannot ignore me."
The plan was vague, but it was a plan. Better than aimless wandering.
A quiet sob sounded nearby. Syn opened his eyes and looked at Lira. She was sitting on her bunk, hugging her knees, her face buried in them. Her shoulders shook.
Syn sighed.
"Not my problem."
But he climbed down from his bunk anyway and walked over to her.
«Lira.»
She lifted her head. Her eyes were red, wet with tears.
«I… I thought I'd die there. In that cistern. It was so frightening. The darkness, the voices… I didn't understand what was happening.»
Syn sat on the edge of her bunk.
«But you didn't die. You're here.»
«But Tarn and Alice aren't,» she whispered. «They died. Right there. I saw them being carried out. They were dead.»
«Death is part of this world,» Syn said quietly. «If you want to survive, you must accept that. They died. You are alive. That's all that matters.»
Lira looked at him with wide eyes.
«How can you say that? Aren't you scared?»
Syn was silent for a moment.
«I am. But fear won't help. It only slows you down. Do you want to go home? To your mother?»
Lira nodded, sniffling.
«Then survive. Become strong. Strong enough for the Order to let you go. Or at least give you the means to protect those you love.»
He stood up and returned to his bunk. Lira watched him but didn't cry anymore.
In the evening, they were gathered in a large hall. A long room with a high ceiling decorated with frescoes depicting battles of resonators. Flags with the symbols of various clans hung on the walls. Valterius, Kane, Solaris, Thunder Hammer. Twelve in all. The Great Houses of the Empire.
Instructor Varen stood on a dais before the ranks of new Apprentices. Three others in dark blue uniforms stood beside him. Teachers, judging by their insignia.
Varen raised a hand, demanding silence. The hall fell silent instantly.
«You have undergone the Awakening Ceremony. Now you are Apprentices. But do not delude yourselves. An Apprentice is the lowest rank in the Order. You are weaker than any Adept. You know nothing. Your power is a spark that can be extinguished at any moment.»
He paced along the dais, hands behind his back.
«Your task for the next six months is to learn to control your Aspect. Understand its nature. Open the first Gate. Those who succeed will become Adepts. Those who fail will be assigned to auxiliary duties. Or die during training.»
He stopped and looked at them all with a cold gaze.
«Your day will begin at six in the morning. Physical training until eight. Then breakfast. From nine until noon, resonance theory lessons. From one to four, practical work with your Aspect. From five to seven, combat training. Dinner at eight. Lights out at ten. Violations of the schedule are punishable. Questions?»
No one dared to raise a hand.
Varen nodded.
«Good. Classes begin tomorrow. Use this evening to rest. You'll need it.»
He turned and left the hall. The teachers followed him.
The Apprentices were dismissed. Syn returned to the barracks with the others. The atmosphere was tense. Everyone understood: the race had begun. A race for power, for survival, for the right to remain in the Order.
The night passed restlessly. Syn couldn't sleep. Thoughts swirled in his head, giving him no peace. Lian. The Special Department. Keeper of the Threshold. The Brand on his neck pulsed coldly, as if something were moving inside it.
He got out of his bunk and quietly climbed down. The barracks were plunged into darkness, illuminated only by the faint moonlight filtering through the windows. Most Apprentices were asleep. Some tossed and turned, moaning in their sleep.
Syn stepped outside. The night air was cool, smelling of stone and metal. The Institute was quiet. The sound of a patrol's footsteps could be heard in the distance. Order resonators guarded the territory around the clock.
Syn walked around the barracks and stepped onto the training field. A wide area covered in packed sand. Wooden dummies, leather-covered and stuffed with straw, stood in the center. Blunt metal training swords lay nearby.
Syn walked up to one of the dummies and stopped before it. He raised a hand and touched the wood. Cold, hard.
"Aspect: Shadow. What does it mean?"
He remembered the shadow's words. Keeper of the Threshold. Conductor. A path between worlds.
"What can I do?"
Syn closed his eyes and tried to feel the power within. The Brand on his neck responded. Coldness crept down his spine, spreading through his body. He felt something stir at the edge of his consciousness. The shadow.
"Show me."
The darkness within him quivered. And the world around him changed.
Syn opened his eyes. The dummy still stood before him. But now he saw something else. Thin, silvery lines stretching from the dummy in different directions. They glowed with a faint, ghostly light. Traces.
"These… are traces of blows?"
He looked closer. The lines crisscrossed the dummy in various places. Some were bright, fresh. Others dim, old. He understood. These were traces of all the blows ever struck against this dummy.
Syn reached out and touched one of the lines. The world around him shuddered. For an instant, he saw a different scene. An Apprentice, a young boy in a grey tunic, striking the dummy with a wooden sword. The blow landed on the shoulder. The dummy swayed.
The vision disappeared. Syn pulled his hand back, breathing heavily.
"I saw the past. One blow out of hundreds."
He took a step back, looking at the dummy. The lines still glowed before his eyes.
"Is this my power? To see traces of the past?"
The shadow within him didn't answer. But he felt this was only the beginning. Only the surface.
Syn returned to the barracks and lay down on his bunk. This time, sleep came quickly.
Morning began with the blow of a gong. Loud, insistent. Syn woke instantly, but not everyone was as quick. Instructor Varen burst into the barracks with a stick in hand and began pounding the bunks of those who hadn't risen.
«Up! Six a.m.! Anyone not lined up in the yard in five minutes will run laps until noon!»
Everyone jumped up, rushed to the washbasin. Jostling, cursing, chaos. Syn washed quickly and was one of the first out in the yard.
Varen was already standing there, arms crossed over his chest. A young resonator in light armor stood next to him. Thin face, sharp eyes. An Adept, judging by the aura of power Syn sensed.
When everyone was in line, Varen nodded to the Adept.
«This is Instructor Kyle. He will lead your physical training. Listen to him as you would to me. Anyone who disobeys will regret it.»
Kyle stepped forward. His voice was clear, sharp.
«Warm-up. Ten laps around the field. Then push-ups, squats, planks. Begin!»
The Apprentices started running. Syn ran steadily, not rushing, conserving his strength. Some dashed ahead, trying to show off. Erik Solaris led the pack, outrunning everyone. His face was red with strain, but he didn't slow his pace.
Syn watched him.
"He wants to be first. Wants to stand out."
Foolish. The first laps aren't important. Endurance is. Who lasts until the end.
By the seventh lap, Erik began to gasp for air. His pace dropped. Syn passed him without a glance. By the tenth lap, half the Apprentices were barely dragging their feet. Some fell; they were forced up with sticks.
Syn finished among the first ten. Stopped, bent over, breathing heavily. His whole body burned, but he remained upright.
Kyle walked along the line.
«Not bad. But this is only the beginning. Push-ups. A hundred. Begin!»
Syn dropped to the ground and began doing push-ups. His arms were already shaking by the thirtieth. By the fiftieth, he thought he couldn't go on. But he forced himself to continue.
"Lian went through this. That means I can too."
He finished, falling face-first into the sand. Other Apprentices groaned, gasping for air nearby. Lira lay, unable to move.
Kyle smirked.
«Five-minute break. Then squats.»
Syn closed his eyes and allowed himself to exhale.
"This will be a long day."
Breakfast was meager. Porridge made from grey grain, a piece of black bread, a mug of water. Syn ate in silence, ignoring the conversations around him. Erik Solaris complained to his friends about the cruelty of the training. Lira sat next to Syn, staring at her plate.
After breakfast, they were led to a lecture hall. A large room with rows of wooden benches. Diagrams depicting Aspect structures, maps of the Wastelands, and rank charts hung on the walls.
The teacher, an elderly woman with grey hair and a stern face, stood before them.
«I am Magister Ellen. I will teach you resonance theory. The first thing you must understand: your power is not magic. It is the interaction of your soul with distorted reality.»
She walked to the board and began drawing a diagram.
«An Aspect is the core of your power. It determines how you interact with the world. Fire, Ice, Shadow, Blood. Each Aspect is unique. But they all follow one rule: to use your power, you must understand its nature.»
Syn listened attentively, taking notes in the notebook they had been issued.
Ellen continued:
«Gates are a method of expanding your Aspect. Each Gate is an epiphany, a new law you discover within your soul. They cannot be learned. They can only be understood. And that requires time, pain, and perseverance.»
She turned to the class.
«Most of you will open your first Gate within a month. Some within two. A handful within a week. Those who fail to open one within six months will be expelled.»
Silence hung in the lecture hall.
Syn clenched his pen.
"A Gate. I need to open it. Quickly."
The lesson continued until noon. Ellen explained the basics, theory, examples. Syn absorbed every word.
When they were dismissed for lunch, he left the lecture hall with a clear thought.
"My power is to see traces of the past. That's only the beginning. I must understand it more deeply. Find my first Gate."
And he would find it.
Whatever it took.