It had only been a few days since their departure from the military camp, but Cane already missed it—the friendly banter, the companionable meals, the charred practice dummies lined up like old friends. Smiling faintly against his pillow, the sound of the morning announcement filled his room like sunlight through an open window.
"This is Sophie Sweetwater, back from a two-week stay in the capital. Let's get right to War News."
Cane couldn't help but grin.
"The western front is scheduled to open in the coming weeks, coinciding with the southern front's advance on the Zuni continent."
"On the naval front, the Zuni have abandoned their blockade strategy entirely. They're staying close to their port cities, avoiding any chance of confronting the Defiant—which, at last count, has sunk over thirty enemy ships."
"The Starsong will make its maiden voyage during the second cycle break. Anyone interested in naval conquests should contact mission control for assignments."
"And now for Academy Rankings—big changes this week. The deadlock among the top three teams has been broken. Cane Ironheart's first-year squad now holds third place. Or I should say… Sir Cane Ironheart, knighted recently by King Hellion himself."
Cane buried his face in the pillow with a low groan and a smile.
Sophie's voice continued, shifting into local updates and a few birthday shoutouts before she signed off:
"This is Sophie Sweetwater, reminding you—if you see someone today without a smile on their face… give them yours. Until this afternoon, good day!"
Cane chuckled. "She's really talking me up."
The Academy was still buzzing over something mysterious happening at the Western front. The Archmage had quietly awarded their team ten thousand contribution points—an unprecedented gift. The rumors had exploded overnight, and not a single one had come close to the truth.
The air drifting through his open window was crisp and dry. Fall was creeping in, and the warm days were numbered.
Cane lay still for a while, thoughts drifting, then reached over to the small shelf beside his bed. The cold iron artifact met his hand like an old friend, sending comfort rippling through him. Its familiar pull washed over him as he closed his eyes and submerged.
Inside, the twin stars above him halted their dance. They pulled apart just slightly, creating space. The red clouded mass at their center began to glow with stronger light.
Cane inhaled slowly, steadying himself. He focused, recalling the technique he'd seen in the dream—the deliberate dimming of both aspects to engage the core.
The moment his stars dimmed, the red mass between them brightened sharply.
New nodes shimmered into view.
Cane held his breath as his eyes found the one he'd been seeking.
The black node.
The psi node.
He stared at it in silence, awe and caution mixing in his chest. Psi talents were exceedingly rare, and the abilities varied wildly between mages. Siya, for example, could lift or hurl large objects with pure will—classified as a Type One psi-mage.
But others? The deeper classifications were shrouded in secrecy. Some could influence minds. Others could send thoughts over vast distances, bypassing runes entirely. Power like that came with rules. Oversight. Fear.
Cane wasn't sure yet what the black node meant for him.
But he knew one thing for certain: the path ahead was about to change.
His attention turned to the other newly revealed nodes—the hybrid ice and the pure air.
"I already have a strong attunement to water," Cane muttered. "And through that, glacial ice... Air would be a natural extension. So would ice."
Exiting the Cold Iron, he pulled a bar of Salt Alloy from his storage ring. Within minutes, six new rings gleamed on the workbench—one for each elemental node he now understood: fire, wood, water, air, ice, and psi.
He set them aside, then unsealed his weapons—Starbolt, Starstrike, and Blue, the mythic hammer. All of them bore cold enchantments already, so he activated the ice node within each. The result was immediate.
The temperature plummeted. Frost webbed across the walls and floor. Cane's breath steamed in the air as thin ice layered every surface, quickly growing thicker.
Grimacing, he slipped on the ice ring—and his discomfort vanished. The numbing chill faded from his body, though the frost clung stubbornly to the room.
"FERGIS!" Cane grabbed a broom handle and banged it against the wall, knocking ice off in chunks.
The door thudded as someone tried to push it open.
"Everything's frozen! Warm the door up first," Cane called.
A soft mutter, a hum of energy—and soon a trickle of water puddled beneath the door. A few more seconds, and it creaked open.
Fergis blinked as he stepped inside. "What the hell happened in here?"
"Just… experimenting with ice enhancements." Cane gestured at the frosted-over weapons and walls. "Mind helping me warm things up?"
Fergis grinned, his hands glowing with heat as he stepped deeper inside.
Together, they worked in tandem—Fergis slowly radiating warmth while Cane chipped away melting ice and tossed it out the open window. What had started as a near-flood ended up looking like a thorough spring cleaning.
At one point, Fergis cocked his head. "You know how your eyes have that star thing going on? One white, one blue?"
"Yeah." Cane didn't look up. "Why?"
"The white one's paler now. Almost… icy blue."
"Huh." Cane frowned. "Probably just a side effect of experimenting with too many ice nodes."
But even as he said it, a cold weight settled in his chest.
This isn't temporary… is it?
Once the room was cleared, Cane clapped Fergis on the shoulder. "Thanks for the assist."
Fergis smirked. "Is it really an assist when I do everything?"
Cane laughed. "Welcome to my world."
He rummaged through his wardrobe and laid out a blue button-up and white canvas trousers on the bed.
Then he froze.
"No…"
His eyes locked on the faint silver shimmer beneath the skin of his forearm—delicate, branching patterns lacing through his veins.
Starmetal.
The same telltale tint, subtle but spreading.
Is this going to keep happening?
He thought back to the dream. The parents sealing their child in Cold Iron. The way their skin had glinted—metallic, marked. The boy had looked normal, but they… hadn't.
Maybe I'm overextending. Maybe this is just temporary.
None of the senior instructors from my dreams had these marks... right?
"…Shit." Cane dressed quickly. "One more class, and then I'm gone."