No Class Found

Doc watched Mira kneel beside the chalk circle, adding smaller glyphs around the perimeter. Cassira stood nearby, observing without comment. Her expression remained neutral, but her eyes tracked every mark Mira made.

Analyzing pattern structure. Radial symmetry indicates omni-directional output. Central node configuration suggests power draw focus. Secondary glyphs appear to function as stabilization anchors.

Doc studied the outer marks. ' What do these do?'

Mira glanced up. "They keep the energy from dispersing too fast."

Containment field equivalent. Crude but functional.

Cassira crouched and pointed at one of the smaller symbols. "This one's wrong."

Mira leaned closer, frowning. "No, that's—" She stopped. "Oh. Yeah, you're right. Angle's off."

She adjusted the mark with her chalk, correcting the curve by a few degrees.

Interesting. The structure requires geometric precision to function. Deviation degrades energy flow efficiency.

Calen moved forward, battery in hand. "Where do you want this?"

Mira tapped the center of the circle. "Right here."

Calen set the bronze casing carefully in place. The faint glow within the battery's seams pulsed once, then steadied.

Energy source positioned. Ambient detection confirms active charge. No discharge initiated yet.

Doc studied the setup—the chalk lines, the battery, the open air around it all. Nothing had changed visibly, but he could feel the weight of potential gathering in the space.

Mira stood and brushed chalk dust from her hands. "Almost ready."

Doc frowned. "Is chalk really enough?"

She blinked. "For what?"

"For the rune." He gestured at the circle. "You're channeling energy through it. That seems... fragile."

"It's temporary," Mira said. "I just want to show you how it works."

Cassira spoke without looking up from the pattern. "Most runes are carved. Stone, wood, metal. Lasts longer."

"But for a simple test," Mira added, "chalk works fine. The mana doesn't care what medium carries the pattern as long as the alignment's correct."

Material composition irrelevant to function. Only geometric accuracy matters for energy transformation.

Doc considered that. Back on Nexus Prime, precision engineering required specific alloys, controlled environments, tolerance margins measured in microns. Here, someone could draw a functional energy converter in dirt with a piece of chalk.

Different framework.

"So the chalk just... holds the shape," Doc said.

"Pretty much." Mira glanced at the battery. "The power comes from the that thing. The rune tells it what to do."

Cassira straightened. "If the pattern's wrong, it'll do something unintended."

"Which is why we're outside," Mira said. She looked at Doc. "You ready?"

Across the yard, Mar shifted his stance. The half-giant had been silent through the entire setup, but his eyes never left the chalk circle.

Doc glanced at Fish. She remained calm, tail curled around her paws.

No detected instability. Ambient energy density within acceptable range. Battery output stable.

He nodded. "Ready."

Mira nodded and stepped forward with the chalk, kneeling beside the circle's edge. "This is the activation rune. Once I draw it, the whole thing goes live."

Doc watched her trace the first curve.

Energy signature shifting. Battery output beginning initial draw.

The chalk moved steadily, forming the second line.

Draw rate increasing. 0.3 lumens per second.

Third stroke.

0.7 lumens. Acceleration detected.

Fourth.

1.4 lumens. Warning: exponential curve forming.

"Mira—"

The final mark connected.

Critical threshold exceeded. Battery discharge at 97% capacity drain. Immedi—

H.O.T. Protocol engaged

The world sharpened.

Doc moved.

His suit helmet deployed mid-stride, sealing with a pressurized hiss. Three steps carried him across the yard. His prosthetic arm extended, catching Mira around the waist as he pivoted, placing his armored back between her and the circle.

The battery detonated.

Light erupted—cascading outward in a thermal bloom that turned the chalk pattern to ash. The concussive wave followed half a second later, rattling the depot's shutters and scattering debris across the yard.

Doc's boots slid backward against cobblestone. His suit absorbed the pressure differential, distributing impact across reinforced plating. The light washed over his helmet's polarized visor, reducing the glare to manageable levels.

Near him, Mira made a startled noise.

Then silence.

Thermal event concluded. Ambient temperature normalizing. No secondary discharge detected. Battery integrity: zero percent. Hull compromised. Core fragmented.

Doc lowered his arm slowly. Mira stumbled back, blinking rapidly, one hand pressed against her eyes.

Cassira had raised an ice barrier—thin, jagged, already melting at the edges. She dismissed it with a flick of her wrist and moved toward Mira.

Calen sat on the ground where he'd thrown himself flat.

Mar was next to Cassira his hand on his weapon, eyes fixed on the smoking crater where the chalk circle had been.

Fish trotted forward and sniffed the charred stone, ears flicking back in disapproval.

Doc's helmet retracted. "Everyone intact?"

Calen raised one hand weakly. "Still here."

Cassira reached Mira and checked her eyes. "You're fine. Just afterimages."

Mira blinked again, squinting. "What... what happened?"

Doc looked at the crater. The bronze battery casing had shattered into five pieces, scattered across blackened cobblestone. The chalk rune was gone—vaporized.

Post-analysis incomplete. Most probable cause: activation sequence triggered unregulated draw. Battery lacked output governor. System discharged entire energy reserve in 0.4 seconds. Resultant thermal expansion exceeded containment parameters.

"The battery," Doc said. "It drained completely. All at once."

Mira stared at the wreckage. "That was supposed to be a light spell."

"It was." Cassira's tone remained flat. "Just... very bright and strong one."

Doc turned to Calen, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "Well. Now I understand why Carl gets into so much trouble."

Calen blinked. Then laughed. "Yeah. Sounds about right."

Mira managed a weak smile. "At least nobody got hurt."

Doc glanced at Fish, who had returned to sitting beside him, tail swishing once in what might have been agreement.

Conclusion: magical energy systems require active regulation mechanisms. Uncontrolled discharge remains a viable threat. Recommend safety protocols for future experimentation.

Doc shook his head and turned to Mira. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you in danger like that."

Mira smiled, brushing chalk dust from her robes. "It's fine. Honestly, that was a good learning experience."

Doc raised an eyebrow. "We almost exploded."

"Almost." She gestured at the scorched crater. "But we didn't. And that's the first time a simple light spell has done something like that. I learned something new."

Cassira looked at Mira. "You're sure you can see clearly?"

Mira waved her off. "I'm fine."

Cassira didn't look convinced but let it go.

Optimism in the face of failure. Admirable, if slightly concerning.

Doc sighed and shook his head. "I think I need a different on runic magic book. I've already read the one I have like multiple times."

"There's a better introduction to rune magic at the Academy," Mira said. "We're reading it right now, actually. Starts with the basics—energy thresholds, containment patterns, safe activation sequences."

Doc's expression brightened. "Could I borrow it?"

Mira grimaced. "Academy books aren't allowed off grounds, school policy."

Doc's shoulders dropped slightly.

"But," Mira added quickly, "you can get a copy at the Mage's Guild. You just have to pay for it."

Doc nodded. "That shouldn't be an issue."

Calen walked closer. "I'm heading there now. You could come with me if you want."

Doc glanced at him. "Works for me."

Mira adjusted her robes. "I should get back anyway. I have an essay due tomorrow."

Cassira moved beside her without a word, though her gaze lingered on the crater for a moment longer. Mar stepped closer to Cassira's side, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the yard.

Doc looked at Mira. "Thank you for the help."

She grinned. "Anytime."

Mira and Cassira turned toward the gate, Mar following a step behind. Fish watched them leave, ears flicking once, then looked up at Doc expectantly.

Doc glanced at Calen. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

The two started toward the gate as well, Fish trotting alongside. Behind them, the charred cobblestones still radiated faint heat, the shattered battery casing glinting dully in the afternoon sun.

The failed experiment replayed in his mind—the sudden draw, the thermal bloom, the way the battery had discharged everything in less than half a second.

Calen walked beside him in silence for a few steps. "I still don't know how Carl survives his experiments."

Doc considered that. "Luck, probably."

Calen huffed. "Has to be."

They turned onto the main road, heading northeast toward Splitstone Row.

By the time they reached Splitstone Row, Calen had gone quiet.

Doc didn't push it.

---

---

Calen and Doc walked through Splitstone Row toward the Mage's Guild, Fish padding silently between them. The afternoon crowds had thinned, leaving the plaza less congested than it had been during Calen's first visit.

Doc's cloak shifted with each step, the fabric catching light.

They reached the guild entrance, and Calen pushed through the double doors first, stepping into the circular chamber he'd seen several days ago.

The ambient energy hadn't changed. The massive floor diagram still pulsed with controlled magic, feeding upward through channels carved into the walls. The floating orbs drifted lazily near the ceiling, casting cool light across enchanted tapestries.

Doc paused briefly, scanning the room.

Probably Lux, Calen thought. Doc did that sometimes—stopped mid-step while Lux processed something unseen.

Calen moved toward the reception desk, where the same woman from before sat reviewing a ledger. She glanced up as he approached, recognition flickering across her features.

"Back again," she said, not unkindly.

"Yeah," Calen said. "I'm here for the communication session. Novice Peak."

She set her quill aside and checked a separate ledger, flipping through pages before pausing on one. Her expression shifted slightly—something between mild surprise and approval.

"Good timing," she said. "Your recipients arrived at Novice Peak's guild hall an hour ago. They've been waiting for you." She tapped the entry. "We were about to dispatch a runner to your lodging."

Calen blinked, surprise cutting through the tension he'd been carrying. "They're already there?"

"Yes." The receptionist gestured toward the eastern staircase. "Third floor, second door on the left. The operators name is Finn. He's already established the connection. You can go up whenever you're ready."

Calen's chest tightened, relief mixing with something sharper. They're actually there. Waiting for me.

"Thank you," he managed.

She nodded, already returning to her ledger.

Calen turned back toward Doc, who stood near the entrance with Fish. "They're ready. Right now."

Doc tilted his head slightly. "That's good news."

Calen nodded, though his pulse had picked up. He'd been preparing for this moment for days—rehearsing what he'd say, how he'd explain everything that had happened since he'd left Riverton.

But now that it was actually happening, all those rehearsed words felt inadequate.

Doc stepped forward, resting a hand briefly on Calen's shoulder. "You'll be fine."

Calen exhaled slowly. "Yeah."

Fish bumped against his leg once—solid, grounding.

"Come on," Doc said quietly. "Let's go."

Calen followed him toward the stairs. The ambient energy intensified on the second floor, then again on the third, where the communication chambers resided.

They reached the second door on the left, and Calen knocked twice.

"Enter," came Finn's voice from within.

Calen pushed the door open and stepped inside.

---

---

Doc followed Calen into the communication chamber, Fish staying just outside the threshold. The room was smaller than he'd expected—maybe four meters across, with stone walls carved with glowing runes that pulsed in synchronized patterns.

The ambient energy density here registered higher than anywhere else in the building. Lux had been cataloging magical signatures since they'd entered Splitstone Row, but this space exceeded baseline readings by a factor of three.

Lux, analysis.

The chamber functions as a resonance amplifier, Lux replied. Energy is drawn from external sources—likely leyline taps beneath the foundation—and channeled through the wall carvings into the central crystal array. The system creates a stable carrier wave capable of transmitting encoded information across significant distances.

At the room's center stood a waist-high pedestal, its surface inscribed with circular patterns that spiraled inward. A crystalline prism rested at the focal point—roughly the size of Doc's fist, faceted and translucent, with a faint violet-blue glow emanating from deep within its structure.

Finn, the operator, stood beside the pedestal. He was perhaps thirty, with dark hair pulled back and robes marked by the guild's insignia. He gestured toward Calen with a practiced motion.

"Welcome," Finn said. "Your connection is stable. Novice Peak is holding the link."

Calen nodded but didn't speak.

Finn gestured toward the crystal. "Place your hand on the resonance plate here. The crystal will project both voice and image once contact is established. Your recipients will appear above the array. Speak clearly—there's always slight delay, about two seconds each direction."

Doc watched as Calen stepped forward, his hand hesitating briefly before touching the inscribed surface.

The moment contact registered, the crystal flared brighter. The violet-blue glow intensified, spreading through the pedestal's runes in branching patterns that reminded Doc of neural pathways firing in sequence.

Fascinating, Lux murmured. The system isn't transmitting matter or energy—it's encoding vibrational patterns. Sound is converted to resonance signatures, transmitted through a network substrate, then reconverted at the receiving node.

Above the crystal, light coalesced—not solid, but translucent. Shapes formed slowly, gaining definition. Two figures began to take form in the air, their outlines sharpening as the connection stabilized.

Calen's breathing slowed. His shoulders tensed.

Doc stepped back, giving Calen space for whatever came next.

---

---

The projection solidified.

Two figures stood in translucent light above the crystal array.

Calen's breath caught.

Talia looked older. Her dark hair was longer now, pulled back in a practical braid. She wore a simple dress with an apron still tied at the waist—she must have come straight from work. Ren stood beside her, thinner than Calen remembered, but taller. His coat fit better than it used to.

Neither of them moved.

The chamber was silent except for the low hum of the crystal.

Nobody knew who should speak first.

Talia broke.

"Calen."

Just his name. Nothing else. Her voice cracked halfway through.

Talia's face crumpled, tears spilling down her cheeks as her hands came up to cover her mouth. Ren stood frozen beside her, his jaw tight, his eyes bright.

Calen felt his own vision blur. He blinked hard, trying to hold it together, but his throat closed and his chest ached and he couldn't stop the tears that slipped free despite every effort.

"I'm okay," he managed. His voice didn't sound like his own. "I'm okay."

Ren exhaled slowly. His expression didn't change much, but his shoulders dropped. When he finally spoke, it was quiet and deliberate.

"You look like you ate something."

Calen laughed—choked, messy. He wiped at his face with the back of his hand.

"Yeah," he said. "I did."

Talia steadied herself, brushing tears away with trembling fingers. She smiled—shaky, but there.

Calen pulled in a breath and forced himself to focus. "Why are you in Novice Peak?"

Talia straightened. "I finished my apprenticeship. Earned my Chandler Artisan class. I decided... I decided to find you."

Ren shrugged, his tone certain. "I wasn't staying behind alone."

The words landed harder than they should have. Calen looked at them—really looked—and understood what they'd done. They'd left the safety he'd fought to give them. Left the stable situation he'd sacrificed everything to secure. They'd walked away from it because they chose him.

He'd joined the bandits so they wouldn't have to. Been in a terrible situation so they'd have a chance at something better. And they'd given it up to find him.

His throat burned.

"How did you know where to look?"

Talia exchanged a glance with Ren. "We heard you were headed this way. Someone saw you near the mountain routes. Took us a while, but we followed."

Calen went quiet.

They didn't know what it had cost. They didn't know about Rellan, or the Vale. They didn't know how close he'd come to not making it out at all.

They just knew he'd left to protect them.

And they'd come anyway.

Talia's voice softened. "We need to see you. Really see you. Not like this."

Calen nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"Where are you?" Ren asked.

"Glasshold."

Talia's eyes widened. Surprise flickered across her face.

"Glasshold? How did you end up there?"

Calen laughed—short, almost disbelieving. Even he couldn't quite explain how he'd gone from starving bandit to standing in the old northern capital.

"It's a long story."

Ren's expression stayed flat, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "Try the short version."

Calen shook his head. "Not over a crystal. But I'll figure out a way to get you both up here. There's—" He glanced back at Doc, who stood near the wall with Fish. "There's people who can help. I can put something in through the Mage's Guild. Get you an escort or something."

Talia's face softened. Relief replaced the surprise.

"You'd do that?"

"Of course I would."

Talia wiped at her eyes again, her smile steadier this time. "Then we'll wait. Just... don't take too long."

"I won't."

The crystal's light began to flicker. Finn stepped forward, his tone apologetic.

"Time's almost up."

Calen's chest tightened again.

"I'll see you soon," he said.

Talia nodded. Ren raised one hand briefly.

The projection dissolved.