Change was consistent, but consistency was subject to change. Everything progressed, yet had finality. Generations came and went, yet the same kind of people lived in the world. The sun was hidden for a time, only to bring its heat again. Winds passed here and there, and came back to do the same. All rivers ran into the seas, but the seas never had enough; from where they came, to there they returned.

But when will my life be stable? Gelland thought, sitting on the grassy lip of a rippling pond. She studied her bleeding foot, the result of people being people. Running barefoot while classmates threw things at her from their carriages was not a good combination. The woods would be a peaceful place for her to rest, if the rest of the college students weren't laughing snarkily with each other across the field, hanging around the carriages. The carriages sat next to a small building next to the road that would serve as their schoolhouse for the day.

Gelland's foot wasn't bleeding badly, only an abrasion from a patch of rocks that she fell into after she was hit in the head. Her black hair and light brown skin made their reflection in the pool. No blood came from her forehead, only a small welt. She stretched out her hand and made two signs, the second the sign for Water. The pool obeyed, a strand of the shimmering liquid twirled into her hand. It hovered there, a glob the size of her hand, awaiting a new command. She could do many things with it, with what she trained so hard to obtain more of. Aug gave her possibility. Change, in the palm of her hand.

She put the cool wetness of it onto her throbbing welt, then onto her foot. It pulled the dirt from the abrasion, and the blood from the outside. Once mixed with another substance, the water fell out of her hand, to go back from where it had come from. With her aug, her wounds would probably only last half the day before healing on their own.

Two young men, Deleon Bloom and Larren, made their way across the field over to her. Deleon's combed brown hair glistened faintly in the morning sun. He stopped halfway there, biting his lip. Then he about faced to his left, and walked towards the schoolhouse. Larren continued on to her, ignoring Deleon's absence. 

"I wonder," he said, "do you drink your own blood, too? Or keep people's around in jars?" His smirk needed a makeover.

She stood, brushing off her backside of grass. She'd used to dance with the boy at festivals. She looked past him, blankly. "What good would that do, Larren? What do you people think plasma is, huh?"

"Oh, look who's so smart. You haven't had your powers long. But we all know what you'll turn into. The Scales can see into the heart. They just make you more of what they know you to be. Filth."

"I suppose you would know about that kind of filth, yourself. I hear your betrothed talk about that disgusting tongue of yours. Here, I'll show you what I see when I look at you."

She signed Land. A ball of dirt and rocks floated above her hand. She turned towards him. He started. She took a step forward, and he fled. She sighed heavily, letting the rocks disappear back into her chips. She imagined grabbing him by the collar and forcing them in his mouth. Breaking his teeth. Her muscles tensed just thinking about it. She could probably take on anyone in the city. But she was so tired, and what would that gain her?

[i]Kolen wouldn't want me to retaliate. Even with all that I could do. I could teach them to respect me. But they will only fear me.[/i]

The Tecton War raged on the other shore of the country. Or simmered, as it were. Not much happened with the war, thirty years old. It seemed on the verge of either collapse, to give up on it completely due to boredom. Or to blow up- swallowing both her nation, Al Bidaya, and Hazten whole. 

Her father, Kolen, had trained her. Trained her well. Even against his own wishes. But she was persistent- to fight for her country. So persistent in asking him about biotite chips, Spokes, aug, rulers, and boys. She wished she had been more persistent in spending time with him. Asking about her mother. Before she died. And he was killed.

She shook her head, and went behind a tree. She changed her clothes with a flick of a few flourishes. The old and wet disappeared, and the new reappeared. They were warm, she having stored them in a chip after she warmed them in the sun. She preferred black. These were black trousers and shirt. Her maroon short jacket was open and came up to her ribs, and it also matched her boots. She put her gray, square bag of the black chips over the back of her belt.

She walked back out towards the schoolhouse after brushing her hair. The different races were five. Four, really- and those who couldn't dense. The denser races changed the states of matter. To each, one state.

The plasma densers were a fearful lot, of which she'd become a recent member. More than half of the world's population could dense, and all could tether. Through those two ways to change things, called the Dual Wheel, so much was possible. Many of these students were densers, and had distinctive facial features to denote each. And their ability to affect change would be, by default, more than hers. There were no other Hals in the city after their relocation- no one to share the burden.

Walking into the schoolhouse, she stepped to the left side. The short ceiling connected to the walls, to the floor- all of one piece of wood. She made a quick note of who was new and who was missing from the previous year. There were about thirty in the room, including herself and the professor.

Deleon Bloom isn't here anymore. That's a relief. But curse the rest of them, I still can't relax. Sitting down in a seat in the back corner, she pretended to lose focus. She opened up a catalog and rested her boots on the desk. Gelland still kept an eye on the rest of the class. 

But Cross entered the room. His deep red hair hung over his brows, and he tried to hide behind them. Gelland looked at him, and he gave her a wide smile towards his right. The left corner of his mouth stayed put, having its minor droop. The left side of his face sagged slightly, having had problems with his body since they both were young.

She attempted returning it, but a Hal's smile was unwelcome anywhere they went, and she drew her lips to a line. With her having hidden hers these two years, it was difficult to manage lifting the corners of her mouth. Another person shot Cross a glance at his smile, and it withdrew into itself. She nodded to the chair next to her, and he sat. 

The professor began, in a stately voice, to introduce himself. "For those who are new, I am Doctor K'Leston, and welcome to Cultural Affairs. We will be studying how military presence, art, and science impact our social environments. During this time, we will also discuss your reintroduction to college functions next month. We will have a break for you all to acclimate to each other. I also wouldn't mind seeing what you may have worked on over the Summer, or skills you want to show the others if you are new." 

Gelland had Dr. K'Leston before. He had slightly darker skin than Bidayans, with lines of tight braids of black and silver hair and a nice gray suit that had many buttons on both sides. The suit jacket had black leather attributed to the sharp shoulders, which gave it hexagonal shapes common to Civiti fashion. She considered him a decent man, having not noted, like the others, the changes Gelland took on after the Vein two years ago.

Kolen, had tried to instill a respect for all peoples, but part of her despised the Hals before the Vein. Having become one herself, she had been initially surprised at the lack of bloodthirst others had claimed came with the power of plasma Densing. It couldn't have been true. Yet, others seemed out for her blood. She considered that maybe Dr. K'Leston was different, being from such a different culture like Civitas, a country across the southern ocean from Al Bidaya. I may get the chance to see how others interact with Hals through this. she thought. 

"Miss Pakel," K'Leston called towards the girl in front of Gelland, "what are the people like from your end of the country, in Port Ahiahi?" Four sat in the row in front of her, the two boys turning their heads to look at the two girls, who both fidgeted. "Professor, there are two of them now." said another student. K'Lleston made a grunt. "Yes, that's right. Happy to have you both now, and your cousin, as well." He gave a slight nod the two and to the boy at the end of their row, who had darker skin than the other two. "Any of you can answer."

There was a long pause where the three stared at him. Gelland narrowed her eyes at this. At least say that you don't know. Cross twitched slightly, his tan face reddening. "If I refused to answer, I wonder how many of you would complain about how rude I was." Cross slurred just clearly enough to be understood. His diction leveled out as he said, "But if these rich kids ignore a professor, who would blame them?" 

"The difference is," Larren began, "if you didn't talk anymore, who would complain?" Cross pounded his fist on his desk. "You all would! I'm irreplaceable, and people need me and want me!" He settled back into his chair, then placed his head into folded arms on his desk, face contorted with pain. "You just don't know it..." he grumbled, just loudly enough for her to hear.

Gelland glared at the group before her over the rim of her book. They laughed even more. Her hatred mingled with his, boiling over at them. They often held their peace, but things weren't looking any better for either. These people think we can't hold out for much longer, so they'll drive us to be the monsters they think we are. But I will never stoop to their level. she told herself. 

The class, having settled down, continued a short lesson on the fashion of Al Bidaya. Areas nearer to other countries mixed cultures, creating new styles. Gelland loved the aesthetic of her own country, however, with the clothes being looser and less militaristic than their southern neighbors. Somewhat similar in dimensions to their newly formed northern border, however, but less evocative of nature. After this, the professor dismissed to the field for a break. "Practice Tethering outside or whatever it is that suits you." K'Leston said.

Cross gave Gelland a look, signing "Why". She turned him aside, taking him by the arm. "We have to be better than them. We are better. Don't forget it and don't let them steer you away from that."

As she was speaking, his head tilted one direction, eyes drooping, and he seemed very tired. "I just don't think I can manage much longer, Gel. People like us are rare. Your dad was the best man I've ever known. He even outstripped my own father in that regard. And the stress of just a couple of days after getting that Vein got to him. It's a miracle that we've lasted this long." 

She had no words to counter that. "Some miracle this has turned out to be..." she managed. 

He turned from her, going towards the back of the schoolhouse. Gelland sighed, crossing the field to find her own place to be alone. Some played a modified game of Siege, four teams of two blocking flying discs with large sticks rather than mesh shields. Others Called water out of the pond and did tricks with it.

Gelland found a quiet space to read, slumped behind trees. She opened her catalog again. Before long, she heard footsteps, turning to peer over her shoulder. It only took a few minutes for the girls from class to seek her out. Here we go... she thought. The girls stood uneasily over her for a moment, expressions unreadable. "Can I help you?" she asked, fighting her temptations of impatience that she'd given into earlier in the day.

The girls paused, then one said, "What are you reading?"

Gelland believed her name was Yova. "I'm reading a book of unique weapons in history." 

"You're very smart, then? What will you do with this knowledge?" Yova said almost concerned. Gelland narrowed her eyes at her. Who speaks like that? she thought. "Sorry," the other said, shooting Yova a look, "we want to ask you about something. We're having a hard time remembering our night." 

"Are you still hungover? It wouldn't surprise me." Gelland said, not looking up. 

"So we were drinking, then?" said Yova. 

"Well, I can smell it on you from here. But even without that, I think all of the high society of Aubury knows who you spend your time with." 

"Look" the younger one said, "I want to be honest, we don't really even know who we are. We could ask the 'high society' you spoke of, but could you please help us?" 

"I don't-" 

"I'm sorry, we didn't even ask your name." She hesitated, then said slowly, "It's Gelland." 

"Gelland, who are we to you? The four of us. What are our names?" 

Are they serious? They can't be. Just like them to do... something like this? They sound so pleasant for once. She had only had wine a few times, but she was certain it couldn't produce this effect. "Fine, I'll go along with this for now." She indicated the first who spoke, and then the younger sister, "You're Yova and Zeraphel Pakel. The two with you are your cousin, Zolda Tacklis," and indicating Yova, "and your fiance, Teragram Dewran." 

Both of their mouths worked up and down, yet nothing came out. "I'm with that boy?" Yova said. 

They continued with information like what kind of densers they were, and when they came to the city. They were fascinated by the conversation, and oddly, so was she. They broke away from each other when Dr. K'Leston whistled for them all to come back inside. They spent the next forty five minutes going over the logistics of orientation, and course structure for each major. She was very close to mastering an advanced rune technique, already knowing the sign, but needed to practice it delicately. There were few places to practice either Densing or Tethering, except for the wilderness, where it was legal to do the former and safe to practice the latter.

When dismissed, she had an urge that surprised her. All the students were hurrying to their carriages back to Aubury. She rushed to fill the gap of the closing door of the four's carriage. She awkwardly placed herself between Zolda, and Yova's newly discovered fiance, Teragram. She immediately felt embarrassed. Not knowing what exactly she had intended by rushing up to a group akin to strangers, she blushed, hands clutched in her lap. 

She was somewhat small, and would look scrawny to others. There was no getting bigger for her, it seemed, but she had toned much from continuing her father's workouts. Though that was fine in this moment, as the two young men next to her didn't seem overly uncomfortable with the thin girl taking up minimal cushion on the bumpy gravel road. Teragram looked shocked at her running up on them. He sat back, "Is your hair burning? What's with all the black smoke on-".

He was cut off by Zolda, who shot him a look over her head. Gelland checked her hair with a jolt. It was fine. A lame attempt at pranking her.

"Remember her senses are different!" she caught Yova whispering aggresively to Teragram.

Zolda said, "So we talked with Cross while you three were meeting. He seemed to want to use big words to talk about our condition. I didn't really follow where he was leading, but I don't think he trusts us... I guess he tried. He's quite the guy, however." 

She felt a stab of guilt. Cross might have been expecting to ride with her, and she'd left him alone.

"Gelland, you didn't really answer my question from earlier. Who are we to you? What are we like?" said Zeraphel. 

Gelland stiffened. "We aren't friends. And I don't really think that will change. Teragram, I've known you for the longest time, even before I became a plasma denser. When these strangers were brought in from across Al Bidaya, you quickly turned them against me." 

The mood grew tense and they all fidgeted. "And Cross?" Teragram said. 

Gelland nodded. 

"Why did we do that? I'm so sorry Gelland. We really don't know anything. Would you like to come to our wedding? Would this make you happy?" Yova smiled at her. Gelland became uncomfortable. This is happening too fast. She was getting a strange feeling, as if interacting with these people was wrong. She was a Hal, and they were not. That wasn't going to change, and once they got their memories back it might even be worse than before, with the thought of what might've been always replaying for her. "That's so nice of you," she said, trying to give a semblance of a smile while still drawing her lips over her teeth tightly. "So do you have someone you're seeing, as well? Someone you love, Gelland?" Zeraphel asked. "Is it Cross?" said Teragram. "Is that what this is about? So you can find something else to make fun of us for?" Teragram shook his head beside her. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. I was just curious. He seems to watch you, is all." "We look out for each other. We have to, because no one else is. That's all." "Surely someone else looks out for the people of this world?" After a moment of Gelland's silence, Yova said, "What do you believe about Zil?"

Gelland let the discussion drop. That wasn't something she'd answer when her allowance in society was already tenuous. Though Ziligism let people believe what they will, more or less, it was assumed that everyone served Zil in one fashion or another. Even her own name, pronounced Zhelland, was thought to be one form of homage to Zil. It wasn't, and Kolen wanted nothing to do with their beliefs. Yet, what he actually believed, she couldn't tell- she only had hints from pieces of wisdom he'd shared. They took her silence with questioning looks, but she turned from them.

Transitioning from trees back into the walled city, they entered Aubury from the west gate. The occupants turned their attention to the way the sun was reflecting off the bay, giving the terraced buildings and trees of Aubury a warm cast. She tried to imagine what a wonder it must be to see this city for the first time. Gelland was always surprised at how impressed she could be at nature. It had a chaotic feel to it, but also gave her the impression that it was how it needed to be. Pulling up to a fountain square, the carriages let off their load, and pulled away. Gelland gave some excuses for leaving the group, not having enjoyed the company. They looked on, one of them calling out to her, "I hope we see you again soon, Gelland." But she did not turn around.