Chapter 30: A Test

I found Lira near the training grounds, speaking quietly with two of the rapid-response fighters. The moment she saw my face, her ears angled forward and the conversation died almost instantly. She stood from where she sat and immediately approached me slowly.

"What happened?" she asked.

I waited until the others had moved out of earshot before finally answering. "It’s done. The process worked, Harlan is awake, and he’s officially a mage now."

Lira stared at me, unsure if she had heard right, or if I was simply playing with her. "You’re certain?"

"I saw him. He’s exhausted, but he’s stable. And he’s stronger than before. Significantly stronger."

I could feel the immediate change in her emotions. She was angry, then sad and disappointed at the same time. "So that’s it. He’s gone."

"He’s still Harlan," I replied sharply, hoping to change whatever narrative she had built in her head. Harlan might have become something new, but there was no indication that he had changed. Sure, power changed people, but Harlan was yet to do anything to make us say for certain that he was no longer our friend.

"No." She shook her head. "The Harlan who fought beside us wouldn’t have let himself be carved open for power. This one did. And now he’s whatever Elandor made him." She looked away toward the laboratory hut, jaw tight. "I warned him. We both did."

I didn’t argue. Part of me agreed with her. Another part was already recalculating. Harlan had been a reliable fighter and a known quantity. Now he was a Level 9 mage with a forced core and a direct line to Elandor. That changed the balance of influence inside the outpost. My rapid-response team still gave me authority among the rank-and-file, but raw magical power carried its own weight, especially in a rebellion desperate for any advantage against Grimgor.

We would simply just have to adjust.

****

In the laboratory, Harlan sat on the edge of the table while Elandor ran a series of stabilising diagnostics. The residual glow in Harlan’s eyes had faded to a faint sheen, but the core pulsed steadily when Elandor probed it.

"Try something small," Elandor instructed. "A simple gathering of force. Do not push."

Harlan raised one hand. For a moment nothing happened. Then the air above his palm thickened and shimmered. A compact sphere of raw kinetic energy formed, stable and responsive. He held it for several seconds before letting it dissipate with a controlled breath.

A tired but unmistakable smile crossed his face. "It’s there. It’s really there."

"It is," Elandor agreed. "Stronger than Cael’s by a considerable margin. You will rest for the remainder of the night and most of tomorrow. After that we begin controlled exercises. I will inform Veyra of the success at first light. This changes our position significantly."

Harlan nodded, still staring at his own hand as if it belonged to someone else. The emptiness that had defined him for so long was gone. In its place was power, and the quiet, fierce satisfaction of finally possessing it.

By mid-morning the following day, word had spread through the outpost.

Veyra called a closed meeting of senior leaders. Elandor presented his report with restrained triumph: the process had produced a stable, high-capacity mage. Harlan’s core showed none of the catastrophic instability that had crippled Cael. With proper conditioning he could be combat-ready far sooner than previously projected.

The reactions around the table were mixed. Several squad leaders looked openly hopeful. Magical support on that scale could shift the odds in the coming defence. Others remained silent, glancing toward me or toward Elandor with clear unease. Creating power was one thing. Controlling it, and the man who wielded it, was another.

Veyra listened without interruption, then gave a short nod. "We will proceed carefully. Harlan remains under your supervision for now, Elandor. I want regular assessments. Antoine, your rapid-response role continues unchanged. We still need interception capability while the larger picture develops."

The meeting ended with a noticeable shift in the room’s gravity. Elandor left with greater authority than he had entered. My own position had not been diminished outright, but it now existed alongside a new and very real centre of power.

***

I found Harlan later that afternoon on one of the quieter platforms, still moving carefully, clearly under orders to avoid strain. Lira was with me. She stopped several paces short and said nothing.

Harlan turned when he sensed us. The faint residual glow in his eyes caught the light. He looked tired, but there was a new confidence in the way he held himself.

"Antoine. Lira."

"You went through with it," Lira said flatly.

"I did." Harlan met her gaze without flinching. "And it worked. I’m not empty anymore."

"You’re something Elandor made," she replied. "There’s a difference."

Harlan’s expression tightened. "I’m still the same man. I just finally have the means to matter in the way I always should have."

I kept my voice even. "Power changes people. Sometimes quietly. Sometimes not. You’ve stepped onto a path the rest of us can’t follow. That has consequences."

"I know what I risked," Harlan said. "I also know what we face. Grimgor isn’t going to wait for us to feel comfortable with how we get stronger. Neither should we."

Lira turned and walked away without another word. I stayed a moment longer.

"Be careful with it," I said. "And be careful with who you trust to guide it."

Harlan gave a short nod. "I intend to be."

With that I walked away. Harlan was powerful now, and it had become clear that I needed to get stronger as well. Leveling up had become a lot more difficult with the large number of experience points needed, but I wasn’t about to let up. One way or another, I was going to get stronger.

Late that same day, scouts returned with urgent reports. Grimgor’s forces at the northern staging ground had begun more aggressive movements. Larger patrols. Forward elements pushing deeper into the marsh approaches. The timeline had shortened.

Veyra called another meeting as night settled. The maps were updated with new markers. The mood was grim.

"We no longer have the luxury of slow integration," she said. "Harlan’s awakening is an asset we need to evaluate under pressure. Antoine, your team has the most recent combat experience against their probes. I want a controlled test."

Elandor looked up sharply. "He is still in early recovery."

"I’m aware," Veyra replied. "It will be limited. Supervised. But I need to know what he can actually do before the real assault begins." She turned to me. "You will face him in a restricted sparring engagement tomorrow. No lethal force. Controlled conditions. I want an honest assessment of his current capability from someone who has already fought beside him and against greater threats."

The order landed with quiet finality.

Harlan, present at the edge of the discussion, straightened. There was no hesitation in his face, only readiness, and something close to eagerness.

"I’ll be ready," he said.

I met his eyes across the table. The man who had once drawn a blade on me to protect this very choice now stood as a Level 9 mage with orders to test that power against me.

"Understood," I answered before turning and walking away. In a way I wanted to test my abilities against his. It would be my first time fighting a mage, and I wanted to know just how good my abilities fared against theirs. While this might be a friendly match to test strengths, I had no intention to lose.