A stocky boy named Zeyn Strider, ran his thick fingers over his light brown hair as he piped in, “My Ma also thinks that Animus is partly of Chaos.” He continued in a louder voice, “Why else would it be effective against the Wyldlings.”

“Because Animus is the opposite of Chaos!” Janus, a slender boy with brown hair and deep blue eyes, exclaimed.

Heron, his voice breaking at every other word, growled, “You boys are just echoing what your parents say. Why don’t you think for a moment?”

Yuriko would have retorted but she could barely think at this point. Thankfully, Mikel answered with the same sentiments.

“Like you would know enough to form your own opinions,” the shorter boy snapped.

“What, are you just going to echo what your parents say?” Heron snapped back.

“That’s enough.” Elder Ramus cut in with a soft voice that somehow cut through the angry words like a hot knife through butter. The children grew silent and focused on him. “The time of the Ritual is nigh.” He continued with a smile.

The tension was palpable as the children took a collective breath, followed nearly immediately by gagging and coughing as the incense smoke irritated their nasal passages. 

Elder Ramus coughed into his hands, hiding a smile. A beam of moonlight shone from the ceiling, landing on the floor tile, and it inched closer and closer to the Altar while the Elder and the children followed it with bated breath.

When the moonlight touched the stone, a ripple emerged and spread outwards, hitting the walls of the spherical chamber in less time than it took to blink. It wasn’t so much seen as felt, especially when it washed over Yuriko’s body. The edges of her robe fluttered as though it were being blown by the wind. Then, the ripple bounced back from the walls and returned to the Altar before another emerged.

Every time the ripple hit her body, Yuriko felt as if her mind were being shaken loose from her body. It started with her legs going numb; she assumed it was from sitting cross-legged for so long. Except, as the ripples continued battering her body, the numbness spread upward and she found herself confronted with an odd sense of detachment. The sensation terrified her. 

She could feel her body moving at about half a heartbeat later than she intended it to; she noticed and counted it out when she tried to scratch the tip of her nose and her limbs took time to move. After a minute, she felt herself moving out of her body. She stiffened and, in a panic, she tried to move everything at once. The delay between intent and action had widened so much that it now took a few heartbeats before her hands even twitched.

“Don’t fight it,” Elder Ramus voice cut through the confusion. “Let it happen.”

The tranquility of his tone gave Yuriko voice served as an anchor point, and Yuriko mentally grasped at it. 

“Let it happen. Let your Anima free from its body. Do not resist the pulse. It will only harm you if you do.”

A vague sense of wrongness assaulted Yuriko’s mind. Her eyes twitched as she looked around her. Krystal, who was seated a few paces away from her, was seated calmly. If Krystal were panicking the same way Yuriko had, the pulse must have been dampening it. With every pulse that seemed to push and pull each of them, a cloud began forming around the other girl’s body. As the cloud grew, so did a silhouette begin forming: pale and insubstantial, but present and standing behind Krystal.

“Let it happen.”

A clearer outline of a figure appeared behind Mikel. It looked almost like a shadow, taking on the same shape as the boy except it appeared more like an aura.

Another pulse.

A similar cloud appeared over Yuriko’s hand briefly, as though it were being pushed out of her body, but it then it returned almost immediately inside.

“Don’t resist.”

Agony. 

When Yuriko instinctively pulled at the haze when the pulse happened, she felt like she was tearing something extremely important apart. And yet...she had to let go. It felt wrong to simply allow it to happen but at the same time, it hurt her when she resisted.

The other children’s Anima, the cloud-like substance that came from within them, were already distinct. Mikel’s was floating behind him, connected only by a thin tendril emerging from his back. Others were in a similar state. All of them were insensate with their eyes either closed or staring blankly at the Altar.

Except for her. 

Hers was still being battered by the pulse, pushing and pulling, trying to get it to leave her body. 

“Miss Davar, please let go.”

Unable to decide whether to address the pain she felt or the sense of wrongness that gnawed at her, Yuriko found herself paralysed, unable to decide what to do. Each second seemed endless, until, finally, she decided what to do--nothing. Her instincts screamed for her to act but somehow, she managed to quell the noise. She breathed deeply and relaxed her muscles. Somehow, the act sympathetically allowed her Anima to relax as well and accept the ripples drawing it out.

When she did, her view of the Altar room washed in a swirl of bright colours. 

The next thing Yuriko knew, she was in a field of darkness. From what Kato had told her, she may experience dreams or visions. This didn’t quite seem like a dream.

The immediate area surrounding her brightened and she could see herself floating and shifting with the ethereal winds. Around her, she could see the other children floating as she did. There was Krystal with her smooth dark hair, her green eyes lively as she stared into the distance. She seemed to see Yuriko, raising a hand to wave, before the winds blew her away. 

Heron floated past her, his dark eyes boring into hers. Yuriko floated next to Mikel, whose face was a pale shade of green. His eyes were wildly swimming and she reached out to pat his shoulder. Her hand stopped an inch away from touching him before the action propelled her away.

She drifted around for a while, surrounded by clouds of various colours. Reds, purples, greens, and yellows danced around her as unfamiliar figures joined her and the others who had been in the Ritual Chamber with her. Nearest to her now was Maryn, her long brown hair, normally in braids, hanging loose around her shoulders. As she floated nearer, Yuriko thought they might collide but they merely bounced off each other without touching.

There was a pair of golden-haired boys who floated, backs pressed against each other, in the distance surrounded by a halo of blue lightning. They were too far away for her to make out their features. 

After what seemed like hours, she found herself alone in the clouds. The light dimmed slowly until she found herself engulfed in darkness once again. Now, she couldn’t tell if she was moving or standing still. 

A bubble of colour abruptly materialized in front of her, expanding into a huge window that took up her entire field of vision. It blurred, shifting in focus until it shaped itself into an image. 

She immediately recognized her father. Virgil was aiming a Plasma Caster off in the distance, something that Yuriko had seen him do countless times. He was frozen in the act of pulling the trigger.

A moment later, his body turned translucent. She half-expected to see straight into his body but, mercifully, she did not. She knew she would have lost the contents of her stomach right then and there if she had. 

Instead, she saw a ball of white light centred around his core, right smack in the middle of his gut. Several streams separated from that ball, travelling up to his heart and forming a complex, three-dimensional pattern that made Yuriko’s head hurt just from looking at it. 

His Animus changed colour after going through the pattern, changing from white to a purple that was the exact shade she saw when he utilized his Animus. It spread to his eyes, down his arms, and into the Plasma Bolter. A little bit of it moved out of his body in a small shroud, forming a membrane around him. 

The image of her father faded away and was replaced by another. The man who appeared afterwards had sandy blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a strong jaw with day-old stubble who looked much like Virgil. It wasn’t Yuriko’s paternal grandfather though.

The man performed the same actions except he didn’t wield a Plasma Bolter. He used an older kind of rifle that fired solid bullets. The pattern in his chest was similar to Virgil’s but Yuriko could sense it wasn’t identical. She was, however, unable to pinpoint the differences. 

Several people inside the bubble performed similar actions, some male, others female. They used rifles, pistols, crossbows, and longbows. Some even threw knives or axes. 

This was the Heritage she wanted and she knew that if that bubble flew into her, it would be the one she would awaken. 

She tried with all her will to draw it into her body, but no, it refused to budge and she found herself unable to move.

The bubble began shrinking, drifting enticingly close, before finally moving away, keeping to an orbit that remained just beyond her reach.

Another bubble of colour floated towards her and, when it expanded, it showed a woman with refined features. She had long golden hair that seemed to float around her. Her ice-blue eyes bore straight into Yuriko’s. She was tall and slender, and there was no denying the femininity she embodied. It had been more than a year since Yuriko saw her mother and she wouldn’t see her again until a year later.

Sadeen Mishala lifted her hands and then her figure froze and turned translucent. The core of light inside her was brighter than Virgil’s. The streams of Animus that flowed out of her centre grew into a pattern so complex that it spanned Sadeen’s entire torso and all four of her limbs. The Animus that emerged from the pattern was a light green. 

She held no device or weapon and the tendrils of Animus spread out into the air. Her image froze at this point before fading away, only to be replaced by a different woman with similar statuesque features doing the same thing.

The bubble shrunk down and, like the Davar Heritage, began orbiting out of Yuriko’s reach. Her brows furrowed, Yuriko wondered which Heritage she would ultimately awaken. She desperately wanted her father’s Heritage, the Davar Marksmanship. Heritages typically passed from father to son, and mother to daughter. It wasn’t an ironclad rule and Yuriko desperately hoped she would be among the exceptions. 

The bubbles spun around her, growing slightly indistinct. She worried that she wouldn’t be able to distinguish either bubble when the time came to assimilate it.

To her surprise, however, another bubble approached. It expanded with a swirl of colours and revealed a stranger. The man had features similar enough to her uncles and aunts that she knew that he must be one of her ancestors. 

The man had a cruel cast to his features; it was the way his lips smirked and the glint in his eyes. He had a greatsword in his hand but it seemed to be far larger than it needed to be. It was made of some strange golden alloy and, all told, it should be as long as he was tall with a double-edged blade that was wider than his hand. But there was no actual edge to the blade as far as Yuriko could tell, and a fist-sized gem, the colour of blood, was set in the middle of the cross-guard. The gem gleamed, leaving a trail of red light when the man moved the sword. 

He swung it around as if it weighed nothing before letting it rest on his shoulder. When he turned translucent, the core of light inside him distributed the streams of Animus to small patterns around his body. Then, the patterns lit up as he moved while wielding the weapon. A few moments later, the bubble collapsed and joined those already orbiting around her.

Another bubble appeared and expanded. This one showed a woman, short and stocky, quite unlike what the rest of Yuriko’s family looked like. Her Animus manifested as arrows of light that she shot from a crossbow at an unseen target. The bubble collapsed and joined the others now swirling around Yuriko.

The process continued with bubble after bubble appearing, expanding, and collapsing. Each one showed a man or woman who had at least a tiny resemblance to Yuriko or other members of her family. She could no longer determine which bubble was her father’s and, if she could sweat, she would already be soaked to the bone.

‘Was it all up to chance?’

There was no way she could distinguish which of the thousands of bubbles orbiting her was the one she wanted. Each bubble had a distinct size, colour gradient, even shape. But which one was which? 

When no more bubbles arrived, she found that she could finally move. But Yuriko remained still; she was scared to choose the wrong bubble and set herself on a path that she didn’t want. 

‘Which one was it?’

She closed her eyes and visualized her father. Short-trimmed, sandy blonde hair, hazel eyes that turned purple when he used his Animus. The feel of steadiness and inevitability. When Da aimed at something, no matter how far away, it would get hit. No matter if the Wyldling ran, or hid, once Da pulled the trigger, the Plasma Bolt will strike it, penetrate its Field and destroy it.

Her father’s strike was inevitable. There was no escape.

Something pulled at her, and she opened her eyes, her gaze fell on one particular bubble. It was this one, she was sure of it. With a grin, she reached out.

She felt a small push at her back and she had only enough time to gasp in surprise when the darkness around them rushed in and dragged her down with it.