For a moment, Aria stopped and shielded her eyes. Auras spilled across the open space, and Aria could barely see through to the people that made the light. Some auras stretched high in bursts of white, a sign that telekinetics worked at some task. Judging from the too bright colors and excited twittering, Aria guessed it was a party.

Aria blinked rapidly. Her eyes would adjust but only a little.

Pan sighed. “Just wonderful.”

Aria heard the sarcasm, but she decided to take the words at face value. “I know wonderful. It’s a party. A nice coming home sight.” Aria still squinted against the light.

Pan laughed short and soft. She pointed into the atrium. “This is not nice. It’s someone’s birthday.”

“Birthday? Who do we know who has a birthday this month?” Aria half-closed her eyes. Her lashes blocked some of the light.

“Well…I can think of someone who’s made a big deal of her birthday for the last twelve years, give or take a few days. This is her month.”

Aria felt her eyes go wide. They watered as light got in. “Uda!” Aria made a sound of disgust. “No. I don’t want to be a part of that.”

Uda was not someone worthy of Aria’s appreciation. The fire starter had made Aria’s first year of arcane hood miserable, before Pan entered Aria’s life and tempered Uda’s bullying. Pan and Aria both had a degree of distaste for Uda. Aria avoided her at all costs, easy now that Uda lived off the campus. Pan, on occasion, still sought Uda out and played little anonymous tricks. Aria would like to say she was above it all, but Pan’s tricks entertained and pleased her still.

“If this is Uda’s party, something’s bound to go wrong,” Pan said.

Aria’s heart fluttered. “Pan, you shouldn’t. You’ll get caught this time for sure.”

“With no time to plan? Maybe…” Pan’s eyes shifted around the atrium, and her aura glowed lavender. “…but any chance to make Uda’s life a little less wonderful is worth the risk.”

Aria laughed, not full of mirth. “It is not,” she said in a low voice. “If the mentors catch you…”

Pan raised her eyebrows. “They’ll do what? They don’t control me anymore.”

“Then, it’ll be disciplinary action from the board instead. Same as the mentors get.” Aria watched Pan.

Red fluttered through her friend’s aura.

Aria blew out a long breath and looked away. She looked back into the bright light of the party. It was all yellow and white and too much. Aria closed her eyes. She hoped the excitement would calm.

Pan whispered in Aria’s ear. “I don’t think it’s Uda’s party.”

Aria kept her eyes closed and shook her head. “It better not be.” She paused a moment and asked, “Why do you think that?”

Pan’s footsteps moved ahead. She seemed not to hear Aria’s question. “Is it just me, or does Spyridoula look not long for this world?”

Aria opened one eye. Auras pierced her view, and she looked away.

“Take my word for it.” Pan took Aria’s arm and pulled her across the floor.

The light before Aria’s eyelids dimmed. She blinked and opened her eyes. They stood in a hallway. Light from the atrium spilled in but didn’t quite reach them.

Pan had her back turned. She looked into the atrium and blocked a good deal of the intense glow. “I saw Uda setting up some candles. She wouldn’t do that if it was her party. It’s a surprise for someone else, but I doubt you’ll be able to attend.” Pan took on a posture that suggested she crossed her arms. “Spy should retire. They don’t even have to replace her. Our team is older. We can do without four mentors.”

Aria nodded, though she knew Pan had her back turned and wouldn’t see. Aria agreed. If Spy left, they could do without the fourth mentor. Most of them performed their jobs without guidance. They slowly aged out of the mentorship program.

Aria also had an ulterior motive. Aria loved Spy, but seeing less of her could be good. Aging had not been kind to Spy, and Aria always felt a sneaking apprehension about her own future when in the presence of their eldest mentor.

To become arcane, every man and woman had to survive arcanemorphosis, playfully dubbed arcanerty. Arcanemorphosis occurred just after the start of puberty and landed every arcane in the hospital for two to six weeks. A long time ago, doctors mistook arcanemorphosis for a mysterious illness, but when the patients exhibited arcane powers, they knew it was something else. Half of those children died. Now, the survival rate surpassed ninety-five percent. Good news for Aria and Pan. Good news for Scaldigir.

Still, arcanerty wasn’t fun. It involved a potential coma and nerve pain as well as weakened muscles and bones. These things got better but not completely. The lucky ones contended with intermittent tingling, some slight pain, and weakness. Unlucky arcanes could expect more disruptions, usually starting between their sixtieth and seventy-fifth birthdays. The very unlucky ones ended up with a degenerative condition.

Spy weathered one of the more severe Shifts in her generation. It left her with all the degenerative joys of being an old arcane. The speedy woman now needed a walker to get around.

Genetics had not been kind to Spy, but her aura told a different story. Aria couldn’t see Spy’s aura at the moment, but she remembered it well. She would never forget. Spy’s aura glowed in emerald green and golden yellow, compassionate and friendly. It held orange excitement and lust for life. It possessed the blue of wisdom. It reached far and gathered up the mentees in a warm, energetic embrace. Spy really loved her job.

“She probably doesn’t want to go,” Aria said

Pan turned around. She opened and closed her left-fingers. “My left hand has been bothering me. Probably psychological, right? I see Spy. I feel unhealthy.”

Aria’s mouth dropped open. “Pan…” Aria’s arms tingled too. She probably shouldn’t talk.

Pan raised her left hand. “Maybe, we can blame it on the weather like all the superstitious ghosts would have me believe. You can feel a storm coming in your knees. Did you know that?”

Aria smiled and looked beyond Pan. The light seemed dimmer, and Aria could see a few figures amid the yellow and white. They looked like dancers in an Avant Garde performance.

Aria said, “I’m curious. Whose birthday is it? I don’t think the mentors would go to this kind of trouble for a single student, and there are men and women here who live off site. Do you think it’s a mentor’s birthday?”

“Maybe.” Pan crossed to Aria’s side and waited just out of the light. “That would draw everyone back. But, it wouldn’t have worked on me – if we still had that apartment.”

“Are you still miffed about that? I don’t want to pay for an apartment I don’t use.” Aria watched Pan.

Pink fluttered through Pan’s aura, and yellow followed. Surprising colors: affection and embarrassment. Aria had seen them on Pan when they discussed Sotir, but Aria never dreamed they would inhabit Pan’s aura during a discussion of their failed living arrangement. What did those colors have to do with their being roommates? Aria stiffened. She hoped it wasn’t what she thought because she thought Pan wanted to spend her evenings in an apartment alone with Sotir. The embarrassed yellow lent credence to the idea.

Let it be, Aria warned herself. Don’t tell her not to do it because then, she’ll want to do it more. Don’t even bring it up.

 Aria half-closed her eyes and entered the atrium. She strode in and kept her head down.

Pan hurried after. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to ask whose party it is?” Aria squinted hard. “If it’s a mentor’s, we probably can’t skip.”

“You can skip,” Pan said.

Deeper in the room, Aria could see more people in the light. Telekinetics floated decorations into place. Girls set a table. Some directed, and some placed chairs and place settings. Through the haze of aura, Aria also saw some real light. A pair of fire starters lit candles around the room’s edges. One of them happened to be Uda, just as Pan said.

“So, what do you think, Aria?”

Aria braced for more talk of tricks and Uda.

“Is fire starting a good power or a bad power?”

Aria felt herself frown. “Pan, not this again. There’s no such thing as good and bad powers. Every power is useful.”

So, their mentors said, and Aria parroted.

Pan leaned close and whispered, “Fire starting is a common power. Like other common powers, that would suggest it’s good. Right? After all, the only trouble with common powers is learning how to shut them off and be precise. And, there’s always someone to help with that because they’re common.” Pan held up a finger. “Yet, fire starting, when you begin with it, can be very destructive. Take for instance the special room a fire starter has to occupy for a few months. Telekinetics might levitate everything willy nilly, but it rarely results in anything worse than a broken vase or...bone.”

“So, fire starting is a bad power now?” Aria asked.

Pan classified all powers into good and bad. Pan asserted that good powers were usually common, could be turned off and controlled, and enhanced the user’s life. Healing, telekinesis, ice shaping, and fire starting – until now – fell into that category. Bad powers were uncommon, could not be turned off, and came with consequences rather than enhancements. Seeing spirits and auras were uncommon powers. Pan wanted Aria to believe they’d both been given some kind of curse. Aria didn’t want to see it that way.

Pan continued, “Fire starting is somewhere in-between, I think. Hard to learn, but eventually, fire starters learn full control.” She stared at the fire starters, with an analytical expression.

Aria sighed. “We can’t change what we got.”

“No, we can’t.” Pan’s aura turned a somber blue-grey.

Aria didn’t say anything more. She caught a glimpse of her own aura, usually a dusty, immoveable blue, it mirrored some of Pan’s grey. Aria looked away and saw the green-gold of Spy.

Spy made her way over, sliding the walker with each step. “Oh, Aria! You’re back. How was space?”

Aria smiled. “Fine.”

“Just fine?” Spy feigned shock, but she smiled too much to make it convincing. “Did I ever tell you girls about the time I ran on the outside of a warship?” Spy’s power was common. She could run fast – very fast. Even in her old age, she could manage it here and there.

Pan showed purple. “You have told us many times about the great warship race.” Pan smiled through her aura. “But, I never tire of it. Tell us again how you put leaks in all the Soffigen air tanks, forcing them to recall their boarding party…though some didn’t make it.”

Spy made a face of concern. “Bloodthirsty Pan. When you put it like that, I think I’ll save it for another day.”

Aria squinted side to side. “Uh, Spy? What is this?”

Spy smiled wide. Her aura flared in green and yellow. “It’s a surprise party for our dear Sotir. It’s his birthday today. He’s done a lot for Scaldigir recently, and we’re going to celebrate him. I don’t think he’s ever had a party, not while he’s been arcane. He’ll be what…twenty-six? Twenty-seven?” Spy frowned. “How time flies.” A paused followed. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Pan’s aura oozed yellow in two competing shades. One spoke of fear; the other spoke of regret, embarrassment, and guilt. “Me too,” Pan whispered, sounding not at all enthusiastic.

Aria heard it. Spy didn’t.

Spy gestured at the table. “It’s coming along nice. We’ll get the food out, turn down the lights, and hopefully we’ll get some darkness before it’s time for the surprise.

Aria smiled weakly. She raised a finger. “Uh…Spy. It all sounds very nice, but what about the whole surprise part? Sotir, can see the future. He’ll know.”

Spy made a face of mock exasperation. “Tell me about. It’s been tough, but his old mentors insist we’ve maintained the surprise. Sotir is out with some of the arcane men, and they’re distracting him.”

“He knows,” Pan said. “There’s no way he doesn’t.”

“Have a little hope,” Spy scolded.

Aria tended to agree with Pan. She couldn’t imagine a surprise for Sotir. She didn’t think they would pull it off, especially if any advance planning went into the event.

An arcane girl approached Spy. Aria stared hard at the aura and recognized it as Remei.

Remei captured Spy’s attention. “Please, please, please, can we have some dancing?”

Aria looked at Pan.

Pan just raised her eyebrows as if to say Dancing?

Spy shook her head. “I’m sorry. There just isn’t space. Besides, I think this will be more of a dinner and some light conversation.”

Pan led Aria away. “Do you think this is a gift giving occasion?”

“No. I don’t see a gift table.” Aria squinted and searched for boxes. She probably wouldn’t see them, even if they did exist. They’d be too dim, but there was no table for gifts.

“I didn’t get him anything. Aria, I didn’t even know it was his birthday,” Pan whispered. “Don’t you think I should have known?”

Aria frowned. “Why? Because you spend so much time with him? Or because…”

Pan shushed her. “Don’t say anything. I feel bad enough. Chara wants us.” Pan pointed discretely.

Aria looked where Pan pointed. She saw the edge of the atrium. It looked dark in comparison to the party table, except for an aura of blue and green.

Chara, their healer mentor, beckoned. Chara was seventy-eight years old. An edge of white lined her aura. It signified a perpetual use of her power. Chara always seemed fit and healthy. Perhaps, there was something to this good and bad power thing after all.

Aria and Pan followed Chara’s gesture. As they got closer, Aria could make out Chara’s white hair, loosely tied back from her shoulders.

“Welcome back, Aria. Would you two mind helping me grab some of the food?

Pan’s aura flared. “Food…oh right, food.”

Yes, Pan, all parties have food. Aria stepped forward. “We can help. Will we find it in the kitchen?”

Chara waved for them to follow. “Come with me. I’ll grab something too. And yes, we’re having food. What is a birthday party without food? It’s nice when someone cooks for you, isn’t it?”

Pan’s aura surged. “Oh, yes.”

They left the atrium and entered the dim hall. At least, Aria found it dim, away from the other arcanes’ light. Her eyes had finally adjusted to the manic glow. Now, she had to adjust again. She followed Chara. Along the walls, Aria saw faded colors, the remnants of people who had passed through.

She glanced down and saw her own aura. It had regained its dust blue and white edges. Aria rarely saw emotional colors in her aura. She saw her base shades, the ones that described her personality. In a trust building exercise, Pan once described Aria as eminently rational. So, Aria assumed that explained her static aura. Still, she remembered other colors in her younger years. What had happened to them?

In contrast, Pan’s aura moved for her emotions. Pan possessed a base of blue-grey and purple. Over that, Pan’s aura often swirled with emotional colors and patterns. Angry red happened to be the most common, but at this moment, Aria saw a hint of altruistic gold.

Aria saw gold on few people. Navy officers and rescue crews served as the key supply. It signified their strong desire to do right by others. Aria liked that about Pan. Pan had some gold. Aria wished she saw more of it.

Funny that food should bring out the best in Pan. She wants to be helpful now. Or, maybe, it’s Sotir that brings that color.

Chara led them into the kitchen. The room accommodated a large island, with metal countertop. On the counter, Aria saw food. It glowed. The scene reminded Aria of a spring festival, painted in one of her childhood books. Everything glowed in warm shades of purple, green, and cream.

“I know, it looks delicious,” Chara said. “Probably even better with your eyes.”

Aria looked at the ground.

“Let’s see…Aria, you take this exotic cheese plate.” Chara picked up a metal tray.

Aria took the tray. She could see the cheese and crackers. Their details ran together beneath cream light. They looked perfect, not like a photograph but like a painting.

Chara picked up a bowl of fruit; each piece blazed like a little star. “I’ll take this bowl since it’s a bit heavy. And, Pan, you can take…” Chara looked up.

Aria followed Chara’s gaze.

Pan already held a cake. The chocolate emitted a shine of gold. Aria could tell that this was a noble cake.

“The cake. You can take the cake.” Chara smiled. “Alright, follow me back to the foyer.”

Pan put her nose over the cake and inhaled deeply. “Oh, he’ll like this.”

Aria wanted to laugh. Pan’s aura waved with pure pink and the lavender of mischief. Aria wanted to say that Sotir might like the cake less if he knew Pan’s nose had been in it, but she didn’t have the chance. Pan took two steps, and the cake fell from her hands.

Devastation swept through Pan’s aura in shades of red, blue, and yellow – hues of frustration, sadness, and anxiety. The colors blotted out Pan’s features, but Aria could imagine her friend’s horrified face.

The cake seemed to fall in slow motion. Its gold aura shimmered like a halo, completely unaware of what was about to happen. Then, the cake flipped. Time sped up, and it landed on its head.

Pan fell to her knees. “No.” Her aura drew itself in.

Chara made a sound of comfort. “Oh, that’s disappointing. I thought that tray might be a bit much for you. Don’t worry, we have other dessert.”

Aria bowed her head. No pleasant colors could be seen in Pan’s aura, and it wasn’t the dessert that Pan worried about.

“Maybe, we can send someone out for a replacement cake,” Chara said.

“Not me.” Pan held her left wrist aloft. “Now, we know it wasn’t the weather or psychology. It tingles.”

“Your arm is bothering you?” Chara took Pan’s arm, and white blazed over the limb.

Aria loved to watch a healer work. She wanted to say…what about me? It felt so nice to be healed.

Chara worked.

Pan sighed. She waited through the healing, and her aura grew calm. “I killed the cake.”

Aria smiled. “It was a noble thing, shining in gold.”

Pan’s eyes widened. “Gold?” A flicker of disappointment ran through her aura.

Aria nodded. “Gold. I think it might deserve a state funeral.”

Chara planted her hands on her knees and rose. She shook her head. “You two. It’s just cake.”

“No,” Pan said. “It was Sotir’s birthday cake, and I ruined it.”

Chara grabbed some towels. Her aura swirled with a combination of colors that suggested pity. “I’ll clean up the cake. Would you get the salad? Your arm should be fine now.”

Pan nodded. She picked up the bowl. “Where should we take these?”

Chara said, “To the table.”

They walked down the hall, side by side.

“She missed you,” Pan said.

“I guess, but we don’t always see each other even when I’m around.”

Pan shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean she missed you while you were away. I meant she missed a chance to give you healing. She didn’t offer you any, and I know you could use it because you often can.”

Aria felt her face warm. “I never asked.”

“No, but you should.”

Aria squinted at the atrium ahead. It was just like Pan to change the subject and divert Aria’s attention away from Sotir and Pan’s feelings about him, which appeared to be substantial and quite complex.

Aria’s eyes teared. She had adjusted to the lower light. Now, she had to transition back.

A subtle glow stepped from a side passage. “Can you see where you’re going, Aria?” The stern voice belonged to Brynn, their third mentor, a seventy-nine-year-old telekinetic.

Brynn held a staff that she used as a cane. Her hair fell straight to her waist, in streaks of black, grey, and white. Her aura hugged her body. It shimmered in shades of deep blue.

Aria answered, “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Well, don’t drop it.” Brynn pointed to the cheese plate.

Pan’s aura flared orange and red.

Brynn tapped her staff on the floor. “Are you attending the party?”

Aria felt judged. She began to walk towards the hall. Her arms started to feel tired. “Yes.”

“Panphila? You too?” Brynn asked again.

“Yes. Of course.” Pan started to follow Aria.

“Of course? Oh, right, because Sotir is your new friend. You and he are around each other as much as you and Aria used to be.” Brynn smiled. “Pan. Panphila, what will we do with you?” Brynn walked in the opposite direction.

Pan’s aura flared red. She spoke too low for Brynn to hear. “A whole lot of nothing. That’s what you should do.”

Aria moved ahead. Brynn would lecture them till the days they died.