The Last Triumvirate

"Mr. Loma. Mr. Taksa. Mr. Hann." Professor Nyala's voice cut through their contemplation as she approached from across the courtyard. "A moment of your time, please."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked toward the Department of Historical Practices building. The three exchanged glances before following, their aching muscles protesting each step.

Instead of her office, Professor Nyala led them to a small chamber hidden behind a panel in the library. Unlike the grand spaces they'd seen before, this room was intimate and circular, with a domed ceiling painted with constellations that shifted subtly when viewed from different angles. In the center stood a round table of polished stone, etched with familiar triangular patterns.

Master Damian was already present, arranging various artifacts on the table. He looked up as they entered, nodding a greeting.

"Before tomorrow arrives," Professor Nyala said as she closed the door behind them, "we must assess your current capabilities. Knowledge of where you stand may mean the difference between survival and catastrophe."

"Why the secrecy?" Saguna asked, the whispers in his mind growing momentarily louder in the enclosed space.

Professor Nyala and Master Damian exchanged a glance, a wordless communication passing between them.

"Because what we're about to share isn't in the official Academy curriculum," Master Damian finally said. "Some knowledge is kept from general circulation for good reason."

Professor Nyala moved to a hidden compartment in the wall and retrieved an ancient tome bound in weathered leather. "The Codex of the Veil," she explained, placing it carefully on the table. "One of only three remaining copies."

As she opened it, the pages seemed to glow subtly from within, illuminating intricate diagrams centered around variations of the triangular symbol they all bore.

"The ancients understood that Veil abilities develop in stages," she explained. "They created a classification system to measure progress and potential." She turned to a specific page showing five variations of an inverted triangle, each progressively more complete.

"The Trifold Seal evolves as your connection to your element and the Veil strengthens," Professor Nyala continued. "It begins as three separate points—" she gestured to the first diagram, showing three dots in triangular formation, "—and gradually develops connections and internal patterns as your abilities advance."

Radji leaned forward, his analytical mind immediately engaged despite his exhaustion. "Fascinating. A visible representation of spiritual development."

"Precisely," Master Damian confirmed. "Five distinct tiers of ability, from Novice to Master." He pointed to each diagram in turn.

"Tier 1 – Novice: Basic awareness of one's element and rudimentary influence. The three points remain separate.

"Tier 2 – Initiate: Deliberate manipulation of one's element in simple ways. One side of the triangle connects.

"Tier 3 – Adept: Complex manipulation and sustained control. Two sides connect, forming a partial triangle.

"Tier 4 – Expert: Transformation of one's element and beginning attunement to the Veil itself. The triangle closes completely.

"Tier 5 – Master: The center point appears and connects to all three points of the triangle, representing harmony of all three Veil Arts."

Osa whistled low. "And where exactly do we fall on this fancy scale? I'm guessing somewhere between 'completely useless' and 'slightly less useless'?"

"Let's find out," Professor Nyala said, gesturing to the open space before the table. "Each of you will demonstrate your current connection to your element. We will assess your tier based on both your ability and the state of your mark."

Osa stepped forward first, his natural confidence making him the obvious volunteer. "What exactly am I supposed to do?"

"Focus on your element," Professor Nyala instructed. "Call to it as you did during today's training. Let it respond to your will."

With a shrug, Osa closed his eyes, his hand unconsciously moving to cover the mark above his heart. For several moments, nothing happened. Then, a small bowl of water on one of the pedestals began to ripple, the surface forming tiny waves that moved against natural patterns. With visible concentration, Osa raised his hand, and a thin stream of water rose from the bowl, hovering unsteadily in the air for several seconds before splashing back down.

Professor Nyala observed closely, her eyes narrowed in assessment. "May I see your mark, Mr. Hann?"

Osa unbuttoned the top of his shirt, revealing the mark above his heart. What had started as three distinct dots now showed a change—two of the points were connected by a faint blue line, forming one side of a triangle.

"According to the ancient texts," Professor Nyala said, her voice taking on a formal quality, "you have displayed Tier 2 abilities in water manipulation—remarkable for someone with no formal training. Your mark has begun its first evolution, confirming the assessment."

Osa grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "Hear that? I'm a Tier 2... whatever she said. Initiate."

"Water typically resists initial connection," Professor Nyala added. "Its fluid nature makes it the most difficult element to influence at lower tiers. Your natural aptitude is... significant."

Radji volunteered next, stepping carefully to the center. Unlike Osa's casual approach, he assumed a precise stance Master Tanaga had taught them, his movements deliberate and measured. He extended his hands toward a pedestal containing various soils and focused intently.

After several moments of concentration, the soil began to shift, forming geometrically perfect concentric circles that expanded outward from the center. The pattern held for nearly half a minute before collapsing back into random distribution.

When he displayed his mark, they saw that like Osa's, one line had formed connecting two of the points on his forearm.

"Tier 2 – Initiate," Professor Nyala confirmed. "Your methodical approach serves you well with earth, Mr. Loma. Earth requires precision and patience—qualities you possess in abundance."

Finally, Saguna took his place in the circle, already anticipating disappointment. His attempts to connect with fire during training had yielded minimal results compared to his companions' successes.

"I'm not sure I can do this," he admitted, the whispers in his mind a constant distraction.

"Focus not on the flame itself, but on transformation," Professor Nyala advised. "Fire is change made manifest."

Saguna closed his eyes, trying to block out the whispers. He thought of his sister, of the accident, of the changes that had rippled through his life afterward. The marks on his neck warmed in response to these emotions, heat spreading down his spine.

On the nearest pedestal, a single candle flickered, its flame dancing erratically before suddenly flaring higher for a brief moment, then returning to normal.

"A response, if minimal," Professor Nyala noted. "Turn, please, so I may see your mark."

Saguna did as instructed. Unlike Osa and Radji, his mark remained three separate dots, showing no connection between the points.

"Tier 1 – Novice," Professor Nyala assessed. "But with potential. The whispers you hear demonstrate a different kind of connection to the Veil—one not strictly tied to elemental manipulation. This suggests a predisposition toward Veil Walking rather than pure fire control."

Saguna felt the familiar sting of being behind, of not measuring up. "So I'm the weakest."

"Not weakest," Professor Nyala corrected firmly. "Different. Each member of the Triumvirate traditionally specializes in one of the three Veil Arts—Walking, Binding, or Speaking. Your connection appears oriented toward Walking, which often develops more slowly but reaches greater depths."

When the evaluations concluded, an uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Saguna, still stinging from being ranked lowest, finally asked the question that had been forming in his mind since they entered.

"How do you know so much about this? About us? About the Triumvirate?" His gaze moved between Professor Nyala and Master Damian. "It's not just academic knowledge, is it?"

Professor Nyala's eyes met Master Damian's again, and something unspoken passed between them. With a small nod from him, she sighed and stepped around the table.

"You're right," she said quietly. "Our knowledge isn't purely academic."

Slowly, she rolled up her left sleeve, revealing her forearm. There, nearly faded to invisibility but still discernible, was a mark unlike theirs—a complete triangle with intricate patterns within, but with one critical difference. Where the center point should connect to all three vertices, one connection was severed, the line broken and jagged.

"You were part of a Triumvirate," Radji breathed, understanding immediately.