"Are you okay?" I ask, hardly daring to breathe for fear that the trio will come back.

"Fine," Bastian says shortly. "We should get you to the combat assessment."

As we walk, I notice we're getting closer to the guards who are checking everyone's marks. My palms begin to sweat, and my breathing quickens. The silver spiral beneath my skin seems to writhe in response to my panic.

"Do they have to check our marks?" I ask, unable to keep the edge of hysteria from my voice.

"They're collecting the official count for Empire. Many die before Confluence Day and finally the Crucible, but Empire likes to keep statistics and have figures at every stage of development for its future primals," Bastian explains. "You'll be sent with others of your affinity for training, and after that, they'll send you to your affinity's tower. That's where you'll get your room assignment." His eyes drift to my hidden hand.

He must see the look of pure terror on my face, because he glances around, pulling me to the side for a moment of privacy in the busy corridor. "I know fire and earth get a bad reputation, but it's not the end of the world. Here at Confluence, you'll mostly deal with your own affinity, anyway. What the others think of you is hardly going to matter."

He thinks I'm embarrassed to bear one of the two elements most common in Red Kingdom. Fire or earth affinities. The marks of the enemy, to some. I wish it were only that.

The last thing I want to do is trust anyone here, but I can’t see a way out. I either have to trust Bastian or the guard. The choice seems obvious.

Adrenaline pumps through me as I withdraw my hand from my pocket.

The silver spiral gleams with its own magical light, shifting and flowing like liquid metal across my skin. It moves with a life of its own, coiling and uncoiling in an endless dance.

Bastian's eyes widen, not with fear but with something else I can't place. His breath catches audibly.

"Extraordinary," he whispers, reaching toward my hand before stopping himself. "But... you're an offering. Your mother or father weren't primals?"

I shake my head, not understanding the question.

"Fascinating." He scratches his chin, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"You know what this means?" I ask, voice barely audible. "Because I sure as hell don't, and I⁠—"

"I think I do, yes. There’s a book in my family library with this symbol on the cover. I’ll send for it, but it may take some time. Weeks, possibly.”

Weeks. Will I even be alive weeks from now? The way this place seems to feed on fear and death, it's hard to imagine surviving until tomorrow, let alone for weeks. But I don't want to seem ungrateful, so I nod my head and smile. "Thank you."