“Good, good! Now hold it...” Professor Landry called out from behind the safety of his improved barricade. It had been reinforced with magic this time to be significantly more sturdy, but it was still showing signs of damage wrought by Krarshe’s spells.
Krarshe held the flaming sphere over his head. The ball of fire encompassed most of the room, charring the tops of the dilapidated walls and expanding into the open sky above the training room. Krarshe focused as best he could, trying to maintain it. Before long, bolts of electricity began arcing along the sphere’s surface.
“No! No! Focus!”
Krarshe tried to focus on the mana flowing through him, but it didn’t help. The lightning grew more prominent, causing the great fireball to quiver and shake, losing its perfect form.
“Argh! It’s breaking down! Stop the cast!”
Lightning collided with the already-damaged walls and floor, showering the room in debris. Krarshe ended the spell as quickly as he could. “No good, I guess,” he sighed. This was the first day casting spells since his fight, having healed in just under a quarter-cycle thanks to Teva’s blessing. He was hoping something might have changed, but it was futile. Lightning was the only element he had demonstrated any semblance of control over, everything else backfired.
“Hmm.” Landry scribbled something down in his notebook and stood up. “You are quite the mystery. I thought we had stabilized it for a moment. The chaotic nature of your magic is...”
“Annoying?”
“Fascinating.” Landry’s mustache twitched in a smile.
Krarshe rubbed his hair, kicking loose some of the dust caught in his blond hair. “Not sure that’s the word I’d use.”
“Mysteries like this are what mages live for!”
Landry stood up and dusted off the bottom of his robes. Krarshe was honestly surprised the old man was still interested in these experiments. The results had been the same every day. With a few days until the end of Sirnus and the start of harvest season, he would have expected Landry’s initial excitement to have waned by now.
“Professor?”
“Hmm?”
“Could you explain- Do you know, what is mana control?”
“You mean the act of releasing mana?”
Krarshe shook his head. “No. I mean, yes, but is there more to it than that?” Lycia’s words had been bouncing around in his mind since they had last spoken a quarter-cycle ago, and he hadn’t seen her in those fifteen days to ask for clarification. Having spent every other day with Professor Landry, Krarshe figured they had built enough of a rapport that he could be forthright about this.
Professor Landry leaned against his barricade and stroked his long mustache pensively. “I do recall reading about such techniques. Many years ago, in fact.”
“What was it?”
“It’s been a while, but I think it was the theory that one could control their own mana through will. That it was possible to control its structure and how it behaved through practice alone.”
“That sounds incredible.”
“It is. But it’s largely a theory now.”
“But, why? Why wouldn’t it be used now?” Krarshe pressed the old teacher.
“Well, because it’s extremely difficult. This was back during the height of the empire, when there were many fewer mages. Most people couldn’t use magic, so it alone granted you noble status. The time they had to practice and the skill of mages at the time are not like they are today.”
“So spellcasting became the common way to use it?”
Landry nodded. “This allowed for there to be more mages. Especially useful in times of war.”
“Hmm...” Krarshe thought about Lycia’s training. If she was learning mana control, what kind of teacher was her mother?
“It was said,” Landry started, “that exceptionally gifted mages could cast spells through control of their mana alone.”
“Only mana control?” Krarshe asked.
“Yes. No spellcast at all.”
“That’s... Can ANYONE do that?”
Landry shrugged. “I know of no one gifted enough to do that. You’d have to be as powerful as the first emperor was. Or so the stories go.”
“Ehem!”
Both Krarshe and Landry were startled by a man clearing his throat. They turned to see Professor Owyn standing at the door, impatiently tapping his finger as he crossed his arms.
“Oh, it seems we’ve run over again.” Landry laughed, clearly knowing that they had run late. It was all too common and it clearly annoyed Owyn, a fact that Krarshe derived twisted pleasure from. Since returning to class, Owyn had not hid his disdain for Krarshe. It made reciprocating the feeling very easy.
“My apologies, Professor,” Krarshe said with an exaggerated bow.
“Yes, yes. Just leave. You can put the equipment back later, we won’t need it today.”
Again, Krarshe bowed and left for the store. Mana control... Is Lycia actually learning that? I hope she’s here again today.
Krarshe rested his chin on his palm as he waited for Na’kika to bring out his food. Unfortunately, Lycia hadn’t shown up at the store so he was left to speculate and theorize alone. Maybe this mana control could help my spellcasting... He hummed absent-mindedly to Henry’s lute, the cheerful tune burrowing into his ears, undoubtedly to be stuck in his head as he tried to sleep later.
The Easy Lute was quieter since Burmir left. It took only a day or so for word to spread, thus returning the inn’s occupancy to what it was when Krarshe first came. Furthermore, Henry had been on his own the last two nights. Giselle apparently had some business elsewhere, but Krarshe didn’t want to be rude by pressing for details. With just Henry playing, the dining hall had only a few patrons, and Krarshe welcomed the quiet meal. It also helped that he didn’t have to worry if they had fish left on any given night now.
The placid dining hall helped him get his thoughts in order. As he had walked through the busy streets of Feyfaire, he wondered if it would be better to leave the academy. Not for the reason he’d previously toyed with, but to pursue a new teacher. A better teacher. One who, rather than study him, would help him cast spells. Lycia’s mother seemed to be a gifted mage, especially if she was teaching her daughter to control her mana. Maybe there was something to it, something that would stabilize his own spells. But his new struggle was the fact that he’d just reunited with his friends. The whole ordeal had made him painfully aware of how important his relationship with them was. It might have been better to have left before talking with them again.
A plate of grilled fish plopped down in front of him. “Thanks, Na’kika.” He reached up and pet her head, which she accepted gratefully as she lowered her head to meet his hand. It had become a bit of a ritual for the two of them, one that took Krarshe some getting used to. It was awkward at first, but seeing how happy it made her, he forced himself to get over his embarrassment.
When she had enough attention, she stood up fully and gave a slight bow before turning to the kitchen. She seemed happy. Or at least, happier than when he’d first come to the inn. Krarshe wasn’t familiar with catfolk, but he knew Na’kika well by this point, and her body language spoke volumes. There was a spring in her step, and her tail was always speaking to her joy.
Another thought entered his mind. “Oh, Na’kika. A moment, if you would.”
Na’kika stopped and returned to Krarshe’s side, swiftly enough to make him question if she was eager to come back. She tilted her head inquisitively.
“I was just curious... So, you know how I mentioned I was attending the academy here in Remonnet, yes?”
Na’kika nodded.
“What would you think if... I left the academy?”
Na’kika cocked her head to the side and raised her hands in a questioning gesture.
“I’m starting to think I won’t be able to learn what I need to learn from the academy. There was another teacher I had in mind.”
She pursed her lips and looked off to the side, carefully considering her response. After a moment, Na’kika shrugged and nodded in agreement.
Krarshe paused for a second before bringing up the next point. He wasn’t sure if she had considered this when she responded, but he was afraid to tell her. He could anticipate her response. “You... do know that would mean I’d probably be leaving Remonnet... right?”
Na’kika’s amber eyes opened wide, her tail stood up straight. She dropped her wooden tray and grabbed hold of his arm, hugging it against her chest. She began furiously shaking her head side to side, her orange-red hair brushing up against his robed arm.
Krarshe knew this would happen, just based on her behavior of late. He noticed Henry had stopped playing and was watching the scene, as had the few customers in the dining hall. Krarshe could feel his face redden with embarrassment. He looked down at Na’kika, who continued to cling to him, pressing her face into his arm.
Well, this could be a problem. “Na’kika, Na’kika, relax. I haven’t gone anywhere yet.” Krarshe put his hand gently upon her head.
She shook her head again. The fur of her ear tickled his palm. It was the first time he’d ever touched her ears, as she was usually very protective of them.
“What’s going on?” Valerie asked, hurrying over to the table. She gestured Henry to go back to his playing, which he did without hesitation. Before long, the customers returned to their meals and Henry’s music.
“I was just telling her I was...” Krarshe stopped and looked down at the troubled catfolk girl. Whispering, he said, “I was thinking of leaving Remonnet.”
Valerie gave him a disapproving look and shook her head. She turned to Na’kika, still clinging to Krarshe’s arm, and crouched down to put her arm around her. “Na’kika. It’s okay. He’s not going anywhere.” Valerie looked at Krarshe. “Right?”
With just a look, he could read what she was thinking. “Right. Na’kika, I changed my mind. I’m not going anywhere.” He again pet her on the head.
Slowly, she loosened her grip on his arm and looked up at him. Her eyes glistened with moisture, on the verge of tears.
“I wouldn’t just disappear on you, Na’kika,” Krarshe said, continuing to pet her head.
Na’kika sniffed and further relinquished his arm. She gave a hesitant smile, forcing a tear free from her eye and trickling down her cheek. She grabbed a hold of his hand and rubbed her face against it, smearing the tear across her face.
“There, now. You just return to the kitchen and take a moment to calm down, okay?” Valerie instructed.
Na’kika nodded and stood up. She staggered to the kitchen, bumping into tables and chairs as she went.
“Now, you,” Valerie said, turning toward Krarshe. “Not that it’s any business of mine, but why would you be leaving?”
“To replace a new teacher. The academy isn’t teaching me what I thought it would.”
Valerie sighed. “Well, that IS a fair reason.” She put a finger to her lip pensively as she turned to the kitchen. She stood there quietly, playing with her bottom lip as she stared idly, lost in thought. “I wish I could protect her, but there’s not a lot I can do in this situation. Your business is your own, and it’d be unreasonable to demand you stay just for her.”
Krarshe looked toward the kitchen as well. “It’s not my intention to hurt her, especially with what she’s gone through. But I may have no choice. I wasn’t expecting her to get so attached to me.”
“This is beyond what I expected as well. It was a good laugh, sure, but I didn’t expect it to become this big of an issue.”
“A laugh, huh?”
“Of course. You two were so cute together.” Valerie giggled.
Krarshe rolled his eyes. “Well, we at least have time to figure it out. I haven’t decided whether to leave or not yet anyway.”
“I pray you decide to stay. For her sake.”
“That would certainly be the easiest solution. The question of whether that’s the correct one... That remains to be seen.”
Valerie sighed again. “Well, enjoy your meal. I’m going to go check on her.”
“Thanks,” Krarshe said as she left. For more than just your sentiment, he thought. Ugh. I wonder if it was a mistake to get so close with her. He stopped and shook his head in disappointment. No, I don’t regret it. But this certainly adds another layer of difficulty to this decision. He sighed, looking down at his grilled fish. He suddenly wasn’t that hungry. Wisdom, guide me.
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