7 - Six Months

“This is… Kind of embarrassing.”

The youth would mutter to himself, while ‘staring’ at the golden bundle of light in the abyss of Archê. Seeing wasn't the appropriate word, but it was the closest way to describe it. Deep inside him, as if an entire other abyss was located in the interior of his body, a flickering golden light showed its existence, located near the heart.

But, he could tell something was wrong with it. Apart from his decision to follow fantasy novel tropes, he had figured out where that Core was located, thanks to the two stationed outside the room. By observing their ‘inactive’ Ark flows, he spotted the area in which Archê gathered the most, before dispersing. And by observing them, he noticed a big difference between his and their Cores.

A continuous glow, only dimming at times but never stopping completely, was emitted from their Cores. On the other hand, Arthur's was flickering like a broken Christmas tree light, one moment golden and the next complete darkness. Yup, his Core was busted. The lung comparison was good for the Core, but he preferred more technical terms.

Archê was the fuel, his Core was an engine, and Ark was the produced energy. With a broken engine, that fuel risked damaging the other components of the larger construct, those being his body, if he tried starting it up. No matter how he put it, the damage he had inflicted onto himself was extremely serious. Trying to start an engine with burning fluid, or breathing in pure carbon monoxide- he was in a bad spot.

The theory held up decently, so now he could move onto the more pressing matter at hand, how to fix his broken Core. Would a damaged Core warrant damage spreading to other organs, like an internal bleeding? Or maybe even lead to death, in the long run, like an organ failing? No, it didn't feel like that, at least.

He furrowed his brows, thinking. Could he, fix his broken Core? No, most definitely, he couldn't. All he knew derived from his own theories, with little to no proof apart from his ‘instinctive’ feeling. Could one fix an engine, knowing only it produces energy, and not knowing the first thing about the energy source, the produced energy, how the engine worked, or what happened if it malfunctioned? Well, he knew the last one, at least.

“Pain and such…”

He murmured to himself, the stinging pain in his joints persisting. Still, the pain had decreased in intensity ever so slightly, since he started focusing more on trying to figure out how to properly use Archê.

Swaying from side to side with his legs crossed, he kept thinking, trying to brainstorm ideas, to fix his situation. Sure, he was given a second chance at life, but if he couldn't even use the most basic form of the science which drove that world, it would be just another wasted life. Well, it was magic, but he thought of it as a science, since it was logical enough.

Shifting his focus once again to the two figures standing outside his room, who for whatever reason hadn't yet entered, he'd analyze their Cores. Archê, shifting and moving, rested inside those Cores, continuously being refined and expelled at low quantities under the form of Ark. He couldn't figure out the process completely, it was probably something he'd have to leave to his ‘instincts’. As illogical as it was, it seemed to work well enough for that fantasy science. So, it was kind of logical.

If he couldn't figure out the interior process of a Core, it meant he wouldn't be able to figure out how to fix his own, either. He rubbed his chin, thinking. His situation couldn't be something never seen before, that was illogical. Especially since both Ayn and Sol mentioned the possibility of a broken Core: this probably happened often, under the right circumstances.

Then, would one with a broken Core have no possibility of regaining its full functionalities? No, that couldn't be either, since Sol regarded his talent as brilliant, despite the clear damage done. If this wasn't an uncommon occurrence, was something seen before, and one's talent wouldn't be too affected by this damage…

“…That means, there's some definitive way to fix my Core, right?”

Speaking just loud enough for those outside to hear him, Sol pushed the door open, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Ding-ding! I was expecting ya ta blow somethin' up while figurin' out fer yerself how ta do it, but I guess yer more coolheaded than I thought.”

“That's kind of, my selling point. Sorry to disappoint you, Sir.”

Compared to their last meeting, the atmosphere between the two was a lot less tense, a sense of mutual understanding coating their words. By now they both had realized they were on the same wavelength, and that their interests matched. Which made talking a lot easier.

“You want to polish my talent, right? Then, I'm guessing the first step in making you acknowledge it properly, is to fix my Core by myself. Figure out how it works, how to access it, how to fix it, and how to properly flow Ark. That's just the basic steps, right?”

“Well, yes, that's a way, but… Ta be honest, I kinda expected ya ta take another route.”

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“That being…?”

A hint of curiosity was in the young boy's voice, intrigued at what Sol might be aiming at.

“Well… It's no fun if I just tell ya, now, is it?”

“Whu- You scammer! Don't hook me in, and then leave me hanging!”

“Gyahahahahah! Yer a little naive fish, aintcha? Shouldn’ta bit the bait!”

If bickering with Ayn felt like talking to a brother around the same age as him, then talking with Sol felt like talking with an older, respected cousin, who liked to mess around with his younger cousin. Still, he knew that it was just part of the facade the man was putting up.

Drowning out his own laugh, Arthur quickly started thinking again, about what Sol could be wanting him to do. If he wasn't going to spell it outright, he was going to at least squeeze out a hint from him.

“So… What should I do, to find that alternate route?”

“Ta find that route, huh… I like yer thinkin'. First of all, get a good grasp on how Archê, as a whole, works. Not just Archê, or Ark, or Cores, but all of it. Grasp how ta use Archê properly, watch and learn how ta use magic effectively. That'll be yer stepping stone.”

“Stepping stone, huh? You better hope it doesn't bring me too high.”

Getting a grasp on Archê as a whole might be a good idea, but so long as his Core didn't work properly, he wouldn't be able to use magic properly, he figured. Though it was true he hadn't seen any magic in action yet, apart from Obedience Seals and ‘flowing’ Ark, he guessed he'd need refined Ark to properly use any kind of magic.

Still, observing magic from up close, figuring out how it worked, that would be incredibly beneficial. His Archê-feeling capabilities were definitely top notch, he understood that, even if he had no one to compare himself to. The only problem would be finding a way to observe magic and the usage of Archê.

“But, uh, how would I watch someone use magic? Do I just, go up to random guards, and… Ask them…? Do I need to get whaled on…?”

Sol shot him a perplexed look, before bursting out laughing like he often did.

“Hah, yer right, brat! Ya wouldn't have many chances locked up in here, huh?”

He’d rub his chin while thinking, looking up at the ceiling. Behind him, Grimm sighed, already knowing his superior was devising some plan that the higher ups wouldn't like. Well, his higher ups anyways, there weren't many people that could go against Sol in that Empire.

“How ‘bout this… I'll give ya a ‘free trial’ of enlistment in our military academy. Ya won't attend any proper trainings or lectures, but ya'll be able ta spectate spars, duels and official matches, and even fight yerself when ya feel good ‘nough ‘bout yer capabilities.”

“Free trial… So, I'm getting promoted from prisoner to officer prisoner!”

“Gyahahahahah! Somethin' like that! I'll give ya… Six months. Ya won't need ta work in the prison either for this period, but at the end, if I'm not satisfied with yer results… Ya can guess where this is going, right?”

Six months. He had six months, to earn back his freedom. On one hand, that felt like an incredibly long time, but on the other, he only had six months to prove his worth, and the brilliance of his talent. Sol grinned, leaning towards his bed while sitting on a chair. He extended his hand.

“So? Are ya down fer this, my lump of potential?”

“I'm betting my entire life on this. Sure I am.”

With no hesitation, he shook his hand.

—

Fssst…

Za-zap!

Sparks flew everywhere in the small, boxing ring-like arena, the impact of energy clashing against energy lighting up the dark room. In the two corners stood two young men, no older than teenagers but not yet having reached full maturity, with bruised and battered limbs and faces. The room was large but empty, pretty much a warehouse turned into an arena, with people watching from every angle. Mostly trainees, like the two duking it out in the ring.

And in a corner, trying not to catch any attention, was Arthur. Apparently, that was Sol's idea of watching magic up close- not a lecture or anything of the sort, but rather, watching magic dogfights and duels in this shabby arena. Although he would have preferred a more refined method of teaching, beggars can't be choosers. So, he sat tight, watching and analyzing the two fight.

Although he had accepted the existence of magic, up until that moment, it seemed something logical and realistic, his only experience being with feeling Archê, and flowing it through his body. In a way, those were similar to breathing techniques and pre-match routines certain athletes had, still in the realm of possibility.

However, seeing actual magic being cast in person, had shattered any remaining belief he had, that this world would follow any semblance of the logic he knew. There was a sense, a method to using those surreal abilities, but even if he understood that, it still felt just that: surreal.

BZZZT!

An arc of blue electricity traced the air, propelled by the hands of one of the warriors in the ring, a young boy with long hair. Moments before it did, light ran up his arm and towards his hand, as if underneath his skin wires and paths ran to create a circuit, to channel that energy known as Ark. It seemed similar to when his joints glowed with energy, so perhaps his thought process wasn't too far fetched from the truth.

The electricity clashed in mid air with a conjured bolt of fire, somehow, the two spells cancelling each other out. Without a doubt, this all would have made no sense in the world he knew. However, this wasn't the world he knew. Without even realizing it, an almost fanatic smile creeped onto his face.

“The Archê is refined inside the core… Then it's turned into Ark… The Ark flows into those shifting ‘circuits’, and like a taser, or an electric lighter, different spells come out… Does it have to do with the shape of the circuits…? Does the length increase a spell's strength, or is it purely to have differing patterns…? Maybe both…? No, the longer the pathway, the more the energy should get diluted… But I shouldn't apply my logic to this world…”

Mumbling to himself like a madman, he found himself soon entranced by the battle of magic. Despite being a self-called man of logic, what he loved most were things able to smash his life apart, fill that boredom-clad life with fun and pleasure. And right now, there wasn't anything more pleasurable for him, than to study a never seen before source of energy.

Well, to him it was never seen before, but to the other spectators, that level of spellcasting was decent at best. Still, he found it quite fun to observe, analyze, and deduct how Archê worked from that fight. At the moment, he was too interested in watching it in practice to follow his instincts and watch how their Archê moved in detail, but he'd have more opportunities, surely.

—

And thus, the first week of his six months passed like this, with Arthur becoming a magic dogfights fanatic, quickly gaining the nickname of ‘Archê-Obsessed Elf’.

On the seventh day, watching from his usual corner, a figure, their face covered by a dirty hood, approached him. Their stance was relaxed, but being covered by both the dark environment of the room and the shadow of the hood, Arthur didn't feel too sure about engaging them in conversation. Nevertheless, they engaged first.

“Yo! You got sent here to study, too?”

Surprisingly, the voice, albeit a rough one, was feminine, and carrying no malice, seemingly. Pulling down her hood, a mass of white hair, clearer than even his, would come cascading down, alongside revealing a young-looking face. She couldn't have been too much older than him, and judging from her words, she was probably in a similar situation as him.

“Uh, yeah, something like that.”

A childish suddenly appearing on her face, she jolted forward, grabbing Arthur’s hand and forcefully shaking it, dazing the boy slightly.

“My name’s Irene, what about ya? My mom and pops sent me here to get better with my Gift, what about ya? Did ya get sent here by your mom and pops too? Are ya a soldier? A trainee? A spy? Hehe, if you are, you better square up!”

It seems he had forgot, thanks to both his and Ayn’s maturity, despite external appearances- children, be they soldiers, mages, or whatnot,

were children, in the end. And this childish outburst of energy was more than enough to daze the poor elf.