Talia sat on a bench before the stele to the dead, staring up to where it threatened to pierce the artificial overhang above.

She felt…drained. Like a pressed fruit, squeezed until there was nothing left but pulp and rind.

When the effects of the norroot had finally faded away, the jumble of mixed emotions had come flooding back in. She’d cried. Sobbed. Until she felt empty of anything of substance.

Lazarus hadn’t held her, or even spoken. He’d simply sat there, a commiserating, guiding force. Allowing her the space she needed to slot the mess back into its box.

Much of what they’d discussed was muddled in her mind now. Well, not muddled, but dulled. Like the snippets of a lullaby she could only remember the melody to, but not the words. The memories—both those she’d discussed and those of the conversation itself—felt like she was looking at them through a series of thick glass panes.

The feeling was a familiar one from when Talia had first used the plant to ‘deal’ with the loss of her parents and she knew that the dulling would…equalize. Eventually. She’d just have to ensure that by the time it did, she was ready to better shoulder the burden.

But for now, just the thought of talking about how she felt left her feeling raw and worn. At the same time, her routine had been disrupted, and she didn’t have the energy to pick up where she’d left off.

Usually, at this point in the day, she’d have gotten through her Imagery exercises with Osra and would be well on her way through another trek into the city.

I could still go, not like anything is forcing me to stay on the same schedule.

But she didn’t move. She just sat there, staring at the newest names to adorn the stele.

Lazarus is right—because of course he is, he’s two hundred years old—guilt doesn’t serve me. I did what I could, and so did they.

That did not mean forgetting the dead, though. It simply meant allowing them the honour of their own choices.

If I’d been stronger, or more careful…maybe they wouldn’t have had to make them.

Talia shook her head ruefully.

Annnd…there’s the logical fallacy he warned about, right on time.

Talia’s head pounded something fierce, and her throat felt like she’d swallowed a rock only to have it get caught halfway through. Putting thoughts of strength and responsibility out of her mind, she closed her eyes and did her best to clear her mind, focusing solely on the couplet of mantras that she and the healer had worked on together.

I am not my thoughts.

In, through the nose.

They do not control me.

Out, through the mouth.

I am not responsible for what I have not done.

In, through the nose.

I am only responsible for my own actions.

Out, through the mouth.

The exercise was…difficult. As Lazarus had said, cycling, in itself, did not translate to ease of meditation. The two practices were connected but different. But Talia tried her best, if only because she wasn’t sure what else she should do.

Eventually, she reached an in-between state, half caught in her thoughts, half preoccupied with banishing them. Time seemed to slip by her as she sat still, eyes closed, and just was.

----------------------------------------

In the end, Talia’s mindsense was the one to break her out of her tenuous equilibrium. The passive effect let her know of Osra’s approach before the girl even spoke.

“Talia?”

“Hey.”

“You alright? You didn’t show up for—ah,” Osra started before catching herself, looking around and leaning in to whisper, “You-know-what practice.”

Talia shrugged, not quite sure what to say to her friend. She settled on a variation of the truth.

“I got cornered by Lazarus, sorry. I should’ve told him to send someone to warn you.”

Understanding flickered across Osra’s caramel features.

“Oh—uh…well that’s…good?”

“It was, actually,” Talia answered after a moment, “At least I’m pretty sure it was. I’m not quite sure how I feel about it at the moment. But he made a lot of good points.”

Osra’s brows drew downward before shooting back up. Her face screwed itself into a few different directions, as if she was a child doing mental math for the first time.

Talia watched out of the corner of her eye, feeling a thread of amusement worm its way into her mind.

“Oh,” Osra finally exclaimed her cheeks burning, “Oooh—I thought—I actually don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I thought you meant he was treating your arm or something.”

Talia couldn’t help it. The giggle slipped out of her before she could stop it.

Then she remembered that they had discussed her arm—specifically that she wouldn’t be using it ever again—and her face fell.

“Yea, well, you were half right.”

Whatever it was that flickered across Talia’s face made Osra wince. The young mage opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Talia looked back at the stele.

I don’t need pity.

“He said my arm is probably never going to be fixed.”

Osra gasped. “I-I’m sorry, Talia, I can’t imagine—”

Talia shrugged again, downplaying it.

“It is what it is. We…talked through it. Besides, if our training pays off, it won’t matter right?”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The grin Talia put on felt half-hearted, even to her. Part of her still screamed at the unfairness of it all. At the sheer wrongness of it. ‘You are not whole’ it hissed.

But the words had less power now. It still hurt, but it was a start.

“Still—” Osra muttered, “I can’t imagine…”

Talia bobbed her head slowly, unable to meet her friend’s eyes.

I am not my body. I am the mind behind it.

“I—ah—noticed Battlemaster Darkclaw asking for volunteers to leave the haven,” Osra said abruptly, “So at least there’s that, right? You finally get the help you were asking for.”

Talia shook her head slowly, recognizing the subject change for what it was.

“Not really. It’s for a hunting trip. We’re running low on food. Hope you enjoy chellicoi stew, or whatever you do with bug meat,” Talia half-heartedly joked, “But I guess Calisto did say that she’d try to get another team together to find a way into the upper reaches…so—there’s that.”

The worry was clearly etched on Osra’s face now, stark and obvious.

“That’s...good,” the young mage threw out before falling silent.

The pair sat awkwardly, each lost in their own way. Osra shifted uncomfortably, tugging at the sleeves of her robes and throwing concerned glances toward her friend.

Talia barely noticed, lost in her own thoughts, staring past the stele at something that wasn’t quite there, feeling the numb emptiness creep closer. Without the toxic blend of fear-fuelled anger to drive her, she felt listless. Rationally, she knew that it was a side-effect of the norroot, and that she’d likely feel better in a day or two, but…

The feeling of Osra’s hand slipping woodenly into hers dragged her out of her head, and she looked at the other girl, surprised.

Osra did not touch others lightly, even with her omnipresent, black leather gloves as a barrier.

Talia’s friend quirked a mischievous smile at her, standing and tugging the arcanist upward.

“Come on, since you’re not out in the city, there’s something I've been wanting to show you. I think you’ll like it. I’ve been waiting for the right moment, but this should cheer you up.”

Talia’s first instinct was to refuse. The emptiness begged her to just…sit and stew.

One look at the earnestness on Osra’s cherubic face was all it took to get Talia to go along.

Quirking an eyebrow and feigning curiosity took far too much effort.

We knew this would happen, Tals. Focus on the present. Let the moment pass.

Trying to muster up some semblance of excitement, Talia allowed herself to be dragged across the haven, leaving the front gate and the stele behind. They weaved their way through the parked and mothballed wagons, past the pen where tunnel drakes lounged lazily. Instead of heading toward one of the barracks, or the mess, Osra veered left, avoiding both in favour of a crack between two of the buildings.

As the pair pressed further in, the intentionality of old stonework gave way to the raggedness of a natural cave system, one that, unless Talia missed her guess, had been sealed off for a long time before the haven’s builders had opened it to the world.

Talia’s dark vision talent allowed her to see as if under the light of an arcano-sun as they snaked their way past stalagmites that had melded into their stalactites, creating a gallery of columns, and the illusion of some kind of natural labyrinth.

“What is this place?” Talia finally asked, beginning to wonder just where her friend was leading her. Absently, she noticed the drone of Karzurkul’s grand waterfall fade even further.

Osra chuckled, hesitantly squeezing her hand.

“Oh so now you’re curious. Well, I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” Osra teased with a chuckle. “And watch your step, it gets wet further in.”

Wet? Oh, she’s right, I can hear the water.

Soon enough, Osra was dragging her through a pool of slowly running water that barely came up to her ankles, and the columns of stalagmites receded to the edges of the cavern. They trudged forward a little ways longer until they came to a seemingly dead end.

Osra let go of Talia’s hand and stopped in front of a little crack in the wall, just large enough for a sapient to squeeze through.

“Wait here, and don't come in until I call you,” the other girl said with a grin.

Then, after making sure her auburn hair was tucked into her cloak hood, Osra slipped through the crack.

What could possibly—

Talia froze as a haunting sound began to echo lightly from the cave, like the tinkle of crystals mixed with a thread of chimes. It was otherworldly. Almost like music made from shards of broken glass.

But whatever she was doing, Osra wasn’t done.

The sound rose in pitch, swiftly shifting from haunting to melodic in a split instant. And then light bloomed from the crack, a clear, unwavering blue from a small manalamp.

Talia frowned, her interest well and truly piqued.

“Alright, come on in,” Osra called, her voice muffled.

Talia slipped through the crack in the wall, her armour scrapping against wet rock.

What greeted her on the other side was a sight from another world.

Osra stood with her boots off in the centre of a shallow pool of slowly rippling water, arcano-lamp held in one hand. The chamber itself was circular and small, about a quarter of the length of one of the wagons in diameter. Not an unusual formation in the least.

What truly took Talia’s breath away were the walls.

All around them, large beryllium crystals—the smallest of which were the width of Talia’s head—glowed. Light bounced off the octagonal shapes of giant bars of aquamarine and emerald, canvassing the entire space in shifting rays of green and blue.

But that wasn't all.

Now that she was in the secluded alcove, it almost felt like she was bathing in the ethereal melody of vibrating crystals, different frequencies harmonizing in tandem to create a song she had never heard the like of.

And still, somehow, there was more.

All across the crystal facets, shapes and pictures had been carved, with details so fine Talia would have sworn to anybody who asked that the gems had simply taken that shape of their own accord. Her heartstrings twinged as she recognized familiar faces, their silhouettes locked in dynamic poses, fighting off an enemy that was never depicted. Interspersed between each scene were faceless figures, cowled and androgynous, arms raised and bodies covered in geometric shapes.

Osra’s interpretation of the Ancients, no doubt.

It’s…beautiful.

Talia must’ve said the words aloud, as Osra visibly blushed, turning her head up to stare bashfully at the ceiling and swinging her arms.

Rays of light rippled across the cave at the movement.

“What’s that sound?” Talia asked, enraptured, “How did you get the vibrations to match so well? No, strike that, how long have you been working on this? Actually—no how did you even find this place?”

Osra giggled.

“See, told you I would cheer you up. Come, sit with me, I still have more I want to show you.”

The stone shaper gestured at a small break in the aquamarine that she appeared to have carved out so it would still appear natural. It was just wide enough to fit two people.

The pair chuckled as they squeezed into the spot.

“There’s more?” Talia asked incredulously.

Osra shrugged.

“Er—Sort of,” she hedged, “I found this place after I had my talk with Lazarus. He guided me here, actually. Don’t ask me how he knew where to look. As for the sound…” She blushed. “Promise not to laugh?”

Talia shifted around as best she could, her eyebrows halfway up her forehead.

“After seeing this? Not a chance I'm laughing. This is amazing.”

“It’s my talent. My first one, anyway. Unlike some mages, we don’t all get useful things like increased healing or dark vision.”

Talia’s raised eyebrows quickly turned into a frown.

“Power over frequencies, or something? That’s more of an ability in its own right, if not a third affinity. I can think of plenty of ways that could be used. Why would you call it useless?”

“Oh, it’s not an ability or anything close to a third affinity. I can’t do much more than this, and it works best with gems and crystals. When I tried it with metal or stone…” Osra shuddered beside her. “The sound was awful.”

Talia tsked sympathetically.

If this is as strong as it gets…

“Oh. Ok, yea, I can see why you’d call it useless. It certainly isn’t practical. Though it is beautiful,” Talia commiserated, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like it.”

Osra smiled, tossing the manalamp into the pool in the centre of the cave and watching the light swirl.

“Thanks, but that’s not the only reason I wanted to show you this.”

Placing her hand on one of the beryllium pillars, Osra pulled a glob of liquid crystal into her palm, setting the fist-sized chunk into the water. When she retracted it, the once-crystal was solid once more, but it almost looked like…

“Clay?”

“Watch,” Osra whispered.

The stone shaper closed her eyes, and Talia watched as the clay shaped itself into a swirling spiral of greenish putty. When she was satisfied, Osra opened her eyes, glaring at the material with intense focus. Water began streaming from the surface of the spiral as it crackled and compressed.

In less than a minute, Osra held a crystalline spiral of aquamarine in her hand.

Talia grinned.

“Damn, that was awesome. Sometimes I wish I had your skillset. All I can really do with mine is break things.”

Osra met Talia’s gaze with a glint in her eye.

“Who said you can’t try it yourself?” she asked, “All you have to do is make sure you keep control of your kinetics and don’t shatter all these beautiful crystals. Should be easy enough, right?”