For a moment Lyam couldn't tell if Aveline was serious. “Why would I fight in that arena?” he said.

“Because you being a dust wielder raises your chance of victory.”

Lyam frowned deeper. “Wait, but that still doesn't answer my question. Why would I fight there?”

“Don't you want to free your sister from limbo?” Aveline said.

“How is me fighting in the arena going to help?”

Aveline stared at him for a moment before sighing, exasperated. “Do you know how magic works?” she asked.

“Through some spell or skill, right?”

“Wrong.” She shook her head. “Spells or skills help us apply magic. But what is it that allows a magic user to summon that magic in the first place? Life dust is present in every living thing, why is it that you can only use it as a weapon when you become a wielder, huh?”

Lyam paused before saying, “Why?”

“Because all magic is trade,” Aveline said. “When you let the dust bloom merge with yourself, you make a pact with the system, allowing it to change your soul. When your soul manages to endure all changes, the system deems it worthy.”

The boy scratched his chin. “And when you aren’t worthy you fall into limbo?”

Aveline pursed her lips. “No, mostly when the merge fails, people die fairly quickly. The reason your sister is in limbo is because we have delayed her death. But this is what it all boils down to.” She put a finger on his chest. “An unworthy soul can't handle magic.”

Lyam narrowed his eyes. “This still doesn't explain how me fighting in the arena is going to help us save Emma.”

“Because that’s the only way we can get to someone capable of performing soul magic,” she said, “shapecrafting and dust wielding are very basic arts. Neither you nor I can play with a live soul, let alone a soul trapped in limbo. Your sister is improperly merged with the dust bloom, if we try to separate her from the flower, we might end up killing her. The only person who is capable of doing that kind of magic is Norben himself.”

“Then…can't we just request him to do it for us?”

Aveline scoffed. “If it was that easy I would've taken your sister to him right away instead of creating the hollow sapling.” She shook her head. “Norben only sees those who win the tournament in Norben's playground.”

###

Lyam didn't sleep that night. Thoughts of the arena, the Crater and Emma's condition kept bugging him. And each time he pushed those thoughts away the image of the short man flashed in his mind. The pool of blood, the squashed head, a grim defeat. And worst of all was the noise surrounding these thoughts–the sound of applause and the thunderous cheering.

The boy just sat in Aveline’s library, watching the dark forest outside the window. Hours passed and night turned to morning. The door opened and Aveline peered in. “Time for breakfast,” she said.

Lyam followed the woman into the kitchen and joined her at the table. They were having the same thing they had the other day. He remained quiet as he ate.

Aveline noticed the puffy bags under his eyes. “I thought I told you about taking care of yourself,” she said, “magic doesn't give you an excuse to be careless about your health.”

“I was thinking,” the boy said quietly.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“About?”

“Other ways in which Emma can be saved.”

Aveline took a sip of water and looked at him. “If there was another way, I would've told you.”

Lyam looked back at her, holding her with his gaze. Then he asked her something he had been meaning since the other night. “Why are you helping me? You saved me from the wolf. You made that sapling for Emma. You didn't have to do any of that. Yet here we are…just…why?”

Aveline didn't flinch from the question. Her gaze remained steady. She steepled her fingers on the table and regarded him sincerely. “I just want to see how this ends.”

Lyam frowned. Aveline kept going.

“I already told you that I'm a miserable novice. I wanted to learn more magic but the Great Cleansing took that chance from me. I never got to see what these arts are capable of,” she said. “I want to see how far we can go with this aim. I want to see if we can really reverse something like death with magic. I'm curious, Lyam. That's why I'm helping you.”

Lyam's eye twitched a bit as he kept watching her, trying to find a lie in her statement. He couldn't. So he just nodded. “Then I'm ready. I've already decided to defy nature. I don't mind defying other people in a fight.”

###

They headed out into the forest after breakfast. Aveline was leading the way as always. “I have a question,” Lyam said.

“I'm listening.”

“If all magic is trade and if wielders trade their soul to get strong, then what do the shapecrafters trade?”

“The same thing,” Aveline said. “We let our souls be modified in a similar way. But we don't eat any flowers or get a system to quantify our abilities.”

Lyam nodded, remembering the night when his village burned. He remembered the woman who could summon fire with her whip. “How do you do it? Controlling the elements like that?” Lyam asked.

“When our soul is modified we are blessed with some gifts. One of those gifts is being able to see and control the shape of elements at will.”

“Shape?”

Aveline nodded. “Every element in this world has an inherent shape--think of it like the skeleton that gives shape to our bodies. Every crafter has an affinity for a specific element. Because of those gifts we are bestowed with, we can change the shape of those elements at will. It also depends on the skill of an individual shapecrafter, of course.” She summoned a spirit orb by making a fist. “Because I'm a novice, I can't make stronger barriers than this. Or do more than make barriers.”

“What about the hollow sapling?”

“It's just a slightly complex barrier shaped like a plant. Since I can control the permeability of what I create, its not very difficult to make a structure that traps life dust and sends it into another life source.” She shrugged. “It looks more interesting than just a blob of spirit, I know. But it's based on the same principle. If I was any better at crafting, I wouldn't have to rely on trinkets like shape stones. But one must find ways to survive in a forest alone.” She sighed.

“I think you are doing really well on your own,” Lyam said.

“That's sweet of you to say.”

Lyam grinned at her ruefully. He was starting to learn that maybe Aveline wasn't too good at accepting compliments. “So,” he said, “if you don't eat any flowers or get a system, how exactly does your soul change?”

“I can't tell you,” Aveline said gravely. “I'm afraid that's part of the pact we make before we get our powers. We aren't allowed to reveal the nature of our soul.”

“W-What happens if you do tell someone?”

“I'll die. Right where I stand.”

Lyam swallowed hard. He remained quiet the rest of the way.

They arrived at the edge of a ravine. Lyam looked down at the flowing water down below. “The tournament begins in sixty days,” Aveline said as she set her satchel on her lap before sitting down on the edge, legs dangling freely. “At your current tier, you'll get stomped like a bug by the other competitors.”

Lyam pursed his lips. “So…how do I get strong?”

She pulled out a black leather tome from her satchel and flipped through the pages. “One way to do it is to master the skills that your class offers.”

“And how do I do that?” Lyam crouched next to her.

“As far as I know, wielders level up by pushing the limits of their focus to unlock the wisdom behind every skill,” Aveline read from her notes in the book. “The process involves intense meditation and mental visualization of one's powers–”

“Um, this sounds like a long process…”

“Indeed.” Aveline nodded. “We'll have to cheat a little bit.”

“We can?”

She closed the book with a thump. “We are racing against time, it's the only way.”