Sery followed Taine to a farmer’s field outside Eterna, one he had arranged to borrow in order to practice for the Mage Games. This early in the spring, no crops had yet been planted, so that – with careful preparation and soil restoration afterwards – he could make a single large living creation in each plot without disrupting the normal growing cycle.

They stopped at the edge of the first plot, a large expanse of tilled soil bordered by a simple wooden fence. On the far side was an apple orchard, trees still bare of fruit.

“If you could wait here,” Taine requested. “I’m afraid there will be a lot of me just walking around before anything magical happens.”

Sery nodded, well aware of the literal groundwork that went into preparing for a life magic creation. While the healer-temporarily-turned-gardener walked the field and scattered seeds in meticulous patterns, Sery settled herself against the fence and pulled out a copy of the official handbook of the Mage Games.

The front section of the handbook briefly described the history of the Games and outlined the common rules that were enforced during all events and in between: no outside help from non-competitors, no sabotaging other competitors, no purposefully losing either for personal gain or to help a guildmate.

The second section listed and described each of the individual events, over a hundred competitions of magical strength and skill.

Resisting the urge to get lost in all the interesting details and clever rules, Sery turned directly to the section that described the Bloom competition Taine was practicing for.

Bloom

Each competitor will be given a standard plot of bare soil in which to grow an artistic creation. The competition consists of two periods. During the preparation stage, the competitor as well as two assistants will be allowed to move around the assigned plot and make preparations such as planting and fertilizing. Ungerminated plant seeds only are permitted; no live plants may be used. Manual tools may be used during this stage, but no magic or magic-powered devices are allowed during preparation. Non-living decorations, such as stones, may also be brought onto the plot. By the end of the preparation stage, all assistants must be off the plot; failure to clear the grounds in time will result in disqualification.

During the growing stage, magic from the competitors is allowed. The competitors have one hour to create an artistic piece consisting of live plants. During this time, competitors are free to continue moving on their plots and to use further manual tools, such as pruning shears, if desired.

At the end of the growing stage, the competitors will exit and each creation will be judged individually by a panel of six judges. The creations will be scored in three categories, each scored out of 100:

Difficulty: The amount of biomass as well as the speed of growth of individual plant species will be considered; for instance, full-sized trees are considered one of the hardest features to include. A diverse variety of species with different growing needs will also increase the difficulty of the piece. Precision growth in patterns will also be considered in this score.

Health: The plants will be examined for evidence of malformations as well as unbalanced growth that would weaken their long-term growth. The suitability of their environment, such as sun levels, for healthy long-term growth will also be considered.

Harmony: This score factors in components such as the visual cohesion of the piece, complementary plant species, proper spacing, and decorative elements of the piece.

Of the six scores assigned, the lowest and highest will be discarded and the mean of the remaining four will be the competitor’s final score. In the event of a tied score, the competitor with the higher Harmony score will be declared the winner; in the event of a tied Harmony score, the Health score will decide. Should all three subcategories be tied, the judges will vote on the winner. Should this still result in a tie, the finalists will compete again two weeks following the original competition, with a five-judge panel instead of six.

Sery shook her head at the convoluted scoring system. Why did they not just have a five-judge panel to begin with?

She shrugged; it was probably irrelevant most of the time; she could not imagine exact ties of that nature were common.

She looked out to where Tain was still walking around and scattering seeds, looking forward to seeing the living art he was about to create.

Sery’s sense of ennas told her a mage was approaching, around three stars in strength. She expected to see the growth mage who helped tend the crops in this area. Instead, a shiver of unease ran through her at seeing Kiera approach. The warrior-mage had been almost entirely absent from Eterna for months; what was she doing here now?

Sery looked over to Taine. The healer could certainly see both her and Kiera if he happened to look in that direction, but he would not be close enough to hear conversation or physically intervene.

Sery straightened her shoulders. She did not need to cower; she had every right to be where she was. She could weather Kiera’s poorly hidden dislike. The female warrior was not about to hit Sery in broad daylight, despite her body language giving Sery chilling echoes of Dreible in a foul mood.

Kiera leaned against the fence a section away from where Sery stood, ostensibly watching Taine’s progress. The healer either was unaware of or ignoring the conflict Kiera was having in the guild at the moment, giving her a cheerful wave before getting back to work.

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Kiera waved back. Eyes still on Taine’s distant figure, she said, “So. Tagging along after Taine today, I see.”

There was an insult in those words, an insinuation that Sery was a useless hanger-on rather than an actual help to those she worked with. Sery pressed her lips together and remained silent.

When the dig failed to provoke a reply, Kiera tried again. “You planning on tagging along to the Games? You’ll get everyone disqualified just by being there.”

The words reminded Sery of her magic emittance. Consciously checking the automatic process, she saw that it had fallen below her usual levels as a result of Kiera’s intimidation. Frustrated with herself, she plunged it down to zero, thickening the walls of her enna until nothing escaped. She was aware that to others, it felt like a sudden chill, and was far more noticeable than the fluctuations caused by her mood. “I can keep my magic to myself,” she answered Kiera, imitating Foria at her most neutral with difficult customers.

Taine looked over, concerned. “Everything all right over there?” he called.

Sery waved, wearing a tight smile that would probably be convincing enough at a distance. “Just practicing!” she called back.

Kiera looked unsettled at the sudden dip in ambient magic, then gathered herself with a sneer. “And how long can you keep that little trick up for?”

The break in hostility gave Sery some unexpected insight. Kiera was no more confident than Sery, except the warrior-mage hid her uneasiness under a mask of hostility.

The realization calmed her. “As long as I need to,” Sery answered, no longer caring about whatever verbal barbs might come her way.

Kiera’s glare broke under Sery’s calm stare. The taller woman stormed away, taking the road away from Eterna rather than towards it.

Sery’s portable communication crystal vibrated. She pulled it out of her pocket to see Veltyen’s worried face.

“Sery? Are you okay?”

“…Yes,” Sery answered quizzically.

“I felt your magic shut down. What happened?”

Sery’s eyes widened. Veltyen was still at the construction site while Sery was a good ways out of town. It appeared that he was as sensitive to her magic as she was to his.

She did not want to tell him about the trouble with Kiera; the way that the woman had suddenly abandoned their long friendship was something that hurt him in a way he did not talk about, instead putting on a mask of cheer that worried Sery whenever she saw it.

She offered Veltyen the same justification she had given Taine. “I’m practicing for the Games.”

Veltyen’s expression cleared, then becamse rueful. “I didn’t realize how much I’ve gotten used to feeling you around, even when you’re a league or two away.”

With a bit of uncertainty, Sery released her tight grip on her magic. Within a few seconds, she saw his shoulders relax, though his expression was still rueful.

“Yup, way too used to it. Don’t let me interrupt your practice with Taine; I’ll see you this evening.”

Sery put her communication crystal away as Taine quietly came up to the fence, staring after Kiera’s retreating figure with a regretful expression.

Instead of commenting on the warrior-mage’s behaviour, he said, “I’m proud of you.”

Sery looked at the healer questioningly.

Taine smiled. “You’ve grown by leaps and bounds since you came to Eterna. It’s easier for me to see because I don’t see you for weeks at a time. You’re a credit to our guild.”

Sery could feel herself blushing at the open praise. She shook her head, sure she had not done anything exceptional.

Taine deftly changed the subject. “Speaking of growing, ready to see what I’ve come up with?” he asked, gesturing to the field.

Sery nodded.

Taine turned to face the bare soil and closed his eyes in concentration.

Sery gasped as the multitude of seeds he had scattered split and began to grow. The growth was not instantaneous, but fast enough that she could see the plants lengthen as she stared.

Taine opened his eyes after ten minutes. “Hmm. Something that will require more power would be more suitable."

Sery stared at the transformed field. The bare soil was now covered in golden wheat that grew in varying heights that created the effect of a wave-topped ocean. In the centre of the field grew an enormous squash, vines sprouting from the top that simulated a great whale surfacing and exhaling a plume of mist.

Seemingly unrelated to the tableau, the trees in the orchard were now heavy with ripe, red apples.

“Shall we go, then?” Taine asked, leading the way towards the farmer’s home.

Sery belatedly fell into step. “What are you going to do with that?” she asked, gesturing at the living artwork.

“I’ll let them know that field is ready for harvest, then come back in a few days to restore the soil so they can still have a normal planting season. I chose to go with crop plants only so that they could have a small reward for letting me use their field.”

Sery stared wistfully at the beautiful ocean of grain. It seemed a shame to destroy such wonderful work, but there was no way to preserve it as it was, even if it were not harvested. Perhaps that was part of what made the scene so compelling.

***

Veltyen made his way home after work was over for the day. Instead of eating at the guildhall, he picked up dinner for himself and Sery at a market vendor.

He climbed the stairs that led to the top of the apartment complex. Sery appeared in her doorway as he crested the steps; she always knew where he was.

The routine was familiar; he unpacked the food containers as Sery gathered plates and cutlery. Trying to be subtle about it, Veltyen examined Sery as she walked, looking for any signs that she was hurt or in distress.

But no, she was fine. He was completely overreacting to a simple exercise in magic, one he would have to get used to if he wanted any chance of success during the Games.

He had no idea when he had become so attuned to Sery’s magic that he noticed it even from leagues away. The last time she had approached him without his notice was probably back around Longnight, when she had had that scare in Lettia.

They ate in companionable silence. Perhaps others might find it strange, but he and Sery could spend hours without talking, often while she read and he maintained his weapons and gear, content to just be in each other’s company.

Veltyen waited for Sery to finish her food and helped clean up before sitting her down on the couch. He sat across from her on the coffee table, both her hands held in his.

She looked at him with an open expression, ready to go along with his unusual behaviour.

“Can you close down your magic again?” he asked.

Sery nodded. Less than a second later, the ambient magic plunged. His grip tightened, instincts screaming that something was wrong.

But no, he could see Sery right in front of him, whole and unharmed.

Some of his agitation must have shown in his expression because Sery’s gaze began to drift downwards, avoiding direct eye contact. She was considerably more confident than when she had first come to Eterna, but absent fear, there was true gentleness in her nature; she would avoid confrontation where she could.

Gently, he tilted her chin up until she met his eyes again. “Sorry,” he apologized, “but I need to see you’re okay right now.”

A slow blush rose in Sery’s cheeks but she held his gaze for long minutes as his senses reconciled the lack of ambient magic with the fact that she was perfectly fine.

Gradually, he calmed down, the visceral sense of wrongness fading as his senses adjusted to the new level of magic.

***

Sery did not move, captured by the clear gray of Veltyen’s eyes. He looked at her with such intensity that she had instinctively looked away, but a single gentle touch and his quiet request denied her that escape.

She felt as she did when Evodie’s clothing made Veltyen stop and stare, only more intense. Her skin tingled; again, she could not decide whether the sensation was unpleasant or enjoyable.

A short eternity later, Veltyen relaxed and moved to sit beside her on the couch. A slight shiver ran through her at the release of tension.

“Cold?” Without waiting for an answer, Veltyen wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The sensation, usually comforting, set off waves of tingles along her skin.

Sery leaned against his chest and slowly, ever so slowly, calmed down.