“Mmn! Wow, that’s great, have you made any refinements lately?”
“Oi, you know there’s no magic talk allowed here.” A lazy, but commanding shout echoed through one of the back rooms of the Assembly Hall. The admiring girl shut her mouth with a clack upon hearing the admonishment. Yalla was fortunate in that the Disciple who watched over this portion of the Assembly Hall cared little for actually doing her assigned administrative duties.
“There can't be mistakes like that when forming the spell shape. Focus the mind completely on what’s about to be done.” A late to middle aged woman wiped a small amount of sweat off her brow before setting two now-identical tomes to the side. She held out her hands. “One more, and we can be finished for the day.”
“Right!” Yalla nodded and sped off, a bundle of energy.
Watching the girl’s unusually dark braids bounce about, Joanne sighed within her mind. She didn't dare be anything less than perfect in front of the girl. Joanne worried over what would happen if she lacked a firm foundation in her life, Yalla was just too flighty to be left alone.
She had no culpability in that, it was just a result of her upbringing, or rather, her lack of one. Joanne used to frequently wish she’d been a more talented mage, so that this life of serving the Church had only been an option, instead of mandatory. Looking at Yalla’s life, she could no longer wish for such things in good conscience. At 8 years of age the bubbly girl’s talent for magic began to blossom, and before 9 she was cast out.
When Yalla told Joanne the story, there were no tears, nothing other than brightness in her voice. It only ended up a tale of adventure, coming up with spells to help her find food, to shield against the rain, and many other simple tasks. Yalla couldn't cast them reliably, but blessed with an otherworldly amount of mana, trying a few more times made no difference. Somehow the little girl survived around two years on her own before the Church discovered her talent for magic and took her in.
Two years wandering on her own...certainly Yalla spoke of a few ‘friends’, but there was no one who stayed with her. For even her family to reject her after learning of her affinity for ‘demonic arts’, who could she trust? A wizard, their own kind, hardly stopped to offer her a defective mansis ring. Yalla lost it shortly after, even after she used it.
Free spirited and unbound, the Church had trouble properly applying her, so she’d been foisted upon Joanne. Antics ensued for several months before she realized Yalla’s love of learning about magic. A way to turn her nose up at the Church, and help the girl.
Joanne herself didn't have half the knack of Yalla, but in that she had time to grow up. Cautious, she lived a fairly normal life until her 30s as member of a small independent merchant caravan. Only when there were absolutely no spectators would she practice her spells, but for the majority of the time, she lived a mundane life. Living among them for so long, she even reported two mages, and the reward brought her quite a bit of popularity.
It ate away at her. Especially a man in his 40s then, journeying at the side of a young lad. His hands were scarred from repeated burns, and after observation Joanne spotted him spooking a few wild dogs with potent flame magic. For a few weeks he traveled with the caravan, helping out in the shadows, making sure everyone arrived at Corsen safely. The camaraderie they shared didn’t stop Joanne from telling the temple.
Two aurum, enough to eat for a lifetime, enough to live well for many years, enough to send a man to the battlefront. Mensk and Derriad only just began their skirmishes back then, but a battlemage capable of flame magic would be rushed to the front lines. Joanne occasionally wondered if he was still alive, that mage named Jerry—or was it Terry? What happened to that boy he was trying to protect, and why couldn't she remember the name or face of the other magic user she turned in years before that?
It took a few years, but the battlemage and foggy silhouette began to haunt her nights, and soon her days as well. Her nerves were starting to fray, but eventually found some comfort with one of the other merchants in the small caravan. His presence suppressed Joanne’s guilt, but it did not subside. After a few more years of working up the courage, she told him all as they approached Glaucen, where she turned in that long forgotten mage.
Two aurum, enough to eat for a lifetime, enough to live well for many years, enough to send a lover to work in service to the Church for life.
Joanne never wondered how Yalla’s parents abandoned her with such ease, just because of the thing called magic. She understood as well as the girl did. The difference between them being that Joanne felt in some sense it was only right she need to slave away, while Yalla should be free. At the very least she needed to teach the girl more, a service to her kind, the settlement of an unpayable debt.
In the current situation, that was Joanne’s limit. At her desk from between shelves of ledgers, she gazed disdainfully at their lazy overseer. The Disciple might have found herself frightened, had she bothered to open her eyes. Joanne’s hair greyed when turned in to the temple, and her face turned hollow. If only that, then it would merely be the face of an aging woman; her eyes on the other hand, a normal shade of brown, were swords of pure loathing. She hid it from the Disciples, she hid it from the merchants walking the halls, she hid it from the guildmasters, and most importantly she hid it from Yalla.
One day though, when the chance came to let the girl go free, Joanne would stay behind. In the face of the Church it may not mean much, but magic is not a mere ‘demonic art’. It is bending the world to your will, and with every day Joanne felt her will grow stronger.
Fostering the Flow of Life does not mean cutting off magic!
Revering Tias does not mean disdaining mages!
Convincing others wasn't a possibility, the Church acted too ruthlessly for that. The true way to protect mankind was to embrace magic. Tias wanted humans to live and stand on their own two feet, and for that there needed to be magic! The current Church needed to fall and be reborn, they were not the sole proprietors of humanity’s safety.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Joanne realized that she had been staring at the Disciple for far too long. Turning back to her desk, she lifted her head with a smile to the 14 year old girl hopping over with a large ledger in hand. Joanne lightly took it from her hands. “Thank you. Now, don't interrupt my concentration.” She stroked the innocent girl’s hair back before returning to her assigned task. Now was not the time to act, but it would come soon enough. Soon enough.
Yalla watched with curiosity at Joanne. Her thin old fingers danced in slow motion, pointing down at the pages. Anna said that motions like that helped channel mana, making it easier to control. Whenever Anna watched her practice magic she would try and imitate those weird movements, but for her it didn't make magic easier at all. Yalla still did them though, as the old lady had helped her out a great deal over the years.
Starting to lose track of where the old lady’s fingers were dancing about, Yalla began thinking back. Had it been over three years already? She couldn't decide if her time spent working felt like an eternity or a moment. No reason it couldn't be a bit of both.
She remembered being brought to the temple for the first time. Yalla hadn’t been forcibly taken there in the most literal sense, but surrounded on all sides by scary men and women; an 11 year old didn't have many other options other than comply. Back then the words used were foreign, and she’d been escorted from unfamiliar room to unfamiliar room. Then they told her to do this and that, but she escaped her duties on more than one occasion.
That girl thought she was so clever, until the Oouei got sick of her disobedience. Leniency ceased, but naively she continued trying to evade the legions of the Church. By some miracle, eventually she found herself with Anna.
She never expected pie to fall from the sky and initially acted wary around the old lady. No smiles, no conversation other than ‘do this’,’fetch that’. Yalla thought this would be just another jailer to try and escape. Surprised would be understating what she felt when witnessing the old lady cast magic. At that time she didn't know the word, but always assumed that the Church would keep putting her under the control of ignorant Oouei.
All of a sudden things started changing for Yalla. Anna taught her everything about magic, mana, and why the Oouei hated them so much. All her life she’d been on her own, trying to match that feeling inside her with those pictures. Now someone could tell her what all of it meant. That feeling inside, those shapes-that-weren’t-shapes, Yalla’s entire life revolved around them.
They made her sad, even though they were a part of her. Almost as long as she could remember, she could feel that feeling, filling her up inside, wanting to do. It made her always on the go, the kids she called friends could hardly keep up with her pace, and her parents lectured her even as they smiled at her rambunctious activities.
Then a few years ago, there’d been a stormy night. It didn't usually rain heavily, but it did that time. Thunder roared through the sky like a beast, and water made its way through the weary roof weakened by days of strong wind. Yalla had wrapped herself in the only small blanket she had, shivering. She just wanted her parents, but stormclouds blocked the light from all the stars and moons. Feeling inside her, she knew she wanted light, and all of a sudden she knew that the feeling inside her could do that if she wanted.
In the sourceless illumination, Yalla clearly made out the aghast faces of her parents, and she very quickly realized it was not something they wanted. But it was too late at that point.
Yalla was allowed to wander around her village only a few more days before the people there sent her off for good. Her parents cried, not for her but because such an ill omen was birthed under their roof. Their quick reaction kept them from becoming complete pariahs, but certainly their life wouldn't be as simple as before.
Not that Yalla cared. After meeting Anna, Yalla did not even begrudge them. They were Oouei. There was no point hating something so simple.
The feeling and shapes inside her towed her through the next two years of her life. Truly, compared to leaving, they were the greatest of times. Beholden to no one, going her own way, Yalla realized that in solitude, she could practice using that feeling to heart’s content.
Self study wasn't easy. She couldn't tell why the shapes-that-weren't-shapes changed, and why they didn't always work. Trying over and over, there were no other options, but Yalla did learn the consequences of losing all of that feeling quickly.
Helplessness. Worse than that even; the feeling almost always was with her, keeping her going, letting her do as she pleased. Once it left completely for the first time, she just sat down.
Yalla passed out from hunger, and only the terrifying crack of thunder woke her shivering bones. That fear whipped her forward, without it she may have just withered into a pile of bones back then.
Now though, Anna taught her all about mana, spell shapes, and mana exhaustion. More than anything Yalla enjoyed their time together. The old lady treated her well.
Anna was nice, but she was still just a nice old lady to Yalla. In the past few months, Anna had less and less to share about magic with her. Years passed since she first arrived, and Yalla slowly approached the old lady’s height. She still treated her like a kid, and on top of the fact that there wasn't much left for her here, Yalla started feeling her mana more strongly again.
This wasn't the past, she was different now. She looked between the lazy Disciple and Joanne. Perhaps not today, but soon enough.
Soon enough.
A/N:AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Looking back, it feels like Joanne and Yalla should have each gotten their own chapters so their stories weren't so brief. Well, they aren't the MC so you can deal with it.
I'm posting this because I'm thinking of simply not including sidestories in the regular release schedule and putting them out on the same day as their preceding chapter.
Simon says make me a TV Tropes page~