Two dozen times later, and Ceyda could find no solution any better than merely punching the wall as hard as humanly possible and hoping for some sort of punching based spell from Gretian. Doc had walked her through a process of meditation, as it would evidently help with getting spells from Dorskina, but she quickly decided she would rather be decapitated by her captors and have her head put on a spike than experiencing any moment of whatever that nonsense was.

She had of course, been forced to use the bucket. It was that ordeal that led her here, to the wall, flailing her arms, bruising her palms and knuckles in a desperate attempt to gain supreme magical power.

Results were mixed.

Or more accurately, completely nonexistent

Strangely, in all the radio dramas where people were kidnapped, they never mentioned how utterly boring it was. Ceyda felt wholly lied to. Where was the drama? The intensity! If she was going to be kidnapped it should at least have the decency to be interesting!

“Do you think it would be rude if I left tonight?” Ceyda said.

Are you asking if it would be rude to leave your kidnappers? Doc reiterated, vibrating against the wall.

Ceyda looked at the embedded emerald and nodded.

So. It could be done. There’s a Dorskina spell that might help, but usually it’s not a spell you can learn overnight, but considering how well this is going, it might be a better gamble.

“Doc this isn’t going well at all,” Ceyda corrected.

Before Doc could respond, there was a heavy creaking noise and the basement door opened.

Four blurry figures walked down the stairs, silent. Ceyda squinted, trying to figure out the hair colors in the darkened basement.

One set down a wood chair.

“Sit down!” Opal’s voice rang out.

“Oh, hello Opal,” Ceyda said as she sat down. “It is very dark in here. Could I get some candles? Or a new prison cell? One with plumbing?”

The other blurry figures grabbed her hands and started to tie her wrists behind the chair.

“Wh-hey!” Ceyda yelled. “Don’t tie me! That’s not fair!”

The person behind her gave an annoyed snort. How rude.

“We have some questions to ask you,” Opal continued, enunciating each word. “If you lie, there will be consequences.”

Karani save me, this is ridiculous.

“Are these going to be more questions about how I’m a hollow doll?” Ceyda asked.

Someone clapped their hand over their mouth, stifling laughter. Ceyda didn’t know if she was funny, or if they found the insult funny. She sorely hoped she had accidentally shamed Opal with her razor wit.

“How did the book choose you?” Opal asked.

“It glowed very brightly, and then there was a hooded figure, and they asked a question, everyone said the worst part about themselves, and then I gave my answer and then it asked me for my body and I wasn’t sure but then I said yes,” Ceyda said.

“You didn’t… do anything?” Opal pressed.

“Like what?”

There was a silence as Opal’s voice became inaudible and she mumbled to the others with her.

“Doc, I can’t see, is there some way I can cast a spell for light?” Ceyda asked.

You can’t just--oh wait. Oh that’s really easy. That’s a Dorskina spell.

“Sweet! Dorskina! Make it light!”

Absolutely nothing happened.

Ceyda sighed. How frustrating.

Perhaps try and make it less like an order and more like a request. Or a prayer.

Ceyda rolled her head around, shifting her weight on the chair. Easy. She could do that. Just had to make it sound less. Demandy.

“Why is she talking to herself?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

“By Dorskina’s grace,” Ceyda said. “Bring us light.”

The moment the words left her tongue, a familiar spark travelled down her spine, and the basement was brilliantly illuminated.

Her captors yelled and squinted at the sudden sun-level brightness emanating from Ceyda. She wasn’t too sure why they were freaked out, she could see just fine. It didn’t even hurt her eyes, which was weird since lightbulbs and fire hurt her eyes all the time.

One of the blurs had been Opal, but that much Ceyda already knew. Another Ceyda recognized instantly by silhouette alone--Danette. She had been the one to stifle a laugh. The other two did not look familiar to Ceyda at all. One boy had blond hair, so that meant it could be Aster, but she wasn’t sure. The other one--bulkier, but the only one who matched that body type closely enough here was Lyle, and everything else was the wrong color. For one, they had rusty red hair, and much more of a gut.

“Argh! Why? Fuck!” the one with dirty blond hair yelled. That certainly sounded like Aster.

Opal staggered upwards, withdrew her knife, and pointed it at Ceyda. “Retract the spell, right now!”

Ceyda blinked in confusion. For the first time since arriving, her heart skipped a beat in fear. Knives were sharp. Knives were dangerous. Knives were subjected to the whims of reality where an idle move could cut someone’s neck and make them bleed all over. “W-why? It’s just light. I couldn’t see.”

I admittedly did not realize how. Intense a light spell coming from you would be--hey!

Ceyda looked over to see Danette stomping on Doc.

“Stop that!” Ceyda yelled, as she rocked back in forth in her chair. In hindsight she should have not sat down on this chair, that had been very trusting of her and she was a fool.

Danette’s stomping pounded in Ceyda’s head, like a distant echo. It didn’t hurt, but it was intensely disorienting. The spell faded, leaving Ceyda in darkness and the rest in a panicked, heaving mass.

Opal retracted her knife.

“Be careful with that thing,” Aster muttered.

“Why don’t we just--destroy it?” Danette suggested.

“Absolutely not!” Opal hissed before Ceyda could give a strangulated yell in protest.

“It’s no use to us now,” the mysterious ginger said. “She’s the chosen one.”

“We can unchosen her, then!” Opal snapped back. “It’s just a stupid spellbook, we just have to--do something. Set it back to its original form.”

Danette picked up the spellbook and started walking away with it. “We can at least get it away from Ceyda--”

“--don’t!--” Aster yelled.

The spellbook ripped out of Danettes hands, and it went flying towards Ceyda, hitting her straight on the forehead. Ceyda fell sideways, still tied to the chair, utterly disoriented.

“Owwww,” Ceyda moaned. “That really hurt, Danette!”

The group stared at Ceyda and the spellbook in silence.

“Maybe if we tricked the book,” the ginger said quietly. “Like we make it think we’re bringing it to the girl and then, bam, fakeout.”

“...it’s not a person you can trick,” Opal said. “It’s just enchanted to act like this. We’d have to break the enchantment.”

“The book is so a person!” Ceyda protested. “Its name is Doc!”

As much as I hate to agree with Opal, I have no actual control of what this grimoire does. I don’t choose to fly into you every time I’m more than a few feet away.

Opal took a deep, annoyed sigh. “What exactly did the book tell you when it picked you?”

“No, the book didn’t tell me that, that was the mysterious hooded figure, they’re different.”

“What did anyone tell you about the spell book?” Opal repeated.

Ceyda rolled her eyes upwards. “The hooded person said--”

She paused. It had been an entire night’s rest and some very disjointed hours since then, and her memory was beginning to fade and melt with everything else she was told.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“--said something about a burden, I think?” Ceyda said. “Doc mostly just talks about the history of magic before Kesterline.”

Opal tilted her head. Danette took a step closer, and the other two stared at her.

“It’s all outdated, but it was pretty cool. Apparently when Doc was around, everyone could use magic. And each magic type had its own… avatar person, in charge of it!” Ceyda explained.

“Wait--if that’s the case--” Danette paused. “This is a stupid question but does that mean the book could teach anyone magic?”

Yes. I see no reason anyone here can’t learn magic. The fact that no one has is weird. If we worked together we could probably have everyone casting at a base level within the month.

Ceyda stared at her grimoire, and then back at Danette. For a long, painful minute, Ceyda said nothing at all.

That hadn’t been something she had thought about at all.

Other people. Casting magic.

“Well, I am pretty sure the book is why my spells are so powerful,” Ceyda said. “So only the book user can get that.”

Right but they could learn the regular versions. Anyone can use magic over fourteen and I refuse to believe that somehow was changed.

Danette sighed, and cast her eyes down. “So not even less powerful spells?”

“...n-nope! Can’t learn anything at all!” Ceyda said, as she stumbled through the words. Two things happened simultaneously. The first was a sudden, intense stress stomachache, to the point she felt as if she were about to puke. The other was Doc not saying a word, but vibrating so intensely that Ceyda could feel the confusion and annoyance emanating from them.

“Damnation,” Danette muttered. She waved a hand off dismissively, and promptly sat on the basement floor.

“Mm,” Opal hummed. “Well can’t do much with that.”

“...wanna join the rebellion?” the ginger asked brightly.

“Gilbert!” Opal hissed.

The large freckled ginger shrugged. “What? You told us that the only way we were winning is if we had magic. Well, now we have it!”

“She’s nobility! She actively benefits from the very people who hurt us!” Opal shot back.

Gilbert shrunk slightly. “Well--yeah but it doesn’t hurt to ask, right? Since we have her. Stuck here.”

“We’re all going to wake up with our heads on pikes,” Aster mumbled to himself. “The mages will march our bodies in the streets.”

“I will join your rebellion for a pair of glasses, food, and a toilet,” Ceyda said.

“...no,” Opal said flatly.

“What? Why not!” Ceyda frowned. “I’m just going to break out if you don’t!”

“If you could have broken out, you would have done so, instead of complying to every order,” Opal said. “Or are you that slow-witted, chatelaine?”

Ceyda blushed and stared at the ground. “No. I just haven’t… done so yet.”

“We have to do something because--” Danette gestured. “You know?”

“Know what?” Ceyda asked.

“Your parents are--” Danette’s jaw hung open and she promptly snapped it shut. “Never mind.”

“What are they doing?” Ceyda’s eyes widened.

“Freaking turning over the entire country-side looking for your sorry ass,” Aster chimed in.

Opal hissed at Aster.

“What?” Aster snapped back.

“We agreed we weren’t going to give our prisoner more information than needed!” Opal said.

“Yeah well, eat my ass,” Aster replied back solemnly.

There was a momentary shout as Gilbert stepped between Aster and Opal, who both seemed to have the same idea of charging the other head first.

“Could someone pick my chair up?” Ceyda asked. “My arm hurts.”

With a heavy sigh, Danette walked over and put Ceyda back in the sitting position.

“Thanks Danette,” Ceyda said cheerfully.

“...no problem, Ceyda,” Danette said quietly.

“I heard those things you were saying when you thought I was asleep, by the way,” Ceyda said. “I don’t think you like me very much and I wanted to say that’s all right! I totally understand!”

Danette’s hands froze. “...what?”

“Doc says I dismissed your brother a lot and made light of his problems. Also, I insulted you at least once too! Apparently some people like having parents. So I’m sorry you have none,” Ceyda said, nodding her head.

Ceyda was expecting a multitude of responses. Top on her list was Danette to laugh and say that was a silly thing to apologize for, and then Ceyda would be able to give a “told-you-so” to Doc.

Instead, Danette promptly slapped her across the face.

What? Why? What had she done wrong? Had she been incorrect? Why slap her? How did that make any sense! Even if Ceyda had insulted Danette, her parents had probably been dead for ages and Ceyda had apologized for it!

In a flustered hurry, Danette stomped up the stairs without another word, and Opal and Aster were quick to follow, leaving just Ceyda and Gilbert behind.

Gilbert sighed, and walked behind Ceyda. He bent down and started to untie her.

“...I don’t know what I did wrong,” Ceyda said. “I tried to answer everything!”

“Mm,” the ginger said. “Where’s your bucket?”

Ceyda pointed to it. Gilbert sighed again. “I can’t get you plumbing, but I can at least clean that out and get you an apple. Please don’t escape.”

He didn’t wait for Ceyda to respond, and instead grabbed the bucket and walked upstairs without another word. He wasn’t interested in talking like Merlin was, not at all.

Ceyda. What in the names of the Avatars was that.

Ceyda sat on her bed and cradled the grimoire. “What was what?”

You lied! To their faces!

“Yes,” Ceyda confirmed. She lay down on her stomach in order to soothe its pained gurgling.

But you don’t lie!

“...what in Kesterline gave you that idea?” Ceyda asked. “I lie all the time!”

When. When have you lied since I’ve met you, Ceyda?

“Just there,” Ceyda said. “Haven’t really needed to otherwise.”

Haven’t really needed to otherw--Ceyda why is that the one fact you obscured? Do you not want them to learn magic?

Ceyda groaned into the blanket. “We don’t even know if you’re right, Doc.”

That’s it? That’s the entire reason you lied? Because you didn’t want to get their hopes up?

“N-no. It’s just. Well. I don’t see any reason to teach them magic,” Ceyda mumbled. “I’d help them with the rebellion if they just treated me more nicely.”

There is not going to be a rebellion! They are children who gather together with no planning or knowledge of what to do! If we were able to awaken their own grimoires, however, then they could be self sufficient. They wouldn’t need to fight mages or the aristocracy. They’d have protection and more!

Ceyda groaned again. Doc was beginning to annoy her, a lot. Wasn’t it obvious? Wasn’t it obvious that Ceyda didn’t want to teach them magic, and that it was probably a super bad idea as well? It was so weird that Doc was obsessed with this idea of teaching others, like that was such a better solution.

“But if I’m a super powerful mage I can just fight all the other mages and lead the rebellion,” Ceyda said. “So it works out.”

You are drastically ignoring my point! And yes, you’re very strong, but you can’t stand against an adult who has been trained for at least six years.

Ceyda frowned. “I absolutely can. I just need to learn some sort of attacky spell. Even my light spell made everyone freak out.”

Ceyda, it won’t matter how strong you are if the other mages have even basic military training.

“How do you know? You haven’t even met another mage than me!” Ceyda gave the book a light chuck against the ground, only to realize her folly when it came slamming back at her. She gave a yelp and dodged as it made impact with the wooden palette, denting it.

All right. I’ll concede that. I don’t know anything about the world. I don’t know how mages act, or why this world is so different from mine. But. If there’s even a small chance of someone learning--shouldn’t we try it? We could only tell one, tell them to keep it a secret, say it might not even work. Go through the process, and if it doesn’t work, they’ll at least know you tried. If it does, great! We can empower the entirety of Bricketfriar!

“Well… I don’t want to do that,” Ceyda said, the words sounding far more impactful in her head than they did in practice.

Why not?

“Because--” Ceyda bit the inside of her cheek. “Well, it wouldn’t be fair.”

What wouldn’t be fair?

“The book chose me right? They called me a chosen one. I’m the one with the magical abilities. I was gifted them even though I was a chatelaine. Why… why should I have to give it away? I’ve only had you for two days! Maybe in a few years, but certainly not now,” Ceyda said awkwardly.

Doc did not respond and Ceyda was left in the dark with nothing but her thoughts. Was Doc mad at her? Doc had been the one to push this conversation, it wasn’t Ceyda’s fault if they didn’t like the answer.

After several minutes, the grimoire finally vibrated into life again.

That is not how any of this works. At all.

Ceyda rolled her eyes.

I’m serious. You’re not losing magic because you’re teaching someone else how to. And yes the book chose you but that doesn’t mean it decided you exclusively should wield magic. These people--anyone who isn’t a mage in your society is not being given magic by you. Magic was robbed from them, and you are righting a wrong.

“If they ever had magic in the first place,” Ceyda corrected.

Ceyda Lucrece I swear for the love of Karani. This is selfish. You’re being selfish. This is a selfish act where you got something and want to keep it for yourself and no other reason.

“Well, I am a chatelaine,” Ceyda muttered.

I don’t know enough about cores to know if you’re joking or not, but regardless, I can’t do anything without you. Ceyda, please. Reconsider this. We need to at least try.

“Why? Why do I have to try? It’s my book! Mine!” Ceyda snapped. “I want to lead a rebellion! I don’t want to teach others how to use magic!”

What is so bad about doing this the slow way?

“Because--” Ceyda’s voice faltered. Even as she said it, she knew it sounded childish. “Because I’m special! I’m not just some random chatelaine, I am the first woman mage since those two Blanche girls. And if I teach everyone else, then I’m not special anymore, am I?”

Ceyda…

“We can teach them later, all right? We can teach them after we win.”

Ceyda, come on. Look--you want to be special. You are! You can still be special even if everyone else can use magic.

“It’s not the same,” Ceyda muttered. “Surely you can see the difference?”

No Ceyda, no I can’t. Where I come from, magic is an Avatar given right. It is not something withheld, I don’t even know how it would be withheld. Having magic shouldn’t make you special. It can’t make you special. But having a talking grimoire with powerful spells would be an oddity even where I came from.

“Well. It’s different,” Ceyda sniffed. It was a terrible answer and she knew it. She didn’t know how to articulate the raw gutteral feeling of why she didn’t want to do this. It was so intrinsic to her that explaining it to someone felt like a joke. Anyone in her position would have done the same. They would take the book and make sure no one else got it. Why was Doc not getting this?

All right Ceyda. All right.

“You understand?” Ceyda asked, her eyes brightening for a moment.

Sure.

That ‘sure’ didn’t sound too happy. There was something about the brevity that threw Ceyda off, and she couldn’t quite place why.

But regardless, Ceyda had won. At this point she wanted to call it a day and go to sleep. But she had woken up a few hours ago, and thus she was in no mood to sleep. Pity. Sleeping was convenient. Sleeping made things happen in the outside world.

Her stomach growled in protest, and Ceyda sucked on one of her bruised knuckles.

Gilbert had said he would bring her an apple. But until then she knew what she had to do.

She stood up. “All right, Doc. Teach me another spell.”

There was a few moments of silence before Doc responded.

Very well. You still only have access to Dorskina.

“That’s fine. I’ll just learn what’s next. I can expand my senses and make a bright light. Surely there will be something else useful in there,” Ceyda said.

There is.

“Then let's go with that!” Ceyda said, clapping her hands together.

While Doc had been wrong and insensitive, she had instilled a point in Ceyda’s mind. Ceyda wasn’t special. Not yet. If she wished to, she would have to learn more spells, whatever spells she could get her hands on.

She cracked her knuckles, and raised her hand in preparation of invoking Dorskina again. Maybe if she was lucky, she could become an all powerful mage by next week.