Chapter 38 - Reciprocity

Forest Outside Magrath, Vanstead Dukedom of Augustein Year 995

“—re you alright?”

Amara tore her eyes away from the cloud of smoke rising steadily from the charred trunk. The snapped bark jutted out in sharp, darkened shapes that were partially obscured by the spiraling grey trails coiling around the fallen tree. She hadn’t realized smoke lingered for so long, she thought idly. Even when the breeze stirred the air, a bit of the grey always remained, refusing to disperse.

“Huh?”

“I’m asking if you’re alright.” Isolde’s face was a blank mask. “You seem a bit distracted,” she said bluntly.

Amara turned around. The stone beneath her rocked with the movement, its edges only loosely held by the ground beneath it. “Eh, I’m just thinking about some stuff,” she said dismissively.

“I assume this is related to the nightmare you had?”

The corners of Amara’s lips tilted upwards. “I knew you were still awake.”

“I’m a rather light sleeper,” Isolde said simply. She stepped over to her bag and rummaged around its contents. Amara could hear the sound of clicking stones as the woman searched through the ore with a methodical rhythm. “Do you often have nightmares?”

“No.” Amara leaned back on her arms, staring up at the sky through the canopy. The wind that day was a little stronger than usual, and it felt good on her skin. “Almost never do, actually.”

Isolde raised an eyebrow at that. “That’s unexpected.”

“Yeah, maybe. I just don’t remember my dreams that much.”

Even back in the facility, while the other kids frequently experienced nightmares, she rarely ever did. Edith had once said it was because Amara was better at shutting her thoughts off. She’d taken it as a joke back then, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth to it. If she was imagining the hint of resentment in those words. You just exist and don’t care about anything.

Amara shook her head and jumped to her feet. Arching back, she stretched her arms, ignoring the pull of the bandages. “Anyway, what were you saying earlier?” She spoke a little louder than usual.

Isolde, she realized, had stopped her rummaging. The woman gave her a long look, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she straightened and tossed one of the larger ores at Amara, who caught it and didn’t bother looking at the label. She already knew what it was.

Isolde nodded at the burnt tree. “Just now, did you feel any difference in your magic?”

Amara frowned. Her gaze drifted over to the red and orange markings glowing across her arms, focusing specifically on the words that read Reduction: 0%.

The moment they’d arrived at the clearing that day, Isolde had begun teaching, or rather attempting to teach her, how to use negation. Since the core theory behind it relied on using magic reductively, she first had to improve that skill, Isolde had explained.

In simple terms, reductive magic use was the opposite of what she normally did. Instead of increasing energy, she would decrease it. Actually accomplishing this, however, was proving to be a significant challenge.

“You still need to flare your magic,” Isolde had said. “It’s a bit difficult to explain, but instead of ‘pushing’ your magic, the sensation should feel more like ‘pulling.’”

Amara closed her eyes and focused on her reserves again. Each time she’d tried it, she’d accomplished nothing but a normal blast. Her fingers danced idly across the hard surface of the ore. She wasn’t sure how many times she’d attempted it at this point, but she could feel the telltale fatigue settling into her limbs.

“It’s easier for some than others,” Isolde had explained. “In fact, there are some who find reductive magic easier than the ‘standard’ usage. For most, however, it’s considered the most difficult skill to learn for a reason.”

As her magic reserves began to build again, Amara found herself wondering if Edith would’ve been good at this. Back in the facility they’d never used magic, at least not properly of their own accord. Edith had had a major motion magic affinity, she remembered, or maybe she was superimposing the idea onto her memory because of Isolde’s resemblance. Either way, a motion affinity would’ve suited her, she thought.

Amara’s fingers squeezed a little tighter around the ore, and she inhaled. She pictured a strand of magic rising from her reserves, but just like before, the next step was the hard part. Her eyebrows furrowed. A “pulling” sensation, Isolde had said. She grit her teeth. As she attempted to manipulate the strand, she felt it quiver, on the verge of breaking apart entirely. Her reserves bubbled in resistance. She gripped the ore so hard that its unpolished edges dug into her skin, and she gave the strand a final, hard yank.

Magic Reserves: 62,388 → 62,386 → 62,371 / 110,876

Maximum Output: 22

Variability: 1

Amara fell backwards as her magic burst out, and she heard the by-now familiar sound of snapping bark. She exhaled, simply lying on the soft grasses for a moment, her chest rising and falling. She raised her hand to the sky and stared at those numbers. Just like before, the skill hadn’t even been activated. She forced herself back up.

As expected, the already broken and charred tree was even further damaged. Far beyond salvaging. Her limbs felt more sluggish, but she knew that was simply the short term costs and not because she’d succeeded at reduction. At this point she wouldn’t be surprised if her output increased again before she managed to activate the skill at all.

When she looked up at Isolde, the woman’s expression was still perfectly blank. Amara just shook her head, and Isolde sighed.

“I should’ve known it wouldn’t be so easy,” she muttered. “Alright, that’s enough for today. You should return to the inn and rest. We can try again tomorrow.”

The next day, however, proved no more fruitful than the previous one had been. Nor was the day after that.

On the third day, as Amara stared down at her markings, she distantly processed that she’d spent nearly 300 of her reserves on simply attempting to activate the reduction skill. That should probably bother her more, she thought. Instead, as she lowered her arm again, all she felt was a growing restlessness churning in the pit of her stomach.

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She’d had the same dream every night since then. Every time she would jerk awake in her bed, body cold, and every time it ended the same way. The quivering mass on the sterile metal table. The hand reaching towards her. She shoved the images away each time, pushing them into the far recesses of her mind, but they were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

The ore in her hand shattered, falling to the ground in a shimmering cloud of dust that glowed in the rosy light. It contrasted with the smoke rising up from the charred bark. Amara didn’t give it a second glance, simply striding over to pick up her axe and bag without another word. By now, she already had a good idea of when Isolde would call it a day. She straightened and turned to the woman in question, brow raised expectantly.

“I’m guessing we’re heading back now,” she said bluntly.

Isolde’s gaze shifted from where she’d been staring at the broken tree. By now, the size of the clearing had expanded as a result of the blasts. The woman nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I think that’s enough for now.”

The path through the forest was at once both softer and harsher in the evening sky. The shadows darkened and stretched long and thin, obscuring the ground, but the bits of sunlight streaming through the gaps in the canopy were blindingly bright. The combined result was a landscape of sharpened edges.

Every time a twig snapped or a bush rustled, Amara found herself flinching. The sight of the crooked branches unsettled something deep within her. She clenched her fingers in an attempt to calm her nerves. There was no reason for her to be so jumpy, she thought.

She was almost relieved when they heard yelling, purely because it was something to distract herself with.

She and Isolde exchanged glances before slowing their paces. The shadows of the forest helped conceal them, and through the gaps between the trees, Amara could see a few dark uniformed guards along the main road. She took a step closer, careful to avoid making noise, and leaned forward.

Several guards led by Kain were marching down the path towards Magrath, their weapons drawn and held casually by their sides. Metal gleamed in the light, and between them were what looked like a group of miners, surrounded on all sides. Based on their dirt-covered clothing and how a few still had their helmets on, it looked like they’d been pulled away in the middle of work.

Amara frowned when her eyes fell on the woman and the bearded man they’d encountered when Levent had escorted them. The man’s fists were clenched, and she noted that the guard at his side was walking particularly close to him. A large bruise bloomed across one of his cheeks, and his knuckles were scratched like he’d been fighting. The woman, meanwhile, walked more steadily, but Amara noted how her eyes kept scanning their surroundings, searching for a way out but finding none. Amara leaned closer, and she saw a few other miners further back on the road. They were silent, and their eyes didn’t stare directly at the group, but at the same time they seemed unable to turn away entirely.

Ducking further back into the forest, Amara stepped between the trees to keep up with the group, speeding her pace until she was near the front where Kain was. She could see Isolde watching her from her peripheral vision, but she ignored the woman’s gaze.

“—rry it up,” Kain was saying. “No point dawdling. You’re just wasting time.” He sounded, as he usually did, a combination of irritated and tired. Amara vaguely wondered if the man was ever not annoyed about something.

The guards in the back pressed their weapons closer to the miners, and the group sped up. Amara stayed still as they passed by and entered the town proper, watching them go. For a second she could’ve sworn she saw Kain’s eyes glance in her direction, but he turned his head away and kept walking. Maybe she’d imagined it.

“It seems they conducted their inspection today,” Isolde remarked from behind her. Amara jerked around, but the woman showed no reaction to her jumpiness. She simply continued to watch the passing group until they vanished between the town’s buildings.

Amara exhaled. “...I guess they found something,” she muttered.

“Inspections like these usually do.” Isolde stepped back onto the main road now that it was clear, dusting off her clothes. “It’s best not to get involved.”

“Hm.”

Amara’s eyes lingered on the road ahead, but the guards and the miners were already far out of view, marching steadily towards the Alardice manor.

—

When they were a few blocks away from the inn, Amara spotted a familiar head of silvery hair. She paused in her tracks and turned to Isolde.

“Hey, you go on ahead,” she said. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

Isolde stared at her, and for a second Amara thought she was going to say something, but in the end she simply nodded her head and continued towards the inn. Amara watched her leave, eyes lingering on her swaying dark hair, before she turned away and made her way over to the man.

“Hey.”

Levent spun around at the sound of her voice, muscles tensing, but they relaxed once he recognized her. He frowned.

“Oh. It’s you.”

He wasn’t carrying anything that day, Amara noted. At the same time, she doubted he was walking around Magrath for leisure. She cocked her head to the side. “More errands?”

Levent just shrugged, and judging by the way his left shoulder moved, it was probably still injured.

“I saw some of the guards earlier,” Amara continued. “Looked like they were escorting a few miners. I’m guessing the inspection didn’t go well.”

Levent’s lips thinned, and he glanced in the direction of the manor. “It—One of the miners fell into a magic use spiral,” he finally said. “That’s why he started stealing ore. It sounds like some of the others were helping him.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced about the latter part.

An image of the man in the square flashed in Amara’s head. She hadn’t noticed any long term magic consequences when she’d seen him, she thought. Not before the Aberration had impaled the man. She adjusted her gloves. She wondered how much of his reserves he’d had left before the descent began.

When Amara looked up again, she realized Levent was staring at her. His face was mostly impassive, as it usually was, but there was a slight furrow between his eyebrows. She shifted her weight.

“What?”

Levent hesitated.

“...Are you okay? You’re not as loud as usual.”

Amara snorted. “Glad to know that’s your first impression of me.” As she spoke, one of her hands rose subconsciously. She suddenly had an intense urge to check if her facial expression was “normal.” Images of the dream flashed in her head, the disparate pieces and sensations. It had only been three nights; she shouldn’t be showing any visible exhaustion yet. It should take much more than that before becoming obvious.

Even thinking about the dreams stirred something cold and uncomfortable in her stomach. She didn’t want more people knowing about them, and she certainly didn’t want to be asked about them. And so, without thinking, she blurted, “Training’s been tough. I’m having trouble with a skill.”

Levent seemed to accept the explanation, and her shoulders relaxed.

“What skill?” He sounded genuinely curious even as his expression remained neutral, and Amara was glad to have an easy answer.

“Negation. Well, reduction first, I guess.” She scratched her head. “I can’t seem to figure it out. Isolde’s tried teaching me, but nothing’s worked so far.”

Levent was silent for a few moments, seemingly contemplating something. When he spoke again, his words were hesitant.

“If you want,” he said slowly, “I could ask Glenn to teach you. He’s really good.”

Amara blinked. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Wait, are you sure?”

Levent nodded, brows furrowed in thought. “Yeah. I think—it should be fine. You train in the forest, right? He should have time in the evening.” The longer he spoke, the more confident he sounded in the idea. “Knowing him, he’d be happy to help.” He smiled wryly. “And this way I don’t owe you a favor anymore.”

“You know I wasn’t serious about that, right.”

“Well I’m taking it seriously. I don’t like having debts,” Levent added more quietly. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, would that be alright with you?”

Amara thought back to the Aberration attack and how easily Glenn had dispatched the final one. Watching how easily he’d waved aside the attack aimed at them had been one of the things that had made her want to learn reduction and negation in the first place. Isolde seemed to have dismissed the man entirely, but he was clearly just as skilled a fighter as the stories said, sudden departure from the Academy or not.

She turned back to Levent, nodding, and felt a smile spreading across her face.

“That’d be great,” she said.