Chapter Forty-One

Show and Tell

Michael sat under the dining canopy as the others ate lunch, wearing a look of grim confusion. Despite his many questions, he found little clarity. A soft lull of conversation had fallen.

“Okay just one more-”

The group erupted in groans.

Carter and James laughed into their hands. They were shining with sweat after running the obstacle course with the rangers, all four of them still slightly drunk.

Oliver laid a loving hand on Michael’s arm. “Ignore them, dear. I’m listening.”

Michael sighed and said, “You guys told me that Avery’s arm was blown off the first time they used Arcancy... if it’s their magic, why did it damage them?”

Oliver nodded understandingly. “Arcancy is not a Draendican power. It was Gargan- divine -and we just inherited it. Think about it this way; Arcancy is a crossbow. Now, if you made the crossbow, you might know exactly how much use you’ll get out of it before it explodes in your hands. But if you died, and some poor, unknowing bastard inherited your rusty crossbow, there’s every chance it might explode in their hands.”

Michael blinked and shook his head. “But that kind of thing doesn’t happen to most Legacies, right?”

“Not to that degree. The most common damage that Arcancy does is simply the pain we feel when conjuring it. And the haemorrhaging, of course, for most of us. The trouble with crossbows is that you tell they’re rusty just by looking at them, which is obviously not the case for us. Avery didn’t know they were a Legacy until they were twelve. Used it for the first time and boom. They’ve dabbled with it since, but never truly enacted it. Until today.”

Michael leant back and took a sip of his now-cold coffee. “I think I get it. But does-”

Everyone but Oliver groaned again.

“But does that mean,” Michael glared at them, “that eventually everyone’s crossbow rusts?”

The table went quiet at this question.

Carter shifted in his seat awkwardly and suddenly looked a great deal more sober.

“The more you use your Arcancy, the more powerful it becomes, but also the more volatile.”

Michael felt a pit in his stomach as he carefully asked, “So, one day, we may very well just-” he snapped his fingers.

Carter smiled quietly. “No. If it doesn’t try to kill you right away, then you’re safe from that kind of fate. But every Legacy has to be careful not to overuse their Arcancy, otherwise they run the risk of... well, using it for the wrong reasons.”

“The wrong reasons? What does that matter?”

“It matters more than anything.” Nichole let out her hair before re-doing it up and Michael realised he’d never seen her with it down before. With her bow on her back and the wind moving through her, she looked almost ethereal as she braided it.

“If you use Arcancy for reasons you know in your heart are bad, it changes you, like a drop of ink in a glass of water. Every act of Arcancy done for dark purposes, adds another. The worse the action, the darker the glass.”

Michael found himself analysing every time he’d ever used his Blood Magic. “What happens when the water turns black?”

Oliver cleared his throat, hoping to steer the conversation from awkwardness and simply said, “We call it Blood Magic because of how it reacts to us, but Arcancy is just diluted Creation Magic. It is the power over Creation and Created things. When we overuse it... when our souls become tainted by Arcancy... we lose control. Sometimes, when Legacies lose control, they just die-” Oliver made a softly flippant gesture. “But sometimes, they become cursed. I’ve personally never seen it. But apparently, it can mean your body, your mind, your beliefs they all become warped and- and well... you become so powerful and uncontrollable that you lose your mind to it. It puppets you.”

Michael suddenly couldn’t taste the coffee in his mug anymore.

Carter nodded to the statue which sat in the courtyard garden. It was of a woman plunging a greatsword into the soil, roaring out in anguish and pain. “See Kyliana over there?”

Michael nodded, never more aware of the detailed veins raging in her hands.

“Legend has it that she turned on purpose. Overused her Arcancy to save her country in some forgotten war like a thousand cycles ago. Some advancing army was about to destroy her kingdom, and to stop them, she summoned all of her strength and well… you know how Olympium is made up of two halves, Talisatia to the East, and the Dark Lands to the West? With the Spine of Olympium in the middle.”

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Michael frowned. “Of course.”

Carter swallowed and stared into his cup as he mumbled, “Didn’t used to be.”

Michael put down the coffee. “She split the continent?”

“It cost her life. And thank Khasm that it did, because who knows what her warped mind might have done with that kind of power if she’d survived.”

Michael looked at the palm of his hand and suddenly felt a lot less intrigued by the concept of his magic. “So, the moral of the story is to think good thoughts when casting Arcancy?”

Carter shook his head softly. “Knowing why you’re using your Arcancy isn’t surface-level thought. Its deeper. Your heart knows the truth even if your mind is fixated on something different. It’s kind of like being in love. You can pretend you don’t feel a certain way, but that won’t keep you hard.”

James sprayed coffee in a coughing-laughing fit and Sarah threw a bread roll at Carter’s head.

Michael, unphased, ran his fingers through his hair and frowned. “But who decides what’s good and what’s bad? The cat or the canary?”

“Each of us,” Nichole jumped in again. “Our own personal compass. Which, unfortunately, means the best of us can only use so much Arcancy, and the worst of us, the ones who believe in all their terrible, fanatical ideas down to their core, tend to be more powerful than anyone.”

Michael looked around the table and blew out a breath he only then realised he’d been holding in. “I should use mine less, huh?”

James spoke for the first time since their conversation began and shook his head, cutting in front of the others. “Do you trust yourself?”

“Most of the time. Sometimes.”

James smiled and moved his hair out of his eyes, gesturing to Michael’s still open palm. “Then use it when you do. When you don’t... well that’s why you have a bow.”

Michael sighed and flexed his fingers, and almost instantly his wrist and knuckles came alive with glowing veins, and from the creases in his hand arose a pebble-sized candlelight. He then closed his fist and let it vanish.

Michael nodded to himself, though no one spoke, and let the information settle in his mind. Before anyone else had the chance to speak, however, he said, “Alright, enough questions. I want to see what everyone’s working with.”

Aroha smirked and mumbled, “I think that’s third-date talk, isn’t it?”

Michael broke into a grin before staring at her.

Aroha threw up her hands. “I don’t have an Arcancy, jackass.”

Michael blinked. “Fair. James?”

James smiled tiredly, and all too politely said, “I don’t use mine.”

“Why?” Michael asked.

James looked softly at Michael and poured himself another drink. “Because I don’t.”

Michael waited for the glance which would mean I’ll tell you later, but it never came. He blinked and opened his mouth to ask further when Carter’s hand gripped him quickly by the elbow.

Carter’s face was casual and easy as he shook his head. Don’t.

Michael nodded and ruffled James’ hair before he stood up.

The company looked at Michael and he started grabbing them, dragging them up. Oliver cackled as he was pulled to his feet and the others followed suit.

“I don’t see why we’re on display!” Oliver said as they walked over to the sword stage. “Myself and Nicky have concealment Arcancies. You’ve seen ‘em. Sarah has Titan’s Strike. Carter, that just leaves you.”

Carter stopped the company short of the sword arena. “In that case, we don’t wanna be too near anything precious.” He smiled brightly and flexed his fingers, slowly breathing in and out.

As the air re-entered his lungs, the veins on his fingertips began quivering with silver light. The energy then travelled up high into his shoulders and Carter lowered himself down toward the soil. He dug his hands into the dirt and took one more deep breath.

The ground gave the barest of trembles and then the top-layer of soil exploded right beneath Carter’s fingers.

Everyone shielded their eyes from the shower of dust and when they opened them again, they found him holding a dirty clump of raw metal.

Michael’s heart was pounding, but the joke rose in him like tide. “Tell me your Arcancy isn’t just a magic shovel.”

Carter merely laughed and with his other vein-covered hand, lightly touched the heavy clump of mineral and the entire mass shattered into grains as fine as sand.

Michael went properly speechless this time.

As Carter moved his hands around in beautiful, fluid motions, the small granules followed him, like a flock of migrating birds.

“That’s iron. Pure iron. In case anyone was wondering,” Carter muttered. His veins eased back into his skin and the iron dust fell to the ground. “I can control particular metals and gems. Though, not stone like Sidney, or plants like Rose. And only in raw form. Once it’s tempered, I can’t bond with it.”

As Carter stamped the soil he’d ruined down flat again, Michael chuckled with wonder and a group of Legacies shuffled behind them to get into the lower sword stage.

Michael didn’t notice the group and threw his hands up. “Well, you guys have all seen my Arcancy, but here we go-”

“Michael, wait!” Carter yelled a moment too late.

Michael summoned a bright white sphere of Blood Magic right as a young woman stepped behind him and fully caught her in the eyes.

She yelled out in pain for a moment before switching to some rather creative curses in Ri, both verbal and Sign, which Michael thought was impressive multi-tasking as he apologised profusely. She was double-bent over away from them and only when she opened her eyes and stood up again did he realise it was Rose.

Again.

Michael felt so gut-wrenchingly bad that he didn’t know how to apologise for it. He stammered and covered his face and took a step back, knowing there was a very real possibility he’d get punched.

Rose rubbed her eyes for a long few minutes before looking at him. “What is wrong with you!”

“I’m so, so, so sorry.”

Rose clenched her bowstaff, looking at Michael with severe loathing before she gritted her teeth and walked away, fuming. As she stomped, her Arcancy flickered out of pure rage and the even flowers at her feet seemed to glare at Michael.

Sarah ambled over to the face-smothered archer and couldn’t stop herself from saying, “Now, you’re the worst.”