There was nothing quite like the ache Rhys felt when his finger twitched. It shot up his arm like fire, making his entire shoulder tingle. He cringed, his face about the only thing that didn’t hurt, and slowly forced his heavy eyelids open. A mosaic ceiling greeted him, its blue reminiscent of western skies, not that they were any different than any other sky. Just... west was home.
Home. Mom, he thought, his face contorting as prior events of the direstorm pounded through his mind, the two mana bars a reminder of his failure. Squinting, he saw a faintly glowing symbol under the bars. As he thought about it, the round sigil grew in his vision, followed by a small descriptor:
[Strength Buff]
“He’s awake. Go get Captain Bryne,” a voice, feminine, said.
Rhys shifted, groaning as he craned his head to see who was talking. Past rows of empty cots was a woman in golden robes━a luminar━and a second that left through an ornate archway. The luminar turned to Rhys, her cold gaze shooting a shiver up his spine. Her hasty approach had him trying to get up, but all he managed to do was drop back down to his pillow with a grunt.
“Glass!” he croaked out, his arms trembling beneath him as he pushed again.
“Stop struggling, boy,” the luminar said, grabbing a pillow from an adjacent cot and tucking it behind him before he dropped again. “I just barely woke you up from three days’ rest.”
“What?” Rhys widened his eyes slightly, a grimace coloring his expression next. “How━”
“The direstorm knocks all manacasters out with prolonged exposure, especially ones that just gained their mana well,” she said, moving to the nightstand near Rhys’ head and scooping a spoonful of dark bronze powder into a glass of water.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Rhys huffed, and internally slapped himself. This was a luminar, owned and protected by the government. Moreover, she could probably just as easily remove his buff status. He’d try not to sass government officials from this point forward.
“Very well.” She set the spoon aside, then hovered a wrinkled hand over the concoction. Strands of gold slowly formed around her fingers, and poured into the bronze liquid. It steamed. “One of two things happened. Either you’re going to be a very powerful manacaster, or the direstorm wore you down and you’ve simply been a waste of resources. For your sake, boy, you better have a big mana well,” she stated tersely, staring him down with a frown.
She picked the glass up, and instead of even offering it to him, held the back of his head and pressed the cup to his lips. “Drink it all.”
Rhys sputtered at first, making a sour expression at the drink’s bitter taste. He jerked, reaching a hand up to take the glass from her, to which she quickly dumped the rest of the cup’s contents into his mouth before he could do anything. It slipped down his throat with ease, and he held a fist to his mouth as nausea set in.
“What was that?” he asked, gagging.
“Hold it in,” the luminar said.
“You don’t have to be so hard on him, Luminar Beti.” Rhys looked at the archway, squinting as he recognized the knight who’d untied him from the post.
“It’s been three days, Captain. Even our most powerful of manacasters only slept for one day after their Coming of Age Ceremony.”
After the drink settled in his gut, Rhys felt heat radiate through him. “What did you give me?” he demanded more than asked.
“It’s a mild toxin, or Ellee tea, as we call it,” the luminar said.
Rhys blinked, then groaned as his face flushed. Every part of him felt hot to the touch. It started to hurt, his own clothes grinding against his skin. “Leave it to the government to glassing poison me!” he hissed. Yeah, his no sass rule was already out the window.
The captain chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll be fine, she’s just assessing your divinity.”
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Frowning, Rhys said, “You know, asking would have been just as effective.” He groaned as the pain worsened, and clenched his teeth.
“Stop resisting the toxin, boy. It’ll be over faster if you let it touch your mana,” Luminar Beti said.
Turning his head to her, he tried to give a profoundly confused expression, but cringed instead. “And how am I supposed to do that?”
“Try breathing,” Beti said, then took in a breath and slowly let it out as an example.
A part of Rhys wanted to refuse, but another part just wanted the discomfort to end. They’ll assess my divinities, he thought, and realistically knew there was no way out of it. He caved, taking a deep breath. As he released it, his skin slowly began to cool, then steam. That was weird. No, wait... Furrowing his brow, Rhys saw gold shimmer through the steam, and the gold bar in the corner of his vision lessened by a hair. He noticed the violet bar do the same before he even saw wisps of violet through the steam.
Then he relaxed with a sigh. The pain subsided, leaving him in a cold sweat.
“What did you see?” Bryne asked.
Beti stared, mouth agape. “Two divinities,” she said. “He’s a luminar and an eclipser. Deep mana wells too.” She clamped her mouth shut, then shot Bryne a stern look. “I want to train him.”
“No!” Rhys blurted. He cringed, making a third attempt at sitting up. This time, he succeeded.
Bryne raised an eyebrow, and looked at Luminar Beti. “I will put in a good word for you,” he said dryly. “Go back to the academy to continue training your current students.”
Beti scowled. “I know when you’re lying,” she pointed a finger.
“Goodbye, Luminar,” Bryne waved, Beti scoffing before glancing back at Rhys and stalking from the room.
Rhys stared until she was gone, flexing his jaw. Training, academy, manacasters... Glass, he was one of them now. He knew what came next, but didn't all at the same time. The academy would push him to level, then he'd go to the warfront. What about mom? he thought, practically scowling at his internal image of his ill mother struggling to get by.
The hand waving in front of his face made him jump, and Rhys tore his eyes from the empty archways to the knight beside him. “You're not falling asleep with your eyes open, are you?” Bryne asked.
“I wish I could,” Rhys huffed out.
The captain reached over, placing a gloved hand on Rhys’ shoulder and firmly squeezed. “Why don't we get you something to eat first and a warm bath?”
“Warm bath?” Rhys asked, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t those only for nobles, or something?”
“Something,” Bryne said, moving his hand to grip Rhys’ arm to help him out of bed.
The moment Rhys’ feet touched the floor, he grimaced like spikes were stabbing his feet, and scraping their way up his legs. It alleviated some as he bent and stretched his knees a few times, but ultimately, he didn’t dare slide off the cot.
“Maybe I’ll bring food to you instead,” he said.
Rhys nodded, sighing as the captain let go and left him alone. Alone to think. That was dangerous as worries plagued him, especially as a man who was constantly working his worries away. He didn’t have that opportunity right now, and more than ever, he missed having a hammer in his hand, pounding away at steel. I can’t make money as a student in some academy, can I? he thought, running a tense hand down his face. I need to find some form of leverage here.
Hardly a moment later, Bryne returned with a kitchen hand in tow. She carried a tray, a plate full of protein atop it. The smell of the meat alone made Rhys’ stomach growl loudly.
“Hungry?” Bryne chuckled as the kitchen hand in black set the tray on the nightstand before making her way out.
“You could say that,” Rhys said. He shifted in his cot, reaching for the plate, which the captain just ended up retrieving for him.
“I ordered an extra set of guards to come,” he said.
“To keep me from running?”
“To protect you,” Bryne sighed, “and to keep you from running. You’re far too important now.”
My leverage, Rhys noted, chewing on his chicken slowly. Part of him worried that if he ate too fast after so many days without food, he’d not retain it.
“After you’re finished eating, bathed, and properly clothed, I will present you to the king.”
Rhys froze. The king? “Do all manacasters see the king?” he asked, then shook his head. No, this stunk of special treatment, or worse.
“Only the most prominent, and usually the queen, but the king returned from war for the second princess’ Coming of Age Ceremony,” Bryne said. “He’ll be very keen to meet you. I’ll have an appointment set with him this afternoon, along with the dean.”
“Who are you?” Rhys furrowed his brow.
“Captain of the Manacaster Safeguard Force for the Academy of Divinities, assigned by King Arnall himself. You'll be my charge from henceforth.” Bryne clasped his hands behind his back as two knights entered the room, taking up posts on either side of the only exit. The captain gave a nod to them before looking back at Rhys. “I'll be reporting your progression through the academy personally.”