69 – Inner developments

Sir Westys decided it was time to feign weakness to lower Ishrin’s guard. Despite the man’s apparent lack of power, Sir Westys had seen what his rituals could do once he put in the work, and had some help. And Sir Westys was not stupid. His father had taught him well, to never underestimate his opponents and let pride blind him. Thus, he decided on the course of action to follow, not much realizing that pride was still blinding him, although in a way that he did not see. For there was no need to pretend to be weak, when he was struggling to dodge and slither around the traps that littered the strange marble-like floor of this part of the cave system.

“You will never learn how to actually put in the work!” The boy said, taunting. “There will come a day when your rituals will be useless, and then—”

Suddenly a loud clang, and the horrifying scream of metal being bent and twisted. Sir Westys turned around slowly, carefully, and his eyes followed the scream that had filled the air of the tight tunnel. His teammates were also stunned, all of them looking at the figure of Tom. There was a giant spike jutting out of a wall, where there were supposed to be no traps and the path was supposed to be safe. It had sprung out in an instant at incredible speed, hitting the boy and piercing his shield, his armor and… not his flesh? There was no blood dribbling out of the torn metal, and Tom was stunned; not in pain or immobilized by a wound, but in shock.

On the other end of the room Ishrin was holding out a hand, palm open. He lazily moved his arm, and the spike began to shake, forcing itself back in the wall against the mechanisms that had pushed it out. It was forced back in by an invisible hand, with a violence that was so great that the whole wall was damaged and cracks spread from where the spike now laid crooked and misshapen.

Looking at Ishrin with disbelief, the boy was forced to change his opinion of the man once again, and his plans with it. A thin sheen of sweat beaded on his brow, light enough not to be noticed by his teammates and escorting team, but still more than enough to make him feel uncomfortable. In his chest, his heart was a thunderous beast that he could not tame into a steadier rhythm. For a moment, his resolve faltered, until he set his eyes upon the man’s seemingly plain sword. It could be his, along with many riches promised to his father by the mysterious man who commanded an much greater power alone than the whole of Semiluminal—present company included—combined. The sword, he realized, would only be an appetizer.

Emboldened by the slimy fingers of greed, Sir Westys steeled his resolve. He had power over Ishrin, he knew, and he had heard them man himself talk about how the crystals made him struggle with his magic and protective shields. It was only a matter of waiting for the right moment to act.

Ishrin was scowling, though. His face was a tiny mask of displeasure at the far end of the room, too far for his features to be visible beyond a simple caricature of the man’s emotions that was nonetheless enough to make a man question what he was going to do next. Power seemed to collect around him, and even though the quantity of the power was still that of a Tier 3 cultivator, below even Sir Westys own power, there was a quality to it that made his mana quiver. It even had an effect on the Tier 6 warriors of his team.

“So, how about you let the fucking grown-ups decide how to handle the expedition?” Ishrin said, voice angry, and even Sir Westys who didn’t know him could tell that something had angered him way beyond normal and that now was not the time for a rebuttal. He swallowed his pride and listened. “I let you play around, to gain field experience, you know? That’s quite enough now. Get your arrogant asses sorted, I’m coming, and you are going to get this ritual applied to you.”

Any goodwill that the boy could have harbored towards Ishrin vanished in a moment. He gripped his sword tight, until his knuckles were almost devoid of blood, and tried to calm himself. Goodwill was gone, yes, but the impression that Ishrin’s power had made on his mind was not.

Patience. Not yet. Not yet.

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***

It was time later, and with the whole matter of the noble brat well out of his mind that Ishrin approached Melina during one of their rest periods. The youngsters were doing much better, now that they protected by the ritual, and even though having such protections would mean that they learned nothing from their delve—and in fact they would develop bad habits—it was better than seeing them die in front of his eyes. Of them all, only one deserved to die perhaps, and it just so happened that he was also the only one who they had to protect at all costs. Besides, it was too much like old Ishrin to wish for an annoying person to die, or to even kill them himself. He was a better man now.

Although the urge, which he quickly traced back to Lucius’ soul fragments, was there.

“It’s definitely her.” Ishrin said. “Melina, she’s alive… She’s alive! I can feel her, she’s close… so close.”

Melina’s golden eyes grew wide, and wet. “This is wonderful!” she said, and her words had the weight to them of someone who was about to break down in tears.

“I just need to reach her. I need to focus more.”

He was sitting cross legged now, on the floor with the roaring blaze of the fire barely an afterthought in his mind’s eye. They had stopped again, in a room without traps not because there weren’t any but because a destructive force had disabled them all—and it had not been Ishrin, as the slashes in the walls showed. It had either been wind magic, or the effect of very sharp twin blades, it was hard to tell, as both people who had the two different fighting styles had promised to help clear the room once they heard that Ishrin might be close to finding her.

The boys in the other room were restless, demanding they go deeper in the maze until they found the actual ruins of Tiamat Azur, but Lisette was quite effective at placating them, not with diplomacy but with sheer presence alone, sometimes with the addition of a side glare with her red, bloody eyes. It was a dangerous sight, and rarely did those who witnessed it survive.

Melina checked on Ishrin from time to time, and Lisette too hovered around the meditating man, claiming interest in the way his magic moved. Both of them shot glances at each other whenever they passed each other at the threshold, where a silencing barrier had been erected as not to disturb Ishrin’s meditation.

“Why do you always watch him so closely, do you like him perhaps?” Melina teased, immediately regretting it. She was not an adolescent fox anymore, and yet she was behaving like one.

“The way his magic moves is fascinating.” Lisette said stiffly.

“Well,” Melina said, blushing before the next words even left her mouth, “I personally find the way you move when you fight… fascinating.”

If that had not been enough, the long stare she received from the girl made her go completely red. But she held her gaze, somehow, surprising even herself.

“Thank you,” Lisette said, still stiff. She was lightly fidgeting with her fingers in a way that would be imperceptible to all, except that Melina knew her well enough to tell. “I… like you… too, I suppose.”

There was silence. “It was a compliment,” Lisette clarified, now devoid of emotion, as if she had spent it all to say just the one sentence, “like yours was.”

Melina nodded with a smile, unable to really say anything. She was surprised, flustered, blushing and… many other things she struggled to identify. But most of all, she now wanted to know whether Lisette liked her more than his magic, than him, while at the same time dreading the answer. What if she did not?

And what if she did? Melina herself did not know what she wanted.

She must have voiced the question out loud, though, because Lisette cocked her head at her. As if she was struggling to understand.

“Why would I have to choose who I like more?” Lisette asked, not knowing how close she had come to Melina’s own struggles. “It’s not as if my admiration is a limited resource. I can like you, and also like him.” Then, much lower, she added: “although I doubt there would really be space for someone else, so perhaps you are right.”

Then Melina was onto her, wrapping her in a tight hug. She went stiff, and Melina quickly disentangled herself to give her some space, red as a beet.

“I actually feel the same about you two,” the fox-girl said with a blooming smile, “it’s like there is space for you two in my heart and nobody else. I was just being silly to worry like that, I guess.”

She said that, but she had no idea whether Lisette’s feelings were romantic or platonic, and the new question seemed to now burn more than the old one ever did. Because now that she had taken the first step, she knew that it would be up to her to keep going, taking care not to spook Lisette in the process. Although, perhaps Lisette would surprise her again.

Then there was Ishrin. Another question mark. He had told her about their relationship, but the whole premise had changed, had it not? But would there really be space in his heart for not one, but two people? Because Melina did not think she could take no as an answer now.

Managing a Guild was easier than this.