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Rebirth of the Great Sages
8. Theronhold Part Two

8. Theronhold Part Two

“My affinity? But I still can’t use magic.”

“Lesson one.” My mentor raised a finger up as if emphasizing a point. “Everything, and I mean everything, has a magical affinity. Mages, non-mages, cats, dogs, rocks. Everything.”

“Like, everything?”

“Everything-everything.” My mentor confirmed. “And it’s important we start determining what yours is.”

“Wait, though-” I crossed my arms as I felt my brows bridge together. “-won’t I be able to use every form of magic if I’m training to become a Sage?”

“You’re not training to become a Sage, you’re taking after their inspiration and learnings, but your path will not always be that of a Sage. Make sure you understand that now.” My mentor swooshed his hand through the air, a large bubble appearing as he did. “And anyway, being a Sage has nothing to do with using every form of magic.”

“But I saw Sara- I saw the Sage Above All use every form and even deviant magic.”

“Because the Sage Above All likely was capable of using every form in her past life, and however she constructed her reincarnation spell, it likely caused that capability to manifest in her future vessel.”

Suddenly it clicked. Why Sarah, who had never had a proper magic tutor, had been so capable of developing control of every form of the base elements of wild magic.

“Sarah was engineered, you’re saying.”

“I can’t know for sure.” My mentor shrugged, the two of us getting off-topic from the initial conversation. “But if I had to guess, the reincarnation magic she utilized likely transmitted her identity as magical data through the timestream, into it fully manifested in the form of your friend. I wouldn’t doubt that the spell also allowed her to control some of the specifics of the body, the vessel she would reincarnate into.”

“But what about-”

“Enough.” My mentor silenced me with a wave of his hand. “In truth, I know little more than what you do. There is little point to circling around this subject more than we have.”

“Right.” The word came out more bitter than I had intended, and I could see as my mentor noticed it but chose to ignore it.

“Back to the subject at hand. Your affinity. While you may not be capable of using magic in an external sense, you have tapped into magic, what with that stunt you pulled before, your imitation of integration.”

“Ruptured Body.” I added.

“Ruptured body?”

“Uh, yeah. I call it Ruptured body because it feels like my body ruptures after.”

“Interesting.” My mentor nodded before continuing with his lecture. “Your ‘Ruptured Body’ would fall under internal magic, magic that works from within the body.”

“I could guess that.”

“Watch it, smart ass. I watched how you did it, pulling the magical elements and activating different parts of your body in stages. It wasn’t actual magic; you simply used it to kick start your body to an extreme level, but the fact that you managed that tells me you understand the different elemental affinities that exist, at least at the base level.”

I nodded, recalling when I had first noticed it when I had been bathing in the river and called out to Aulous, feeling a uniquely vigorous stirring compared to every time I had attempted to call out to magic before.

“Well, since you can touch and recognize mana at its base element and not merely as a slurry or soup of power, we can work on your affinity.”

“Tell me again why this is important?” I scratched at my nose, having gotten lost in his spiel.

“Taxing kid. You’re taxing. Everything has an affinity.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that several times now.”

“But not everything can utilize every magic or even magic plain and simple.”

“Yeah.”

“So, by learning of your primary affinity, we can narrow the direction your future progression as a pseudo-Sage will take. If you invest too heavily in something that isn’t your affinity, you will only hinder your growth.”

“I think I understand.” I nodded, the concept easy enough to grasp. “So, how do we find my affinity then?”

My mentor held up three fingers. “There are several methods. The first and slowest is the circulation of mana through your body’s core, the conceptual center of your being.”

“That sounds confusing.”

“Because it is. I can’t help you there. As a magical beast, my body is interwoven with mana from birth; we have no conceptual core of our body. Therefore we will diverge from the standard path where you would slowly create a magical center within you, something most mages do, which would inherently gift you an understanding of your affinity.”

“Wait, but isn’t that how mages become stronger? Their core?” I faintly recalled both my mother and Sarah talking about a ‘core’ within themselves and how it allowed them to store mana on the go.

“Normally.” My mentor nodded. “But I reckon that won’t be a problem for you.”

“Why?”

“Because Sages diverge from standard mages. Sages develop rings that act as markers and status symbols of their development as Sages. Ordinarily, Sages would utilize a core much like anyone else, but I believe we can take their rings and bend them to fit our needs.”

“Are you saying we use the rings to store mana instead of a core?”

“A simplified explanation, but yes, you would be correct.”

I scratched at my chin as I thought of an idea.

“Why not both? Why don’t I form a core and my rings?”

“Because your body itself seems at odds with magic, with mana, in the traditional sense. From what I’ve seen of you and your attempts at drawing on mana, it rejects external mana. Your genetic disposition to Kin magic is likely the reason.”

“Why could I pull in mana for my Ruptured Body then?”

“Because you weren’t utilizing it as mana, you were using it as a bodily catalyst.”

“Right. So no core then.”

“No core.” My mentor confirmed.

“What about the other two methods you mentioned for finding my affinity?”

“Ah, right.” My mentor wove his arm through the air, where another bubble joined the first. “The second method is through the usage of Standing Stones.”

“Standing Stones?”

“Yes. Towering stones that you gradually fill with large amounts of mana. The body’s natural inclination towards an affinity will be made apparent when accumulated in such amounts in the standing stone.”

“And why aren’t we doing that?”

“Time and ability. It requires filling with an amount of mana that, frankly, a new mage will take a considerable amount of time to move about. But, as we have gone over how your body seems to reject external mana being drawn-”

“I wouldn’t be able to use it in the first place.” I said with a sigh.

“Correct.” My mentor slashed his arm through the air for the third time as a third giant bubble appeared.

“So the third method.” Seeing the bubbles float around, I was beginning to feel nervous. “Does it have to do with these bubbles?”

“My affinity is with Kinzar, with Force.” My mentor continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “My secondary affinity is with Scorz, with fire.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“When Force meets Fire in the Kinzar direction, it forms the deviant magic of Scozar, of Burst.”

“Why are you avoiding my question?”

“Further, if you take the deviant magic of Scozar, of Burst, but contain it within Aulous, within water, you end up with the composite magic of AulScozar, bubble magic.”

“Composite magic?” I was momentarily distracted, having never heard the term before.

“Now, why would I explain all of this? Thank you for asking my apprentice.”

“I didn’t ask, though.” I interrupted.

“Because-” My mentor continued once again as if he hadn’t heard me. “-the third method for finding an affinity is through elemental abrasion.”

“I don’t like where this is going.” I said, nervously glancing at the bubbles.

“So what is elemental abrasion, you may be asking yourself? Elemental abrasion is just that; by harshly exposing your body to an element of wild magic, your body will respond. This is even more effective when done with deviant magic, and finally best done with composite magic because it contains three elements within it.”

“These bubbles then-” Before I had the chance to finish my sentence, one of the bubbles shot through the air, slamming into and inside me.

The pain was instant, like a thousand sparks of lightning firing off in every direction from within me.

“Hmm. Good. Your primary affinity is with one of three elements contained within that bubble.”

I was at a loss for words, dropping to the ground as my body involuntarily shook from the pain.

“In case you’re wondering, if you had an affinity for none of the prior three elements contained within the bubbles I made, it would have simply slammed into you and not have been absorbed.”

I groaned, coughing up spit and blood. I had bitten into my tongue as the pain had torn through me.

“You can probably understand why this method isn’t used often.” My mentor had crouched down, poking me as I groaned in subsiding agony.

I wanted to curse the man out, but spoken words eluded me, my brain still reeling from what I had just endured.

“Now, the difficult part about Kinzar is that the deviant forms born of it are either conceptual magic, don’t really work in the way we need them to work for this, or are too aggressive, too dangerous for this. Next, I’ll hit you with Scorlous. but I warn you, this one will probably hurt more.”

One of the two remaining bubbles floated over towards his hands and holding a hand out underneath the bubble, the bubble popped, turning into a deluge of greenish-looking water instead.

“When you subtract the force aspect of AulScozar, you are left with the elements of Aulous and Scorz. If I struck you with the Scorz variant of the deviant pair, it would form oil, which wouldn’t be very useful-”

Being covered in oil sounded unpleasant, but it couldn’t have been worse than the bubble entering me.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“-since oil, Aulorz, isn’t useful, I’ll use its reversal, Scorlous.”

Right. The bubble didn’t pop into oil.

“Scorlous, if you’re curious, is acid.”

He’s going to kill me!

I wanted to struggle, to worm away from him, but I was still lying prone as he stood over me. The small puddle of green in his palm slowly poured over me. It was as if I watched the first drops fall towards me in slow motion.

I’m going to die.

I would love to say I took the ensuing torture like a champ, but the reality was that I did not.

I passed out even before the first drop hit me.

-------------------------------------------

I was laid out on the bed, a wet cloth placed on my forehead when I came to.

“Uhck. What happened?” I groaned, rolling over to my side. My memories were jarring, a world of pain fractured by explosions of lights in my head like I’d been given a concussion.

Wait…

“That’s right, you hit me with magic.” I swung out of bed as fast as I could, looking for the familiar figure of my mentor, but he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, what I did see, was a note placed on the nightstand next to the bed.

Going out. Go play with a ball or something in the meantime.

That was it. That was all the note said.

“Ass.” I muttered as I crumpled the note up. Things were coming back to me more clearly. We had been attempting to figure out my affinity when I had passed out in response to the pain of what he had done to me.

Using magic on me is what he did.

As much as I wanted to grumble and complain, and trust me, I was doing enough of that, I was still alive at the least, so my mentor wasn’t lying when he said he knew what he was up to.

Now what?

He had told me before he would be taking some time to meet up with people for things, but he hadn’t said much more other than to go distract myself in the meantime.

What are you supposed to do when you visit a city you’ve never been to?

Duh. Sight See.

First things first, though- I sniffed at my clothes, only just now noticing the scent hanging around them -I need to get myself something clean to wear after all this traveling.

A semblance of a first step in mind, I made my way towards the main pub area of the inn, locking the door behind me even though there was nothing of ours left in the room anyway. As I entered the main lobby, the light shining in from the window told me it must have been early in the morning.

Just how much time passed after I passed out?

“Excuse me.” I sat down at the counter, catching the attention of the same bartender from yesterday.

“Ahh, if it isn’t the kid.”

“Eric. My name’s Eric.” I gave her the made-up identity that I had thought up with my mentor.

“Kid, Eric, makes little difference.” The lady shrugged. “What is it?”

“Uhh, where is the nearest bathhouse here?”

“Smart choice. You remembered I said we don’t pay for clean water here.” The woman smiled at me as if impressed that I had retained such a casual information drop.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.” I responded after a moment of faked laughter.

I hadn’t. It was just that I had grown up used to bathhouses being the norm in small villages such as Junaper.

“Well, all the nearest bathhouses aren’t much better than here. I suggest you make your way to at least Garyol street. They got some… decent ones there at least.”

“Right. Thanks.” I flashed her a smile that I hoped was anywhere near as charming as my mentor’s before I made my way towards the inn’s door, walking out and into the still rising morning sun.

Now then, one problem.

“Where is Garyol street?” I whispered out, my words hanging as white vapor in the morning air.

-----------------------------------------

It took me four hours to make it to Garyol street, a journey that should only have taken half an hour at best.

Four hours.

My feet hurt like hell, but I’d done it.

Sort of.

It turns out that having come from not just a tiny village, but living outside of said small village, my experience with traversing a place like a city was…. Less than great. I’d asked for directions dozens of times, and I’d purposely been sent the wrong direction more than once. I was tired, my feet were aching, and I felt more and more conscious of the scent clinging to my clothes.

Didn’t realize it was that bad.

But, I had made it. Garyol street was lain out in a sprawl before me, a strange mix of stone and wooden buildings with chimneys spouting out columns of steam from many of the buildings on the street. Overhead, crisscrossed electrical wires ran from pole to pole, supplying the basic electrical needs of the city’s people. In Junaper, we had no electricity, but I’d known that in the big cities, they would generate electricity, allowing for things like heated indoor baths and even lights that burned no fuel. There were magical means of providing those, but they were often more expensive, only available to the wealthy.

Or so what I’d heard from traveling merchants or the like when they found their way to Junaper and told stories of the bigger cities. It was still my first time seeing anything like it, so to see the wires crossing overhead for the duration of my stay in the city so far had been confusing for my brain to process.

Aside from the material makeup of the buildings collected on the street, I noticed that for every place with a chimney billowing steam, the sure sign of a bathhouse, there was a wrinkled tin awning stretching out from in front of the establishment, usually a person or two standing there shouting at any who would listen.

“ Sea and Shanty, for your refreshing needs!”

“ Mountain Spring, water brought all the way from, you guessed it, mountain springs!”

“ The Morning Daisy, to get you smelling like a morning daisy!”

On and on, I heard them shout, but those shouts drove me away. I walked through the street with my head low, trying not to catch any of their attention as I shuffled about awkwardly.

Finally, towards the end of the street, I found it. A place, clearly a bathhouse given the steaming chimney, where there was no one shouting. I cautiously directed myself towards the open doorway, stepping in and out from the sun beating down from the street.

The inside was bare. A single counter with a man stood behind it, a doorway past him off to his side.

“You want a bath?”

“Uh, yeah?” I hesitantly walked closer, standing next to the counter. “I also need my clothes washed.”

“Hmph.” The man grunted, bending beneath the counter before pulling out a basket and handing it to me.

“Right, thanks.” I nodded, beginning to step past and towards the doorway to the baths, when a meaty arm was stuck out and in my way.

“Money.”

“Oh. Money. Right. Yeah.” I nervously patted myself down, feeling for any of my coins until my heart dropped.

I had none on me.

I felt my eyes narrow as I began to piece together what had probably happened.

Master.

“It, I, uh, forgot my money.” I laughed nervously, trying once more to step past. “I’ll make sure to pay you next time.”

A thick heavy hand slammed into my chest, pushing me back as the man looked down at me from the ground where I had fallen.

“Money.”

“Please.” I stood up, brushing myself off. “Just, I really need a bath.”

“Money.”

“I’ve got nothing. I told you that already.” I tried my best to say calm, pushing the words out through my grit teeth.

“Money or this will get messy.” The man had begun to reach his hand into the overly tight vest he wore, reaching towards what I understood immediately as the outline of a weapon.

“Whoa.” I raised one hand as my other swept inside my traveling cloak, reaching for the hilt of my sword.

Except, it, much like my money, wasn’t there.

Damnit, master. Really?

My bravado began to quickly disappear as I realized I had no means of defending myself.

Why hadn’t I noticed in over four hours of walking around that my sword was missing?

Because I was distracted by all the sights.

I realized it after a second, groaning inwardly as I realized how stupid I had been.

Not like understanding that would help me any.

“Sir, just, can I please take-”

I was cut off midsentence as a person pushed past me, dumping several pench on the counter.

“Just let him take a damned bath, Hotch.”

The beefy man raised his equally burly eyebrows at the newcomer who had shoved past me.

“I-” I had been about to speak up for myself when the newcomer whirled around to face me.

“And you-!” A finger was jabbed into my chest as the newcomer stared me down with dazzling jade-colored eyes. “What sort of idiot goes around without any sort of money?”

I raised my hands up in half surrender, half surprise. “I, well, I’m new around here.”

“Yeah, I can see that, Mr. New Guy.” The girl huffed once, her cheeks filling with air before she grabbed me by the wrist, tugging me along. “Come on already. And don’t forget your damned basket.”

I nodded quickly, snatching up the basket as she yanked me past the bathhouse worker, through the open doorway, and into the room beyond.

It was a small room with a single curtain leading toward the actual bathing room. Within the small room were several lockers for clothes, though since my clothes needed to be washed, I would be placing them within the basket I had been given where they would be picked up from the designated placement spot off to the side.

“Uhh, thanks.” I muttered as I quickly began to disrobe, keeping my eyes glued to the ground as I ignored the fact that the girl, a few years older than myself from what I could guess, was disrobing behind me as well.

“I just couldn’t watch that any longer.”

“You were watching?”

“I could hear it all from outside.”

“Oh.”

I was silent as I let it process, allowing the thoughts to turn over one another.

“Anyway, what’s your name?” I asked aloud, feeling it was rude to not bother asking the name of the person who had helped me out.

Silence.

“H-hello?” I finally forced my eyes up from the ground to see if the girl was still there.

She, of course, was not.

“Right.” I shook my head. Of course, she wouldn’t just wait around for me. She had already helped me out; there was no point in sticking around for conversation in a disrobing room.

With a quick sigh that wasn’t entirely devoid of regret, I finished tossing my clothes in the basket, heading towards the bathing rooms, split by gender as you left from the disrobing area. I made my way into the men’s bathing area, where there were two main community baths, one cold and one hot, as well as several smaller hygiene stations meant for if you were exceptionally dirty and needed to take an initial cleansing dip before heading into either of the bathes.

Initially, I made my way towards the large community baths, before on second thought, directing myself towards one of the smaller tubs, which I promptly plopped into.

I had bathed in rivers as we traveled from Junaper here. Still, the fact of the matter was that rivers weren’t great for a thorough cleansing, especially when one was regularly traveling through woods.

A fact I was reminded of as I saw the water begin to turn a darker shade than when I had stepped in.

Ew.

I sniffed at myself once more, but I was nose blind to my own odor without my clothes. Thankful that I was alone, I dipped my head under, scrubbing at any hard-to-get areas before standing back out of the now admittedly dirtier tub. I was at least clean enough now to finish my bath in the larger community tubs. Directing myself towards the heated one, evident from the slight shimmer in the air above it, I poked a toe in.

Thank the lords and gods above.

It was blessedly warm, and without another thought or moment of hesitation, I splashed the rest of the way in, resting my head back on the bath wall as I let out a sigh of contentment.

In Junaper, I would head to the community bathhouse once every three days. Otherwise, I’d wash off in the nearby stream on the days I didn’t head into town. I had always enjoyed my time in the heated bathe, something I figured I got from my mother, given she would head into town every day just for that.

Mom.

The thought of my mother made my moment of relaxation turn bitter as my mind drifted toward her.

Where was she right now? Was she okay? When would I next see her?

So many questions, but with little in the department of answers.

I thought back to the first memory of my mother when I was a child no older than three. She held me on her knee, watching me as if I were the most precarious but precious thing in the entire world.

“My little Rook. For you, I would run to the ends of the world.”

I smiled sadly at the faint memory. In a way, that was exactly what she had chosen to do. After the incident with the Sage Hunter deciding to take my mother, it was evident the following week that something had been bothering her. Had I known, I would have told her it was okay, that it wasn’t her fault.

But I hadn’t, and she had decided to put distance between us, at least for now, out of fear that she would endanger me again.

“Stupid mom.” I bubbled as my head sank partially beneath the water.

It wasn’t her fault the Sage Hunter had been there.

If anything, I was more at fault. I wasn’t the same as Sara- as the Sage Above All, but I was still supposed to be one of the Sages, which the Sage Hunter was after.

I, or rather the Sage who had meant to reincarnate through me, had just failed.

Reincarnation. You would think I would be more powerful for it. Instead, I get handicapped.

I sighed, or rather I bubbled as my mouth was still under the water, as I thought about it.

Reincarnation. What a foreign idea. You would hear about it in tales or legends of old, stories of heroes that were supposed to rise one day to face an ancient darkness or dragon or whatever, but those were all nothing more than legends.

Fairy tales.

This, this was real. The act of an unimaginably powerful person from long ago. Deciding that they would be reborn far into the future rather than die naturally.

It had only cost me my very best friend.

And my ability to use magic normally, I guess.

Growing tired of my toxic thoughts, I grabbed a nearby bar of soap. If I couldn’t chase them away, I would simply scrub my body, and hopefully my mind, raw.

--------------------------------------------------

“ ‘Yer clothes.”

“Thanks. And, uh, sorry about earlier.”

“Bring money next time, and we won’t have a problem.”

The beefy man left my clothes, now clean, in a basket next to me. Seeing it, I decided it was about time I got out of the bath,

Starting to prune anyways.

Clambering out, I found a towel and dried myself off as much as possible before making my way to the changing room, throwing on my now freshly cleaned clothes.

Well, now what?

I had only planned to take a bath, but now that I had gotten my bath, I was fresh out of ideas.

Guess I can figure it out as I go along.

I nodded to myself, heading towards the doorway out of the changing area. The main lobby of the bathing house was empty as before, but I could tell I’d spent something like an hour in the bath, given how the sun’s rays now shone through the windows of the small entrance.

I should get some food.

Satisfied with the idea, I walked out of the building until I promptly stopped, palming my forehead in exasperation with myself.

“Idiot.” I groaned. “I still don’t have money.”

I would be stuck starving until I next saw my master at this rate.

“Well-” A voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts from directly to my left, causing me to jump in surprise. “-that sure sounds like a problem.”

I turned to face the source of the voice, and I was once again greeted with the dazzling emerald-eyed stare of the girl from before.

“Oh. Hi.” I wasn’t sure what else to say or do, so I opted to wave, an awkward half-hearted motion.

I don’t even know her name.

I was about to ask for her name when the girl, about eighteen or so, stuck her hand out towards me.

“Scyla.”

“Uh, Rook.” I gripped her hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you.”

I took a moment to examine the girl. When she had grabbed my wrist earlier, I was so surprised that I hadn’t noticed much of anything. She had a bob of hair that ended just above her shoulders. The bottom ends were dyed a dark blue that seamlessly flowed with the rest of her natural black hair. She wore a choker made of matte white beads, and she wore a sheik black silk bodysuit with a blue overcoat over it, lined with white fur.

That is not the look of someone who should be hanging out with me.

In contrast, I had my simple black traveling pants, a dark grey tunic with dark green trim, and my worn traveling cloak.

She could easily have been a noble’s daughter, except the look wasn’t quite right, wilder, and more reckless than what would be allowed from a noble’s daughter.

“Who are you?” I questioned, unable to stop the question from popping out.

The girl simply laughed, leaning against a post of the building as I noticed several nearby bathhouse hawkers staring at her or whispering amongst themselves.

“Scyla Eorial, heir of the Eorial Pleasure House.”