We went home with a mixture of terror, panic, excitement, and hope. We muddled our way through a quiet meal of day-old bread and some sausage, unable to find the wherewithal to do anything more. We ate mostly in silence, the worry communicated in posture and glances more than anything else. Nobody wanted to talk, I was wrapped up in the possibilities of fame and fortune, but those would alternate with the frightening potential for death and a shallow grave to keep this discovery quiet. Sleep had been difficult to come by, and peace of mind was not to be found at all. Changing yourself is hard, thinking you might change the world? Electrifying. Horrifying. Thrilling. Nauseating. The whole gamut of emotions runs through me in a continuing cycle until I finally manage to find some solace in sleep.
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Twoday came. Got up, ate, went to work. Henrig acted like nothing had changed, so I followed that lead. And the day dragged on and on and on. I wanted answers and certainty. I knew that we weren't going to get them, because this had so much potential for disruption. More resilient population at a minimum, but also the potential for military applications was huge. I could fix minor injuries to myself quickly and with about the same effort as running a short sprint. I'd recover in a few minutes.
Major injuries remained untested. Some things I'm not willing to try, so I'm not cutting off my fingertip for science. Maybe if I could prove that it would heal mathematically, but that equation had too many unknowns. Cuts normally heal. I can accelerate that. Fingertips don't just grow back normally, so I don't know that I can fix it. But that's not really relevant, that's just me trying to keep my mind off of the whole mess. There's nothing in either life that prepared me to be involved in something like this. I'm not sure what you can do to be ready for or nonplussed by this kind of event.
I avoided talking to Henrig other than direct work issues, and he did the same. It was like we both understood if we opened that can, all the worms would fly out like a spring-loaded practical joke. So. We focused on work, and managed to get through the day. We cleaned up and closed up in a mostly companionable silence, despite the palpable tension in the air, because we'd done the process enough to not really need to interact.
We finished up just a few minutes after my parents arrived at the store. We nodded at them, they nodded back. We started walking, probably looking like we were heading to an execution. The silence and tension was getting extremely thick when my stomach decided to speak up for me, gurgling loudly with a prolonged rumbling sound.
"I think that translates to 'when's dinner?'" my dad interjected.
Then, instead of tension, laughter surrounded us, far more than the events deserved, mine maybe a little more forced and my face may not have been red solely from the laughter, but the tension faded quite a bit, and normal idle conversation resumed as we walked to supper. Brilliant man, my dad, excellent with people.
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We entered the house, finding Wilhena and Jenlict waiting, but Haldon and Sevria, the elder Halgershien couple, were not there.
"Your parents unwell, Henrig?"
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"No, Grint, just dining alone tonight. I didn't want to involve them, they're less political than I am. Just Wilhena and Jenlict will be joining us this evening."
"Jenlict?" my mother inquired.
"Yes, his family has been serving my family for long enough to have plenty of insight into political maneuvers. You'd be surprised how much gets done behind the scenes, and how much unappreciated servants gossip. Jenlict and his family have been instrumental in keeping my line alive."
"Thank you, ma'am. You're most kind. Let us adjourn to the dining room, dinner is ready. Grint, we have the iced citrus tea you enjoyed last time, would you like that again?"
"Yes, please."
"And you sir?" Jenlict asked my father.
"The tea sounds lovely."
"For me as well," my mother chimed in.
"Excellent, I'll get those right away."
"So, the staff will serve the dinner, then we'll have some time in the library for more weighty discussions uninterrupted." Henrig looked at us expectantly. Mom and I nodded.
"Sounds fantastic to me," dad replied.
"Then let us proceed." Henrig led the way into the dining room, where we were served an excellent meal of braised duck with roasted vegetables and a light pudding for dessert. The tension built a bit during the meal, keeping the conversation muted and focused on trivia. The food settled poorly in my stomach, despite being a wonderful dance of flavors on my tongue, so I didn't have more than my original serving this time.
Finally, Henrig looked a Wilhena, who nodded, then spoke. "Let us adjourn to the Library, then. I understand that you have a demonstration for me, and then we'll have much to discuss. Henrig has been tight-lipped on what this is about, save that it deals with politics beyond his ken. I confess, I am fascinated to discover what this is about!"
"Jenlict, would you bring a small, sharp knife to the library? And a clean rag? You'll want to see this demonstration, too." Henrig interjected, and then we all followed Wilhena to the library, Jenlict arriving mere moments later with the requested supplies.
"If you'd just hold those on your open palms, please, Jenlict. Dad, if you'll get them from him now?" I looked at Wilhena. "You'll want to watch this, it's the lesser thing we will demonstrate tonight. Dad got the hint, and the items rose into the air and came over to me, mostly in a straight line. I grabbed the knife, and left the rag in the air next to me. Wilhena's face was shocked, but rapidly turned whiter when I jabbed the knife into the meat of my palm.
"What are you doing, dearie!"
"You'll see the greater thing in a moment. Trade me, dad." I opened my hand, and my dad pulled the small knife back into the air and over to his hand, Wilhena's eyes following the motion, then returning to me and my injured hand when I grabbed the floating cloth and pressed it into my palm. After the rag had soaked up the blood for a heartbeat, I started focusing on my healing power. I could have healed a bit faster without the theatrics, but I wanted the bloody knife and the rag as physical evidence, to serve as a focal point for the coming discussions. A few heartbeats later, the itching in my palm came to a stop, and gave it one last wipe clean and held it out to Wilhena.
"Oh, dearie…. How…. What…." She took a deep, shuddering breath, "what have you done?"
"Discovered that magic isn't quite what we're taught it is, or what we thought it is. We've still got some research going into harnessing it, but that research all seems to have the wrong focus. Magic, it's just so much more than we think. Let me explain, no, there is too much, let me sum up, then we can get into the details if you want them..."