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Tipping the Scale
Chapter 5: The Past That Haunts Them (Part 1)

Chapter 5: The Past That Haunts Them (Part 1)

Many a theory exists on the origin of magic. Some hypothesize that the first beings to create it were the dragons. Others propose it to be older than the world itself, and the source from which all races sprouted. We might never know the answer as even the scholars of Hûldral, by far the most devoted to the study of magic, have failed to find any breakthroughs on the matter. Maybe it is a knowledge too old and too divine to be grasped by the human mind.

In contrast, the study of the nature of magic has proven itself to be a more fruitful endeavor. Only a winter before my writings in this book, researchers at the order of Ingemar found a spell to visualize the path taken by energy while bending water to one's will. They found magic users to extract the energy of nature, which was then converted within their own bodies. Supporting a theory proposed a century earlier by Sylvean of Dusarts and sir Lowrac Mirua Octova at the order of Terriath. They stated that all magic users were born with the ability to receive and convert natural energy. Explaining the heritability of the talent and going against the common thought for it to be a gift rewarded to those blessed by the gods.

Repeated studies on different types of magic are needed to help further understand this function of the body, but when achieved, it might lead to the most significant discoveries of our era. It might reveal why the gift is so often found in humans compared to the other humanoid races or even create the possibility for those with magic to change their magical nature while those without could even gain the ability.

Lidea reread the last sentence, struggling to comprehend what the author had meant by changing one's magical nature. After revisiting the section a third time, she gave up and hoped it would be clarified further on. Otherwise, it would have to be added to the steadily growing list of questions, which she had collected throughout her readings. In her foresight, Crystal had gifted her a small notebook when she had brought her the book.

Initially, Lidea had tried to refuse the valuable present, but Crystal had insisted. While she was grateful the ease with which they gave away such precious items to someone who was practically a stranger made her raise her eyebrows. Where were they getting their money from?

Even as a noble with full access to her late father's treasury, she had struggled to keep up with the costs of running her army. However, this didn’t seem to be an issue in the resistance camp.

As she attempted to read on, the words seemed blur, and her eyes stung from the strain. With a sigh, she let the book drop onto her chest and stared at the cracked ceiling above. She felt tired and knew she needed sleep, but she didn’t want to succumb to the darkness just yet. Her nightmares would be waiting, preventing her from getting any rest. They would lessen with time, or rather, she would grow accustomed to them until she could endure them without waking. Lidea couldn’t wait for that time to come, but until then, she used her lack of sleep to make considerable progress in the book the healer had handed her a week prior.

Her reading had started slowly. It had been a long time since she had read anything as long and intellectually demanding, and although Crystal had assured her that ‘The History and Peoples of Magic’ was one of the more recent additions to the collection, it was still written over a century ago.

Its prose was old-fashioned, and the author often referred to events of the time or assumed the reader to have a certain level of knowledge of the world. Despite its flaws, it quickly turned out to be Lidea’s greatest treasure. With every page, the professor revealed more of the world and introduced her to a way of thinking completely foreign to her own.

His first chapters primarily focused on the theory of magic itself and the history of its field of study. She had never even considered that people would dedicate their lives to understanding the thing called ‘magic’. For her, it simply existed, similar to how you wouldn’t question the being of a tree or lake. Some were able to use it, others did not but she had never stopped to ask why this was the case. It made her perceive the world from an entirely different perspective. She found herself marveling at things she had never considered before. For instance, the reason why she experienced water as being wet. It was such a mundane occurrence that she had never contemplated how she experienced the sensation, but perhaps someone out there had.

Propping the book up once again, she tried and failed to focus on the words as they seemed to dance off the page. Reluctantly, she set it aside, acknowledging that she had no choice but to try and sleep.

After she blew out the candle on her nightstand, she lay back and closed her eyes, hoping to find some relaxation.

Just as she began to drift away, whispers pulled her back to the waking world. They were so faint that she first thought them to be mere figments of her imagination. Half-awake, she strained her ears to listen to her surroundings, only to be jolted awake by a man's anguished cry. Instinctively, she leaped out of bed and swiftly emerged from her chamber of curtains. She could see the healer struggle to restrain a writhing figure on the bed. The man convulsed in agony, uttering words in an unfamiliar language. The scent of burning flesh pervaded the air as she hastened to assist Crystal. Coming closer, she recognized the man as Warchief. Sweat had matted his brown hair to his face, and wisps of steam seemed to rise from his body.

“How can I help?”

Unfazed by her sudden arrival, the healer maintained her focus on the patient.

"Help me roll him over and hold him still. But do not touch his back!"

Her voice sounded strained and Lidea nodded, although the healer didn’t wait for her confirmation to start rolling him over. Again, Warchief cried out in pain, slurring his words as he did so. His eyes were open and darted wildly around the room, yet he appeared oblivious to his surroundings.

The stench of seared flesh intensified as they turned him onto his stomach, causing Lidea to gag at the sight of his back. It was marred by both old scars and fresh burns, the latter going so deep that they bared the raw muscle underneath. Before she could ask what had happened, the healer hurried off to her desk. Thinking quickly, Lidea grabbed hold of Warchief's shoulders in an effort to immobilize him. Even using all of her strength, she struggled to prevent him from twisting his body.

Acting on instinct, she climbed onto the bed and straddled him. Placing a knee on each side of his hips and crossing her legs over his, while she shifted her weight onto her hands, which still clutched his shoulders. Finally, she was able to keep him from moving, though it required every ounce of her strength. She knew he was strong, but his power still took her by surprise. With gritted teeth, she turned her head to locate Crystal.

“I don’t know how long I can hold him!”

His body radiated uncomfortable heat, and she couldn't fathom why the burns were confined to only his back. As he resumed his agonized cries, she didn't need to understand the language to grasp the desperation and anger embedded within his words. Suddenly, his outbursts ceased, and the tension fled his muscles.

“You can let him go now, everything is fine.”

Lidea looked up at the healer, who stood holding an empty syringe. She could hear her own labored breathing as she released her grip on Warchief and descended from the bed. Crystal immediately moved in and started smearing a thick paste over his back. Lidea couldn’t help but stare as she worked.

Countless questions flooded her mind. What had just happened? How often was he like this? Did he always hurt himself? Lidea had assumed it was merely a nightmare, but the notion that his powers could turn against him in such a cruel manner was horrifying. Wasn't he supposed to be immune to his own abilities?

“Thank you for helping.”

Lidea didn't respond, too entranced by the man before her. His countenance had eased, and he appeared to be soundly sleeping. If she hadn't witnessed the ordeal, she might have believed that nothing had occurred. The healer wouldn’t answer her questions even if she asked them. Lidea could understand, it wasn’t her story and therefore not her place to tell. Still, she could only wonder what memories caused him to sound so desperate.

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“He will sleep now. Everything is fine. You can return to your own rest if you want.”

There was a finality to her words, and they shared a look. Both knew that Lidea wouldn’t sleep anymore but she knew when to take a hint. For whatever purpose, the healer wanted her to leave them alone. With a brief nod, she turned towards her personal cot to grab the book before leaving the infirmary and the riddle that was Warchief, behind.

Walking along the by-now familiar street that would bring her to the main building, she thought of a good spot to hide away until training would start. Her mind was still in turmoil, but she hoped reading would distract her. The commotion had swept away her tiredness, or maybe she had been able to nap a bit before she woke up. Looking at the glowing moss around her, she rather doubted it. Although there was no sunlight to indicate the hours, the moss seemed to simulate it by glowing brighter throughout the day than at night. As she was walking, it barely lighted the path in front of her feet, telling her that it was still around midnight.

Hearing the water below, she thought to follow the street down to the lowest level. Even though she had been here for over a week, the healer had been adamant about accompanying her and would object when she tried to exert herself too much. She understood her reasoning, but she also believed that her healing would go faster if she was allowed to push her body more than she was currently doing. It ruffled her feathers somewhat, that Crystal didn’t seem to trust her to know her own body and felt it necessary to keep a watchful eye on her.

Her decision made, she started to follow the winding road down. It was obvious even to the untrained eye that the shelter had been carefully planned instead of the spontaneous sprawl that had created the city above. The highest level consisted of greater buildings, seemingly built for communal purposes. They were the most decorated and if Lidea could gather a guess, she assumed them to have cost a fortune. The following level contained the training field after which the street was lined with houses that had names and symbols on their facades. She assumed most of the resistance had taken to living in these buildings as some showed signs of habitation. Looking at the names as she passed them, she recognized some as belonging to the old noble houses that had been cast out after Morto’s ban on magic. However, there was one that brought her to a standstill. At the end of the level, where the road would turn to go down to the next, an unassuming greyish-green house stood. Above its door, a shield had been engraved on which a boar was depicted together with the words ‘Résiste et Mords’.

Almost immediately Lidea felt as if she were standing in a garden. The sun warmed her skin and she was surrounded by blooming flowers. An older man with silver grey hair and harsh brown eyes looked down at her.

Remember little one, you might not carry my name but you are still a Chasseur. Keep your head up always, for we are like the boar we hunt. Holding our ground until the bitter end, long after others give up.

The memory of her grandfather was faint and quickly dissipated. She didn’t remember much about him. He hadn’t been a warm kind of man but rather strict and had died early in her childhood. Still, she would never forget the pride with which he had repeated his family's words. She would have never expected her mother’s family to be represented here as neither her mother nor the rest of her family had any magic. Had they once been part of the dragon order, but lost their talents through the generations? She hadn’t heard her family speak of it, but then again, would anyone dare make such a statement in current times?

The house didn’t seem to have obvious signs of someone living in it, nevertheless, she didn’t dare to enter without being sure that it wasn’t inhabited. Lidea didn’t know what she expected to find. If nobody was living there, whatever lay behind that door would have been gathering dust for decades by this point. Yet, her curiosity drove her to not leave any stone of information unturned. She made a mental note to ask Warchief about it later before continuing her way down.

The street became noticeably more narrow and the cobblestone made place for dirt as she entered the second lowest level. Here, the buildings were taller and less ornate. Build with the purpose of housing as many people as possible if nothing else. They reminded her of the apartment blocks that stood at the edge of the city center. Her tutor had once told her that they had been created from money given by the nobles. A sign of their goodwill and investment in the populace. She wondered if those same nobles had been involved in building the shelter, or maybe it had been the dragon order that had invested in the city above.

Going down the final loop, she could hear the gentle cascading of the river louder now. The last row of buildings consisted of only two levels each. The ground level was open and devoid of any rooms. One of them contained chairs and tables reminding her of the little cafés and teahouses that the nobles enjoyed so much in the city. She walked through the main floor to the other side which opened to a balcony overhanging the water, and had a clear view of the majestic main building that towered over the whole shelter.

Thinking she had found the perfect place, she dragged one of the tables and chairs over to the balcony and dusted it off before sitting down. Her breathing was slightly elevated but she didn’t feel the bone-harrowing exhaustion that she had felt before. Though she knew that it was likely to come on her way up, she ignored that worry for now.

At least the walk had helped to clear her brain of what had happened in the infirmary above. Instead, it was now filled with questions about the house that had belonged to her grandfather. Did her mother know that they came from a magical line? If that was the case, she hoped that she had warned her sister of it. Although rare, her child could be born with magic if she married another person with the talent in their bloodline.

She briefly thought to send her a letter but stopped herself. Why would she try to send a warning? Their mother was with her, if anyone would have to inform Alana, it was her.

Overlooking the water, she opened the book again and forced herself to start reading. Not long after, she wished she had taken her notebook as well. Knowing her mind was better at absorbing information after she had written her thoughts on the matter down. However, there was no way that she would climb up just to grab it.

No, crying over spilled milk, I guess.

The sound of footsteps behind her, made Lidea turn around just to see one of the trainees standing petrified with his hands held up. A book thudded on the floor as he had let it fall in his haste to make himself seem innocuous.

“Apologies for scaring you my lady, I wasn’t aware that someone was here.”

Taylor’s voice trembled slightly. Uttering the words with such a heavy drawl that it took a moment for her to understand him. The handsome blonde looked at her in such shock that it made her frown. She wondered what she had ever done to make the man so nervous as he didn’t act the same way when he didn’t notice her presence. After he had stood up for her that first day, they hadn’t spoken to each other. Not that it meant anything, as she hadn’t talked to any of them since.

“It is okay, it seems like I scared you just as much. You are up early, Taylor.”

Her reaction seemed to only worsen his nervousness and he smiled uncomfortably at her. Causing Lidea to stare at him in confusion.

“You can let your arms down.”

Taylor quickly lowered his arms and after she glanced at the book he had dropped, he bend to pick it up.

“I’m an early riser. It seems that you are so as well? Eehm, my lady.”

Lidea didn’t bother to correct his assumption. Better for him to think she got up voluntarily than for him to know the hell she went through each night or what had woken her up this morning.

“Getting up early is more productive. But it seems like I stole your reading spot, I can move somewhere else.”

He waved her suggestion away with a blush. Apparently, a bit bolder than before but still very awkward. She wondered if this was normal behavior for someone their age. Lidea didn’t think so. But maybe she was forced to mature earlier than others. As he turned to leave, she wavered a moment before offering an olive branch.

“You can sit with me you know. I don’t know what the guys are saying, but I have never bitten anyone.”

The boy seemed to turn even redder, wildly moving his hands as if he could somehow convey his emotions without having to say any words.

“I couldn’t do that. You are a noble!”

He stumbled his way through the words and Lidea snorted as she pointed at one of the other chairs.

“Don’t be absurd. If you haven’t heard already, I lost my title. But even if I still had it, it doesn’t make me any more than you. Sit and enjoy your book.”

She didn’t give him the option to refute her and turned her attention back to the book. Not long after, she heard him sit down next to her causing her to smile triumphantly. It was silent as they both focused on their reading. At least, she had thought that he had been reading until she a throat being cleared.

“Can I ask something?”

Lidea looked from the text over at him, a bit annoyed that he had decided to further interrupt her study. Yet she didn’t want to show the nervous boy any ill will, and responded kindly.

“Yes?”

As he fiddled with his fingers, she waited patiently. From the little she had learned of him so far, Taylor didn’t seem to have a lot of confidence and she didn’t want to spook him when he dared to ask her something.

“My brother… How did he die?”