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To Fly the Soaring Tides
201 - A Change in Scenery

201 - A Change in Scenery

“What the hell are you doing?!” Like two memories were clashing—one where he was and wasn’t here—Io was suddenly standing beside Cira. Ignoring the confusing sorcery, she replied in something of a panic.

“I figured it out!” Cira’s voice dripped with desperation and excitement—the two emotions teetered precariously. “A way to preserve the curse Zephyr placed upon you!”

“And why would you want to do that?!” Io was furious, and quickly bolstered Cira’s paltry barriers. They looked more like a cyclone of wind, or an infinite array of fibers spiraling in a self-replenishing pattern. “There is nothing more vile than those powers! They should never be possessed. Allow it to fade away, dammit!”

His hair and beard whipped in the wind, but his eyes were filled with contempt. Conflicted as he appeared, Cira still didn’t appreciate it, but she also didn’t expect the flame to try going out of control.

“I can’t do that.” Her own aura pushed back against the curse pressure and a glare focused on Io, “I told you, didn’t I? The most sinister—”

“Is that really the case?!” Io cut her off with a knowing gaze. They had just had the conversation recently, after all. “Then why do you insist on doing it with your bare hands? You fool of an unteachable student, make that blighted sapling appear!”

“B-but…” Of all things… this was the thing she despised most, yet somehow it was the thing closest to her. It had never let her down, but relying on it was only a last resort. What kind of sorcerer would she become if she kept leaning on it?

Come to think of it… that connection with Breeze Haven, then the Amulet of Paradise… this is the exact same phenomenon I have always felt with the Auld Sprig. But why? What even is it? What does ‘blighted sapling’ mean? “That thing…” No matter how I feel about it, I guess I really do still need to rely on it, “It… it feels wrong.”

“No shit!” Io cried, pouring mana into reinforcing the barrier as her crew looked on in horror from afar. Violent tremors shook her world stemming from the cursed crystal marble she intended to create, but her fist could not fully close. Something was stopping her. She simply didn’t have enough authority over this foreign power. “Everything about that stick is wrong! But ask yourself, does that make you wrong? Was it not you who claimed you would conquer the unknown? That only the hands of the wielder can truly be sinister? If you dally any longer, you will only prove yourself correct!”

Blood welled up in his eyes like tears. He… Io sounds very desperate. Cira looked around and she noticed all her crew, harem and all, looked on with fear and panic. Cira wiped the sweat off her forehead, and it ran red.

Ah… I see. How did it come to this?

Perhaps her time in the void disconnected her too far from the standards of reality. Taming this cursed flame should have been a quick matter. In an out, marble in the pocket. No problem.

But things were not always as simple as she hoped.

Why have I done this again? Is there something wrong with me?

Io tried to convince her that sticking to her half-assed regimen was all he did, but her students improved by leaps and bounds in just a few days of her absence. Granted, that same time felt like weeks of isolated torment to Cira, but it was so little time to those she swore to instruct. She had barely seen her original ten mages lately, but even Tawny was bursting with energy.

The two had spent at least the same amount of time in Paradise on their last visit, but her progress was exponential under Io.

Dammit. Cira bit her lip. “I get it… The sorcerer’s burden ever deepens. All I need is five minutes, but just one will destroy those I care about.” She looked down, crestfallen. “As I attempt to become a sorcerer like my father, I stray perpetually further from that ideal.”

He was kind and charismatic; strong and infallible. The model sorcerer. One who could relate with anyone, and all could relate to. In times where no one knew what to think, he always knew what to say. His confidence rarely faltered for a moment outside his final days when no one else was around…

When he was curious about something, or had an idea, he very often experimented on the spot. If he did something in earnest, that meant he was confident about it. I never watched him fail when it mattered. That was the mark of a true sorcerer. This new curse was supposed to tidy up nice and easy—then I put everyone in danger.

“Why do I always do this?” Cira’s pleading eyes pointed to the only person considerably wiser than herself. “I already know my path is different than his. But… but I try—”

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“I know.” Somehow Io’s ancient voice reassured her, “But I thought my own path had ended. You granted even this old man one last foothold. I know not what lies before you or at your back, but only you can decide what to do now. Call upon the blighted sapling and be done with that primordial seed!”

There it is again… Now it’s a primordial seed too?

I wouldn’t mind asking him what that all means.

But he’s right.

Cira held out her palm.

I do know what to do.

It just hurts. All I wanted to do was stand on my own two feet.

A dark branch appeared in her hands. She swore her palms dried out as they gripped it. Slamming it into the ground, cursed smoke did not seep out like usual, but the aether trembled.

I am a sorcerer aspiring to the greatest heights. There are those who must be destroyed, and now many who must not be endangered. Naturally, those around me will be injured by the whiplash of my presence. I will only bring them trouble. I have done everything I can now to protect them, and now the only choice I have is to distance myself before it becomes any worse. This is for the best.

If her false father was truly closing in, there was no way she could bring a following anywhere near that threat. It was a matter she must not involve others in above all else.

I must face these powers if I aim to destroy him though. This chance cannot slip.

“I’m sorry, everyone.” Cira’s voice dripped with regret and something else too bitter to put into words. With inexplicable shame, she raised the Auld Sprig and scanned over the mixed gazes of all those she came to meet since crashing into Lost Cloud. Skipper was crushed, while her paladins were in tears, filled with worry and confusion. Much the same for Captain Shores and any number of random pirates she vaguely recognized. Only half the Council was even present. Tawny was confused and slightly worried while it was refreshing to see Jimbo lifting his flask as usual. “And thank you. But I have some things to go take care of.”

It had become clear to Cira that she had no idea as to the Auld Sprig’s nature. Aside from her most reliable tool, it had become a symbol of hatred she could not escape, but if she could just ignore that for a moment… It became something she could—and always had, one way or the other—been able to depend on.

“Breeze Haven… It’s time.” The so-called sapling flickered with power, and instead of suffocating smoke, Cira was swallowed up in a swathe of light. Like the aether itself had taken her away, lights flickered across the shimmering golden landscape. In the same moment, the sorcerer had disappeared along with the large shadow her home cast upon the island. As if to assure everyone it was over, not even the pulsating crystal flame remained. It was all gone.

Some sighed a breath of relief, but others still realized the truth of the matter. Cira was gone just like that, leaving everyone with vague parting words.

___

Cira was moving in a certain direction, but it was unclear what her destination was. Nothing around her seemed to have substance yet thrummed with power. She was travelling quite fast.

Mana swirled around her, and it felt like the void in a sense. Instead of worrying she’d fade into nothing, however, she had to worry she would take on too much energy here and disperse from the inside.

It was not a difficult matter to get on top of, and she quickly regained as much mana as she expended removing herself from Paradise.

But where am I going?

There was a more important matter at hand.

As she was hurled uncontrollably through unfathomable aetheric pathways, a sanguine flame floated before her, indignant and reluctant to fall under her control.

This is no matter. I will preserve this curse, and I will understand the truth of it… Make no mistake.

The Auld Sprig continued executing her will, even in this place. Like a stray flame, the curse formed a perfect crystal marble. She didn’t even feel any backlash, and in this corridor of pure aether, there didn’t seem to be any adverse effects to the environment. With nothing to compare anything to here, Cira wasn’t even sure how much power she was expending to perform this task—her aura did not seem to drain.

I will have plenty of time to ponder later… Cira plucked the rosy marble out of the air, but I have succeeded in containing Chrysalis. I can learn more about it later. Now I just need to escape this place.

She instinctually knew this would not be difficult. Unlike the artificial void, this place felt connected to a very familiar spatial plane.

Could it be… I can follow this to the nearest mana well? But I don’t want that. What if I just end up back on Acher? I need to get to the Dead Belt. Nowhere else.

Cira had a general idea of where it was in relation to Acher, Plackelo, and the Boreal. She gripped her fingers tight around the Auld Sprig and focused.

Didn’t I see it once…? I miniscule speck of a shadow in the sky straight above Uren. That’s right… Let’s go there. That’s where I need to be.

___

“I’m telling you, Peter.” Gramps shook his head with weary eyes, “They don’t call this place the Noose for nothin’. I don’t think… I don’t think Marie’s coming back…”

Facing the prospect of losing his own daughter, he was far more distraught than Peter, despite the fact that the two were newlyweds. If only that stupid man would have just waited for the witches to clear out and trade to pick back up before trying to elope to who knows where, but no. Things had to become like this.

“I… I’m sorry.” His words didn’t seem to be meant for Gramps, “I’m so sorry, Marie! I failed you—”

His words were pushed back as the air rippled. The two looked at each other with bewilderment and realized they were seeing the same thing. Energy converged and the figure of a woman appeared. For a moment, Peter thought his prayers were answered, then lofty golden hair settled on shoulders clad in silk.

“Huh…?” A young woman in extravagant robes looked at the two. “Isn’t this supposed to be the Dead Belt? You don’t live here, do you?”

“I… I’m sorry!” Peter threw himself to his knees, “Please save my dear Marie, oh mighty witch!”

“God dammit…” The witch muttered under her breath. “Fine. If she is alive, I shall save her. Pray tell, how exactly do you intend to compensate me?”