“Woah, who are those ships?” Nayleen questioned, holding the steering wheel, her eyes were squinting, trying to see the details of the ships in the evening sun.
“What ships?" Varhi questioned, looking up from using a whetstone on his sword while he let Nayleen steer the ship. He stood up, cupping his left hand still holding the stone over his forehead to eliminate the sun's glare. "...Uh oh. You'd best give me that.” Varhi demanded with a bit of urgency. Nayleen hastily stepped aside as Varhi put away the stone and sheathed his sword, then used the lever to cut the engines of the ship that had been at quarter speed. He hoped in doing so, he was showing compliance on the ships on the horizon that were approaching them. “Those are Cearestian. I guess that means we made it past the border. Those ships are military though. Someone probably spotted us at a lookout tower on the border checkpoint or something, then notified them of our approach. I assume by their presence they think we're a Kiorian ship trying to sneak in.”
“I don’t think we saw that. I didn't think we made it that far.” Nayleen frowned. “Why are they sending half a dozen military ships for a single civillian ship?”
“If I were to guess, it’s because we’re a Kiorian design with the purpose of shuttling mercenaries, that is crossing into Cearestian soil. You remember what the letter was about, yeah?” Varhi asked.
“Oh, right! According to Sairek it wasn’t the first time either, which made the lie from Avotash extremely believable. Uh… Are we going to be okay?” Nayleen asked.
“Well, we haven’t broken the law—ah, here, I mean. Besides, once they approach, they’re just going to see you and I. Though, we are both technically Kiorian citizens… They may turn us away if they want to be asses about it.”
“Hmm… We just want food, to dock the ship, and then we’re leaving, right? Our stay within the border itself shouldn't be more than three days.” Nayleen suggested. “We could just ask them to deliver us some supplies in the worst case?”
“That might work as a compromise, but it means we couldn’t dock the ship somewhere safe. I’ll keep that in mind though since that’s better than nothing. Let’s be on our best behavior.”
They both waited as the ships approached, slowing down. It took them a while. Cearestian ships clearly weren’t up to even remotely the same advancements as Kiorian ships, and they were probably mostly, if entirely powered by magic only with exception to the sails.
That seemed to be so true in fact, that when one of them approached side by side, someone began yelling at them over the crashing waves of the ocean, no megaphone at all. Varhi stepped over from the steering wheel to the railing to face them, cupping his hands to shout “What!?”
A man wearing a white mantle that went down his back, nearly touching the floor, with gold stripes and other adornments over the garment was shouting at him. This time, he was a little more audible. “You are trespassing on Cearestian Soil!”
“We’re a civilian ship!” Varhi shouted back. “NOT. MILITARY!”
“What!?”
“CIVILIANS! NOT, MILITARY!!”
“What!?”
“...Oh for the—” Varhi sighed, then looked back at Nayleen. “...Okay, forget the best behavior thing. Can you hold the fort for a few minutes?”
“Huh? What are you—” Nayleen began, but never got to finish. Varhi took a few steps back, then sprinted forwards, hoisting his right leg up onto the railing of the ship and released the ethereal within his boots, jumping sky high from his ship and soaring through the air over the thirty foot gap of ocean to descend down onto the smaller Cearestian boat with a grunt and a tumbling roll. He managed to make it look mostly planned with the way he rolled, but he came crashing down with a big “Oomph!” from the impact. He managed to at least roll into an upright kneel.
“I SAID WE ARE CIVILIANS AND NOT MILITARY! Goodness!” Varhi shouted much louder than was necessary. He glanced around as several mages, wizards and sages were pointing staves, rods and wands and other magical weapons at him cautiously. “And we’re just children!” Varhi added, holding his hands up in front of him in a surrendered gesture, just for a bit of sympathy before they blew him up, or something.
“This has to be some sort of ruse,” someone said.
“What ruse would be me jumping from my ship onto your ship and not start attacking you if I was actually hostile?!" Varhi blanched, offended. "I could have just used cannons or something! I just openly surrounded myself, after we halted the ship and was surrendered upon your approach! Also,” He patted his chest, glaring at the man who spoke. “Child. See~?” He hooked his thumb back towards his ship. “Again, that’s not a military ship. By classification, it’s a civilian one. You really want to attack a civilian ship with children unboard unprovoked? The Neutral Council would be pissed if word got out about that!”
“A civilian ship? But it’s nearly twice the size of ours!” Someone shouted.
“So are the Masirean merchant ships. Do you label them as military as well?” Varhi pressed.
There was a pause. “They are that big. He’s right.” Someone said behind him.
“Yeah but—”
Varhi sighed. “No wonder why Kior has been able to get into your guys’ borders before… I even have my own citizenship documentation, if you will let me reach for it.”
“Slowly.” Someone behind him advised.
“Slow it is, then.” Varhi complied, carefully pulling out his own missing person’s report. He held them out for someone to take, which was the man who had shouted to him at the ship before. His eyes creased. “This is not documentation. It’s a missing person’s report.”
“And I’m that missing person. It’s even got my picture on the second page. See?”
The man flipped the paper to the other side, frowning, then glancing up at Varhi, then the photo again. “The resemblance is definitely uncanny… But why this and not proper documentation?”
“Well, it is hard to have the exact required and proper documentation when you were kidnapped… and then rescued… and then nearly kidnapped again!” Varhi leaned in a little. “I’ve had a bit of a hard time in Kior, so I’d really appreciate it if you would let my friend and I inside Ceareste. Just for two or three days so we can have a safe place to dock my ship and get some provisions under the safe harbor protection to visit the Neutral Council.” Varhi requested. “I know usually it’s Kior that gets that request, but I can’t just leave my ship out in the open. I’d like to leave it docked at Thalnar.”
“Neutral Council? I can understand if you wanted to take shelter within Ceareste, but why go there? Going back there would mean going back into Kior.”
“I can’t answer the specifics of that question, but what I will say is that it’s to get back at my kidnappers, among other reasons.” Varhi said, his tone serious.
“Hrmm… Very well. With your missing’s person’s report from Kior’s legal branch, and being right here, there has to be some merit to your story, I suppose. Enough to believe you're not the Kiorian military, at least. Who is your 'friend' that is with you?”
“Just a friend. Unlike me, she should have official documents. She’s visited Ceareste before. Probably still has proof on her, too. Actually, may I ask for a small favor?” Varhi requested, and hooked his thumb back at his ship. “I can’t do the whole ‘jumping across from one ship to another’ thing again. Think you guys could port me back over?”
He saw the older man give a long, exasperated sigh. Varhi smirked.
* * *
“I think she cut it like this…
No wait, it was like this…
and then I, uh… Um…
…Wait a second, wasn’t I supposed to wash this first? Ugh, crap…”
Sairek scratched the top of his head with his left hand, frowning in confusion. “Urgh… This is really hard. How in the Flaming Lands does Nayleen remember all of this without instructions right in front of her?...” He sighed.
“Hey, I’m back. The pot of water is all set up, too.” Cyial’s voice called softly from the entrance of the tent. Sairek didn’t look around to face him though nor give him a response. Confused, Cyial stepped in and stood beside Sairek. “...Oh.” He let out. “You, uh… Hm.”
Sairek’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the meat scraps in front of him. They were uneven and… “...I don’t wanna talk about it…” he grumbled.
“At least you cut the vegetables okay, but seriously, what happened?” Cyial questioned, ignoring his request.
“Ugghhh… Fine…” Sairek groaned, tilting his angle of where he sat on the chair more towards Cyial’s direction. “I couldn’t decide if I was supposed to cut it into portions, or in strips like jerky… or what,” he fumed. “The problem is that I never really cared to watch the chefs at the castle cook, and when I watch Nayleen cook, she does make it reasonably easy to understand in instruction… but the problem is that she cooks something different almost every single time that all of those instructions for each thing she’s given me are all melded together. So I can’t remember what instruction I was supposed to do for this specific meat…!”
“You wash the vegetables and tenderize the beef. The venison is the one you cut.” Cyial reminded him. Then paused. “Um… I think...? I... I understand your problem now. I'm second-guessing myself, too." Cyial frowned.
“Tenderize? Gah! That was probably it…” Sairek pushed the knife on the table in annoyance and reclined back in the chair. He pressed the back of his hands to his forehead in exasperation. “Dammit…!”
“It’s alright Sairek. We can still use this. Well, I mean, we kind of have to; we can’t afford to waste the food or else we’re going to have a Masirean situation again.” He frowned. “First, let’s put all of the veggies into a bowl of clean water to wash them and then drain the excess. For the meat, you can, uh… um…” Cyial wrinkled his nose in thought.
Sairek glanced at the meat and an idea instantly struck him. “I’ll… I’ll get the frying pan and lid and a small scoop of butter so it doesn’t stick and to moisturize it a little. I’ll cook it like it’s a jerky. Then we can tear the strips of meat down into smaller portions and let the strips tenderize inside of the stew. It should make them softer and more tender… I think.”
“A venison, beef and vegetable stew? Okay, sure, let’s do that.” Cyial agreed. "And there's lots of herbs and spices we can sprinkle it for additional flavor as well."
Sairek and Cyial scooped up the veggies in one bowl, and the meat in another. Cyial carried the pot lid they’d need out while Sairek carried a frying pan and butter with the knife he’d been using. They both walked outside, where Sairek glanced towards the ocean to observe the condition of the sky. It was getting more cloudy, and most of the clouds were underlined with a golden yellow as the sun was beginning to set. It didn’t look like it was going to rain though. They probably had more than an hour of daylight left, but probably less than two.
“I’m surprised you’re still wearing just the swimming trunks.” Cyial commented as they got to the firepit they made. Cyial had already hung the pot of water to be ready to boil once it was lit.
“It’s really hot today. Being next to the ocean like this makes it terribly humid as well. It’s worse than when we were in Masirean.” Sairek frowned. “The tent cooled me down a little bit though, due to being in the shade. I think it’s got a little bit of heat resistance to it too. I thought with the sun starting to set and more cloud cover, it would have started at least cooling off a little bit…”
“Well, it is just desert around here, so I understand. The tent doesn’t seem magical though. It’s probably just something with the material to repel the heat.” Cyial said. “Can you do the honors?” He asked, pouring the clean water into his bowl as he sat down on his knees next to the fire.
Sairek set his utensils aside and lifted his right hand towards the fire. “...Balinzer,” He muttered softly to himself.
...Then Sairek yelped as a large flame gushed out of his hand, far, far more than he intended, engulfing their pile of sticks completely. Cyial jerked away in surprise and took several paces back in a startled rush, but didn’t let out a shrill sound like Sairek did. Sairek’s hand tingled like it was itching due to a rash. He clutched his left hand.
He looked back at the fire, and, despite the large flame, he did ignite it properly. He glanced at Cyial as the jump start of adrenaline caused his heart to beat in a hastened pace.
“...Well, you lit it.” Cyial replied in a dry tone. “What just happened? Your control with balinzer is way better than that.”
“I… I don’t know! I may have put too much in at once, but I swear that I don't think I did… Or maybe I just haven’t cast for so long and I’m so used to not being able to do it that I… put in more power into it than I meant to? But it didn't feel like it...” Sairek frowned, unsure. Sure it had been a week but he’d gone longer without casting balinzer before… And that was without his staff, too! He’d improved thanks to Fuyiki and he’d been practicing, sure, but without his gloves as a buffer for the energy, and without his staff? No way that amount should have come out...
“Your expression is suggesting even you don't believe that makes sense." Cyial pointed out. "Hmm…It might be the location?"
“Oh, right. That could do it... but if fire is like that… then casting anything else, especially of the water element, it’s going to be very difficult.” Sairek frowned.
“It’s probably why you’re feeling so hot, too. Was it like this when we got here for you?”
“Somewhat, but it already feels worse, like I’ve been in the sun for far too long but I was fine when we were just outside of the ship. I felt better inside the tent, but still not great."
“Yeah, I noticed you were sweating a lot. Between that and, well... that," he gestured with his head at the fire, "...it's probably the weave of ethereal.” Cyial surmised.
“So this is what it’s like all the time around here? These minor but intense heat waves kind of go all over the place?” Sairek frowned.
“I’d have to look at my tome to make sure, but I think that's a rough idea for how it works?"
“Laure mentioned something like that way back in Shimira, but it was because of the snow and cold.” Sairek said.
“Yeah, this is basically the opposite of that. And Doran was kind of similar, except it was a deficiency of water energy, rather than the over abundance of heat outright. Doran was dried up, but it wasn’t hot, or a desert, of course,” Cyial mused. “Well, hopefully it’ll pass soon so you feel comfortable again. It might not be too bad once the sun sets either. Might actually be good in a couple of ways. It can get surprisingly cold near deserts once the sun sets, apparently.”
“I’ll be nice and cozy snuggling to you by the time that comes anyway if it were to get cold.” Sairek smirked, grabbing his utensils again, and spreading a slice of butter onto the pan, using the nearby heat and a bit of magic — being extra careful this time to help melt it. He covered the melted butter all over the surface of the pan, then placed the strips of meat onto one of the many rocks circling the fire to allow their meat to slowly cook as everything in the pot began to cook. Before too long, the pan was sizzling because of the melted butter, and the juices of the meat began to sizzle with its juices bubbling as well.
Cyial meanwhile washed the vegetables, then drained the excess water onto the ground without spilling the contents by putting the pot lid up against the bowl to create only an opening where the water could escape. Then he tossed the vegetables into the now steaming water. “Doesn’t smell terrible, doesn’t it?” He asked.
“Yeah, it smells okay. We don’t have a lot of the spices like Nayleen likes to toss in, though.” Sairek frowned. “I don’t know what she tosses in sometimes, other than salt and pepper.”
“We still have salt and pepper. How much does she put in?” Cyial asked.
“Two pinches of salt and at least double that for pepper, but we’re using a smaller pot, and it’s just servings for the both of us instead of four of us. One pinch salt and about two pinch of pepper should be equivalent.” Sairek answered.
“See? You remember some of her lessons.” Cyial smiled.
“She never taught me that. It’s just something I noticed when watching her.” Sairek said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Cyial stepped away and returned with the salt and pepper, handing them to the Prince. Sairek grabbed as much as he believed they should add, and with a little flick with his fingers, he cascaded it down into the pot, both times for salt and pepper. “There, I think that’ll do it for now until the meat’s ready.” Cyial said, grabbing the pot lid and placing it on top of the pot completely.
“Wait. Give it a small little opening, so the steam can escape. Nayleen does that too.” Sairek corrected him.
“Oh.” Cyial let out, and reached over to adjust the pot lid again. “Okay, there. And now we wait. These should be okay on their own for a little bit, I think?”
Sairek grabbed the lid for the pan and placed it over the top completely, also mimicking the small opening to allow any built-up steam to escape. “I think we can relax in the tent for a bit since the fire is low. I still want to lay down and sleep a bit longer.” He said, standing up and dusting the sand off of his legs.
“Still feeling tired?” Cyial asked, rising with Sairek.
“Yeah. I’m not sure I’ll be able to nap for long enough before all of this is ready for the next step, though.” Sairek frowned as they both began making their way back to the tent.
“It’s just tearing the meat apart into pieces and throwing it into the pot. I can manage that for you if you'd prefer to rest.” Cyial reassured him. “I’ll wake you when I think it's ready. Or, at least just about to be.”
“Okay, thanks. Do you have any stories to read to me in that tome of yours? It would help me fall asleep easier.”
“You want me to read you a bedtime story?” Cyial laughed.
“Why not? There are some interesting ones in it.” Sairek grinned. “I read a few of them on the train in Kior, after all."
“The selection isn’t very wide, unfortunately. You may have read most of them already. It’s mostly world knowledge inside the tome. All the stories that exist in there are there to teach a life lesson. Or… at least they were probably changed them slightly to be that way.”
“Changed?” Sairek inquired.
“The stories are supposed to be true stories, but I have a strong inclination that most, if not all of them were changed to be more interesting or to get a point across.” Cyial chuckled. “I suppose it does help make the learning of the lessons in those old stories more enticing, though.”
* * *
“I still can’t believe that worked.” Nayleen grumbled.
“And I can’t believe you’re making me visit a teacher for magic.” Varhi retorted. “Why are we visiting him?”
“Because he’s Sairek’s teacher and I want to stop by and say hello.”
“Why do I have to come along, though?”
“That’s mean, Varhi.”
“What! You know magic gives me goosebumps.”
“If visiting Sairek’s castle didn’t kill you, visiting this guy won’t.” Nayleen reprimanded him. “Trust me. He’s more dangerous to Sairek than you, especially if I’m with you.”
Varhi grumbled incoherently under his breath, then sighed. “Whatever. Since the bazaar is along the way there, if your directions are correct. We arrived later than expected and people are going to stop selling within the hour. The sun is about to set. Most people go home once it gets dark.”
“Alright, fine. We can delay the inevitable a little longer.” She teased.
Varhi rolled his eyes at her. “Just give me my list.”
Nayleen reached into her pocket and pulled out two small pieces of paper and handed one to Varhi.
Bag for carrying (circled)
Meats, salted
Tent
Lanterns & fuel
Two sleeping bags
Varhi glanced over at Nayleen’s list while they were still side-by-side as they walked.
Bags for carrying (circled)
Potato, tomatoes, corn,
Salt, pepper, spices
Fresh water
Medical supplies/herbs
Arrows
Utensils for cooking/eating
MEAT! ! !
Varhi squinted his eyes, looked back at his list, and then at Nayleen’s. “...You put meat on both of ours.” He noted out loud. Sure his was for salted, but…
“Uh-huh. And?” She posed.
Varhi blinked curiously at her. “...Alright then.” He conceded without even putting up any resistance. “Just making sure it wasn’t a mistake.”
“You three are growing boys.” Nayleen sniffed. “Gotta make sure you each grow up big and strong.”
Varhi cast her a sidelong glance and a smirk. “And yet I have this gut feeling that most of it isn’t for any of us males’ interests in giving us a healthy and balanced diet.”
“And your gut never lies, right?” Nayleen smirked back knowingly.
“I’m afraid not.”
They climbed shallow and long steps towards the bazaar, and Nayleen dug into her pocket again to pull out Sairek’s pouch of seru. “Here, I’ll just give you around half. Should be more than enough to pay for everything.” She said.
Varhi pulled out his own wallet, which had next to nothing inside of it. Nayleen was basically giving him over three-thousand easy and he had less than a hundred inside of his. He gulped. “...My wallet’s never felt this heavy before…” he grumbled.
“I’m sure Sairek wouldn’t mind paying you once he gets back to the castle, you know.” Nayleen said.
“...Don’t tempt me, please.” Varhi sighed.
“Why? You know he wouldn’t mind. Where else are you going to do mercenary work now, anyway?”
Varhi didn’t reply verbally, but merely groaned. Masirean was obviously out of the question. Kior was dangerous apparently. Malodia…? No, they didn’t give a damn about types like him. He wasn’t even sure if the general populace there even used seru inside of the country. Malodia hardly cared about currency and economics as it was and they mostly only traded for natural resources they couldn’t easily get elsewhere. There was a reason they just kept to themselves. They were very tribal and natural; though still cordial enough to visitors; most of the time.
Even if they did allow someone like him to do mercenary work, Malodia’s lacking of modernized civilization made it extremely hard to travel anywhere without being very great at being a nomad yourself. Even more so due to how treacherous traveling in Malodia was in the first place at times. Mother nature was the real ruler there, with swamps and bogs existing aplenty. You could be walking and find yourself sinking under soft earth with no escape. Walking around with his armor would cause such sink pits to be even more deadly for him.
“Aaaarrrghh…!” Varhi groaned loudly out into the air. A few onlookers departing the bazaar gave him a curious glances at his outburst. “This is the Pits… Working as a mercenary in Ceareste…?! My mercenary career may as well be over...” he whined.
“What?” Nayleen frowned. “Why are you so upset?”
“I hate magic…! It’s nothing but magic here! Gaaaaahhh!”
“But you worked as a mercenary in Kior first, didn’t you? I mean, I guess in a way that big fat dome would make it a dream for you there, but...”
“There’s a reason I went to Masirean…” Varhi let out in an exasperated sigh. He gestured to himself with his right hand. “I’m clearly more brawn, but I’m far better against it too. The Masireans are just like me; we don’t know shit about magic and don’t care for it either. We just want to swing big heavy things at people. And we enjoy it, too.”
“How’d you manage to convince Jimmy to go along with this?” Nayleen asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“I didn’t have to. It was his idea. Y’know, after the ‘being sent to prison and nearly executed’ thing?”
“...Makes sense. And also ironic with what happened.”
"Yeeeaaaahhh..."
"And I'm guessing he chose Masirean because there's actually work to be done in Masirean?" Nayleen asked.
"That was one of them, but plenty of others. I mean, getting around Ceareste in a boat is a bit unfeasible. You have here, and then Lamen as your destinations mostly. With Masirean you can go lots of places using a boat since its not on the mainland." Varhi explained. "Plus getting to and from places in Ceareste is just a lot harder. And then there's the fact that Sairek's dad doesn't like kids like me, apparently."
"What makes you say that?" Nayleen asked.
"I did get handed that letter by him. We talked for a bit... very briefly... which... means my prospects of doing this kind of work in Ceareste are much lower. Not that to the point where I'd be bounty hunted, but..."
"...You really pissed off three of the four kingdoms, didn't you?" Nayleen drawled.
"Hey, hey, I only pissed off two, I still don't know what the heck is up with Kior and why Eseras and her cronnies are so interested in me... but it wasn't because of anything I did!" Varhi protested.
Reaching the top of the steps, Varhi and Nayleen glanced around. Most people were beginning to pack their things already to stop selling. Varhi glanced at his list again with a frown. “Looks like we’ll have to come back tomorrow morning to get everything. Some of the stalls are already vacant.”
Nayleen shrugged. “Oh well. We’ll do what we can tonight. It’ll make tomorrow faster. Would have been nice to be able to leave first thing in the morning though, I don’t want to keep Sairek and Cyial waiting for longer than necessary. Well, let’s split up. We’ll meet back here in twenty minutes?”
“Aye.”
* * *
“It seems to smell okay.” Sairek murmured with a yawn. The nap kind of made him feel more tired than before he went for the lay down, but not much could be done. He needed to eat for a proper rest anyways. ‘There was always sleep after the food was done and consumed’ he was reminding himself.
“No. It smells good, Sairek.” Cyial corrected him with a gentle nudge to his side. “It’s not Nayleen quality, but it’s fine for your first time without her help. You already learned to do a few things better for next time, right?”
“I… suppose.” Sairek answered noncommittally.
“Right?” Cyial pressed him.
“...Yes.” He conceded.
“This is how you learn and experience. It was like that for me with alchemy too, you know. Actually, it’s not that much different, really.” Cyial reassured him.
“Yeah. I’m just more upset that I didn’t remember. I thought I was paying better attention.” Sairek frowned, scratching behind his ear.
“Sometimes that happens. Maybe you learn better from doing than listening or watching.” Cyial said. “For me, I learn better from having it written down and then studying it. It was kind of like that for your magic too, right?”
“Hmm… I’m not sure. I haven’t paid much attention to how I learn. I guess I should. It would help me… well, learn better.” Sairek huffed a short laugh. “Either way, I think it should be done now. Let’s see how it tastes.”
Cyial lifted and unhooked the pot from the fire pit and Sairek set two empty bowls with wooden spoons ready. He picked one up and held it up as Cyial stuck a ladle into the pot and poured a serving into it. Sairek set that bowl carefully on the ground and they repeated for the second bowl, which Sairek held out for Cyial to take as he hooked the pot again. By now, the fire was down to a simmer. It was hot enough that they didn’t need the heat anyways, though with the dimmer light, Cyial’s eyes began to glow as dusk began to settle in with the sun by now having dipped below the horizon.
“Ready?” Cyial asked, holding the bowl closer to his chest in one hand, hand on the handle of the wooden spoon on the other.
“I’m... anxious, but sure.” Sairek nodded slightly. He held his own bowl up closer and took a moderate portion of the stew he made, before putting the spoon in his mouth.
The vegetables were soft and cooked properly. The meat was chewy, but ultimately tender and cooked thoroughly. It was clearly lacking seasoning, but they didn’t have much in that department, so that was to be expected and nothing he could have fixed. He had added what little herbs and spices they had available that made sense. It was… edible. Good even. Not great, or excellent, but good. Sairek initially felt annoyed about his earlier blunder, but after tasting it, he felt his chest swell with pride that he managed to cook something reasonably edible.
“Hmm…” Sairek hummed quietly to himself, then quickly darted his eyes away from Cyial who turned to look at him from the noise he’d made. Sairek’s face flushed instantly.
“Oh, what was that noise for~?” Cyial teased with a smirk.
“Mmf…” Sairek let out, food still in his mouth.
“It’s good, Sairek.” Cyial continued, still smirking at him knowingly.
“Mm-hmm…” Sairek let out, swallowing slowly.
“Why are you blushing?”
“Gah…” Sairek let out, having forgotten the demon could see him clearly even through the light of dusk. “I… uh, I like my own food…” he grumbled.
“So?”
“I just didn’t want to be biased… and have some modesty, you know?” Sairek said dryly.
Cyial laughed softly. “Look at you, trying to be so modest! That’s adorable!” He teased, not helping the Prince’s blushing at all. “Look Sairek, it’s okay to like something you made and be proud of it. You should be proud! Again, I felt the exact same way when I started with alchemy too. I’m sure a big reason some people love to cook is because they get the same feeling you have right now, where people eat and enjoy the food they made. Every time we tell Nayleen thanks, or that it tastes good, she beams a big smile at us! It makes her feel extremely happy and fulfilled that we enjoy her food as much as we do.”
“I, I see. I never gave it much thought before. And I guess it makes it even more important to say ‘thank you’ to someone that made you something, too…” Sairek murmured, staring down at his bowl. “I never considered it. I just thought people made stuff because, you know, it’s their jobs. They do it day by day. I suppose even with something like teaching, someone like Fuyiki gets joy or some kind of satisfaction guiding and setting students on a path to explore and discover their own passions, huh?”
“Exactly!” Cyial nodded. “I’m like that when I help people with my medicines too. Even if they… uh, don’t appreciate it sometimes. Don’t be shy about it or feel like you have to critique your own creations so hard. Other people will do it, especially with food, but it’s only because they want you to get better, not because they hate you— well, most of the time. For example, if Nayleen was here, what do you think she would say is wrong with it?”
“The meat is too chewy. And well, it lacks seasoning but we couldn’t help that. Probably other things, like how the broth is probably a bit too watery or something.” Sairek answered.
“She wouldn’t do it to be mean though, right?” Cyial questioned.
“Yes, yes, I know what you’re getting at.” Sairek looked back up at him, and smiled, reassured thanks to Cyial’s lecturing. “Thank you for taking care of me, Cyial. I…” Sairek trailed off, his throat suddenly had a lump in it that caught him off guard, and water began to stain his eyes. He tried to blink them away several times, but it was no use. His chest tightened suddenly as well.
“Aw, Sairek…” Cyial soothed. He set aside his bowl and shimmied next to the Prince. Sairek set aside his own bowl safely to the side, seeing the hug coming seconds before it did, and he allowed it. Cyial rubbed his bare back up and down in that soothing motion Cyial always did to help calm him down.
“Sorry… I don’t know why I’m starting to cry, I’m not sad, I promise…!” Sairek let out between a half laugh, half choked sob.
“I know.” Cyial whispered as Sairek leaned into him. “It’s just an overwhelming amount of emotion, right?”
“It’s because of how much you love me… Apparently I don’t know how to handle it.” Sairek said, somewhat muffled against Cyial’s robed shoulder. “Not just you either, but…” Sairek’s voice trailed off. “I… I didn’t realize how much I needed this… for so long. I mean, I knew I wanted it or needed it, but I didn’t realize just how badly…”
Cyial whispered gently into Sairek’s ear. “I’m not going anywhere, partner.”
Sairek let out a weak laugh, but he moved to pull Cyial closer. “Okay, partner, he nodded against Cyial, before pulling away slightly, and gave the demon a kiss on the lips for a few seconds before pulling away.
“Hm…” Cyial hummed, then licked his lips. “Tastes like your stew. You should cook, eat and then kiss me more often. Makes it a lot better,” he grinned.
“Oh, come on.” Sairek laughed, giving him a gentle thwack on the top of Cyial’s head.
Cyial playfully rubbed where Sairek bapped him. “Yeah, I know. We have to be careful with my saliva…”
Sairek thwacked Cyial at the top of his head again.
“H-Hey! What was that one for?” Cyial cried in playful admonishment.
“As if your saliva is a ‘bad’ thing.” Sairek sniffed.
Cyial furrowed his eyebrows. “If I wasn’t worried about knocking over our bowls of stew, I would tackle and wrestle you into submission right now.”
“I guess that’s another perk of cooking then, huh?” Sairek smirked.
“Your food won’t pacify me for long.” Cyial cautioned, taking another bite as he deliberately stared at Sairek.
* * *
“... … …”
“... … …”
Varhi and Fuyiki stared at one another rather uncomfortably as they sat at the kitchen table, while Nayleen “toyed” around in the kitchen to prepare supper. The silence wasn’t lost on her, but she was simply allowing them to talk.
…Or rather, not talk, with the way this was going.
Fuyiki cleared his throat, and Varhi saw that the man was appraising him for what may have been the third time. It only made him feel more like he wanted to get out of here. The only thing they had spoken to each other so far were introductions; until just now.
“You are looking at me with a level of nervousness that is uncanny.” Fuyiki said outright, then continued. “What is it about magic that makes you fear it so much?”
“I just don’t—” Varhi began, then paused, his eyebrows furrowing. “...Wait, fear? I’m not scared of magic.” He protested.
“Yes you are.” Fuyiki pressed.
“Oi!” Varhi’s left eye twitched in annoyance. Nayleen turned around from the stove to eye both of them as Varhi stood up from his chair, pressing his hands on the table; a motion that wasn’t aggressive or inherently hostile, but the mercenary was glaring at Fuyiki like he had been insulted. “Nayleen never told me that you were practicing psychology as well as magic.”
“Don’t get me wrong, you are quite intelligent for a boy your age. It’s a little uncanny, actually. But wisdom comes with age and experience, and it is quite literally my job to teach students around your age.” Fuyiki began, his hands remaining flat and casual in front of him against the table. Varhi continued to watch him warily. “You do know that a good teacher does more than simply teach and instruct, right? Have you had someone like that? Someone who has not just guided you and educated you on a specific subject, but was also a guardian figure in your life as well?”
Varhi flinched slightly at that, and knowing that Fuyiki saw the flinch, he let out a sigh. “Yes…” he admitted.
Fuyiki nodded patiently. “Sometimes I must be like that to my students as well. Every child by the time they’re your age usually has a different story. Sometimes those children confide in me like a guardian or even a parent. Sometimes those kids don’t even have a father figure in their lives, or a mother; or even both parents, and I’m the closest thing they have to that. I’ve had many kids confide to me, many times, for all sorts of things, and I’m obviously not young. I’ve been teaching for many years.
“Varhi, was it? You hide it very well, but I can tell that this isn’t the ‘real’ you. How you behave is a front to protect yourself. You don’t ‘hate’ magic. You fear magic; and you hate that fear, so instead of being scared of it, you pretend to be just uncomfortable instead.” Fuyiki stated.
Varhi clenched his teeth, about to speak, but Fuyiki cut him off before he could. “You are going to deny it, but you don’t know why you are afraid of it, or uncomfortable. That is what makes it so frustrating for you.”
“N-No, it’s because… Well, mages are just so…” Varhi tried to start.
Fuyiki calmly stood up as well, hands interlocking behind his back as he calmly took a couple paces to the side of the table and turned towards Varhi, who glared at him, uncomfortable at this impromptu ‘interrogation’.
“Yes, I agree with you. A lot of them are like that.” Fuyiki started. “Believe me boy; it was my main motive to become a teacher in the first place, so youngsters like you hopefully do not become like that and instead become better, well-adjusted individuals in their pursuit of the art,” he nodded in understanding without Varhi even having to finish.
“However, not all of them are like that. You have a stereotype in your mind which you use as an excuse to disguise the ‘hate’ you have, which is used to hide your fear. Getting angry at something we are afraid of is an instinctual line of emotional defense people tend to cater to.” The older man stated. “However, a lot of the anger you exhibit isn’t genuine anger. You are roleplaying being angry a lot of the time. You do the motions but don’t have the same commitment.”
“...Okay, with all due respect, I think I’ve had enough of this.” Varhi stated dryly, standing upright from the table. “I’m not going to be lectured by someone who thinks they know me after just meeting me barely ten minutes ago.”
“Varhi—” Nayleen started, but Fuyiki held up a hand to silence her, then returned to placing it behind his back.
“Before you go, if I may request that you reconsider, and acknowledge that everything I just said is true or not. Think deeply for a moment. Was anything I said genuinely wrong, or are you lying to yourself, and thus to me in a bid to deny everything simply to avoid being embarrassed?” Fuyiki asked.
Varhi had his back turned, but paused hearing Fuyiki’s first line. His back remained facing them, though he stood for a long pause. Abruptly, he turned back around, his cape flourishing behind him again as he stepped back forward and shoved himself back down into his seat hard, almost like an unhappy pouting child. His expression was one of absolute distaste as he folded his arms over his front. “Mages…” he muttered under his breath. “Fucking psychologist mages, of all things…” He swore. “This is the worst.”
“Holy crap. You actually made him sit back down. What’d you do?” Nayleen said from where she stood in front of the stove.
Fuyiki spread his hands out. “That was actually the first step to learning magic. Well, a partial step, anyway.
“Bullshit. Explain.” Varhi ordered, his tone expressing impatience, as did his posture.
Fuyiki glanced at him disapprovingly for his repeated foul language, but didn’t reprimand him for it. Instead he simply began to explain.
“How controlling the flow of magic works is based on how we know about ourselves.” Fuyiki said, moving back to his side of the table and sliding the seat back underneath him as he slowly sat down. “To control magic, we must control the ethereal within us, if we do not understand ourselves, then by extension, we do not know the energy within our bodies, since it is an extension of us. A spiritual one.” Fuyiki explained, looking directly at Varhi the entire time.
“We have ethereal flow within us regardless either way, yes, but our souls are what can shape that ethereal into… Well, pretty much anything. Magic is defined by the extension of one’s will. A strong enough mage, if they wished, with enough willpower, could throw you asunder with nothing but a mere thought; no guidance on how to perform the ‘spell’ is actually needed. It’s truly a miraculous power created by nothing more than one’s sheer desire. Of course, throwing a huge abundance of energy could cause that to happen too; but someone who is extremely powerful and efficient, and ‘really’ wanted that to happen, could in theory, do it with very little exertion of energy.” Fuyiki explained.
“So in other words, if I tried to hurt someone with magic, but didn’t actually have any desire to hurt towards them, then it would be a lot harder to do and take a lot more effort?” Nayleen asked.
“Well, that is the general rule, yes. There are exceptions, many of them more indirect. For example, flinging someone with the intent to kill would be quite difficult if you didn’t want to hurt them. But if you wanted to simply ‘stop’ them for all sorts of reasons…” Fuyiki explained but trailed off, glancing towards Nayleen. “Ah, but I am getting off track.” He said, looking back towards Varhi. “In your friends’ case though, he is… unique. I’ve never felt energy like this before.”
“Are you saying I have some latent magical power that’s impressive?” Varhi asked, a bored expression on his face.
“No, it’s quite the opposite, actually.” Fuyiki corrected him. “You’re nearly as magical as your everyday pebble on the ground. It's uncanny, actually.”
Varhi’s mouth opened half ajar. Nayleen snickered. Varhi shook his head and rolled his eyes before he spoke. “Well… I wasn’t expecting that answer. Still, it doesn’t matter to me. I have no interest in flinging spells around.”
“No, it’s not that you don’t have anything within you, Varhi.” Fuyiki corrected him. “You see, usually those who have troubled minds, are depressed, or other sorts of things have energy in them still, with waning power. You on the other hand, have energy within you, but any power is absolutely absent. I’ve never seen someone like you before.” Fuyiki mused thoughtfully.
“...I’ve had it rough, sure. And I’m not afraid of dying, either. I’m not thinking of committing suicide or whatever though if that’s your concern.” Varhi stated plainly. “There’s more than enough times I could have laid down and just accepted death and I didn’t, after all.”
“That’s the other thing. I can sense the willpower in you, and yet, it’s blank. It’s extremely unnatural.” Fuyiki said.
“It wouldn’t possibly have anything to do with the fact I have allegedly died before, would it?” Varhi asked.
“...Huh?” Fuyiki let out, taken aback.
“It’s… a long story. I apparently had a mortal wound in the head, and was dead. At least temporarily. I was revived though. Cyial thinks that it’s caused me some kind of amnesia, though. Selective Amnesia, I think he called it. Or at least whatever is going on is similar. Point is that I am missing much of my memories from my past before that accident and even a bit after. The only thing that seems to have survived is some muscle memory stuff.” Varhi explained.
“Erm… the memory loss should have nothing to do with that. Revival is possible as long as the soul doesn’t fade away, become damaged, or start being reabsorbed by Yggdrasil.” Fuyiki said. “A soul would only fade away without the presence of ethereal. A large concentration of Yggdrasil’s magic around the body can help ‘entrap’ a soul in place for a while to buy time for a revival process, but that’s merely a very temporary stopgap. A soul would only be damaged by being exposed to black magic without its vessel. Considering you are standing here before us now young man, it’s obvious your soul wasn’t destroyed. No soul means no moving body, as without a soul, there’s nothing to ‘will’ the body to move, just like magic.” Fuyiki stated matter-of-factly. “Do you know the theory of how souls had come to be in the first place?”
“Not really.” Varhi admitted with a shake of his head. “The cycle of life is taught to everyone fairly early on in basic concepts; pretty much once they are old enough to start grasping at the concept of death itself, but nobody really talks more beyond that.” He paused, considering, then tilted his head slightly at Fuyiki “...I’m guessing, based on the direction you’ve been going with this so far, that souls have something to do with one’s will to even stay alive, right? Like, someone with an extremely strong willpower can maybe resist death a little bit longer?”
“An incomplete answer, but yes, in some circumstances that is true. Souls are effectively a very, very big collection of Yggdrasil’s energy and will — the ‘will’ being Yggdrassils ‘will to live’, which is formed into a little ball. Ethereal helps sustain it and keep it stable and ultimately grow as the vessel itself does.” Fuyiki began.
“As babies, or even as early as embryos, our souls are a clean slate. Our experiences in life is what gives those souls definition, and defines us as… ‘us’, and by extension, our magic as well. For example, you can write words on a piece of paper, and they’re all the same letters, but no two person’s handwriting is ever the exact same.”
“Alright. And once we die?” Varhi pressed.
“Once the soul is out of the body, it persists for a short time, but drifts ever slowly back to Yggdrasil. The further away it is without its body, the more that ‘will’ begins to evaporate, until eventually the will is gone and it recedes back into Yggdrasil as another ‘blank’ soul, requiring to sit around Yggdrasil’s presence before enough of Yggdrasil’s ‘will to live’ is gathered to reincarnate into another living creature. Since these souls become blank slates again, ‘who you were’ becomes no more.” Fuyiki explained. “The cumilation of this 'will to live' for a reincarnation can take multiple decades, to potentially over a century. Sometimes larger souls separate a fragment of themselves into smaller souls, which are usually smaller animals and creatures. They take much less time to reincarnate, and slowly grow through animals to be bigger soul-creatures, like humans.”
Varhi’s expression shifted. He uncrossed his arms and folded them on top of the table, thinking for a moment to process everything that was being explained to him. After a time, he spoke again “So… What would happen if, say, part of the soul’s will was gone from being separated from the body for too long, but was eventually brought back to the body to revive it?”
Fuyiki eyed him for a moment. Then stood up without a word to walk to a small wardrobe. He pulled out a piece of paper and pencil, then seated himself at the table again and began getting to work with the pencil. Varhi and Nayleen eyed each other briefly, at least until Nayleen turned around to stir the stew she was working on, though she kept giving curious glances at Fuyiki.
After nearly three minutes, Fuyiki slapped the pencil on the table down and stood up, sliding the paper on the table along with him as he walked until it was over on Varhi’s side and he spun it around with his fingers so the mercenary could view it.
“Assuming you’re going with theories on why you are as you are now,” Fuyiki began, and tapped on the paper. “Let’s say this is your soul, and you just died.” He tapped at the paper again. “The soul starts going away after a while, makes it halfway there, and then somehow, someone is able to locate your soul with your body, then sure, the soul will go back into the body. Your line of thinking is correct. You would revive with a partially-erased soul.” Fuyiki nodded. “However…” He tapped at the lower part of the paper. “Remember these 'words' here... This is 'you'. These words and pictures on the paper? These define your memories, experiences and knowledge. What makes you, ‘you’... those are stored within your brain.
“Think of your brain like my hand, which has been written and drawn on this paper, thus giving this paper ‘definition’. This paper used to be blank like your soul, see? The brain is what ‘writes’ on the soul, with the experiences you have, thus making you, ‘you’. Even if the soul was half erased, if the brain is preserved, it should, over time, write back into the soul with the memories you have. It might take a while to regain your recollection, a few days, weeks, months, possibly even years, depending on a bunch of circumstances. Eventually though you would be back to the old you again. More or less. You might not be able to recollect everything perfectly, because our memories themselves are imperfect and biased, but anything and everything important should still be there, and faulty memories could always help be corrected. Diaries are extremely useful for this."
“I see. But... what if the brain was damaged, too? I did have a fatal head injury.” Varhi pressed.
“In that case…” Fuyiki began, taking an eraser, and erasing half the diagram. Then he slapped the eraser down and looked at Varhi expectantly.
“...Makes sense.” Varhi said. “So no hope of recovering those memories, then...”
“No, that is incorrect.” Fuyiki paused, lifting the paper up, and held the paper nearly level in Varhi’s eyes, and angled it slightly. “Do you see it?”
Varhi’s eyes blinked slowly, then went back up to look at Fuyiki. “See what? All I see is where you erased everything.”
“But it still exists. Even though it is erased, there are still the imprints and smudges of what was once there.” Fuyiki explained to him, putting the paper down. “I can write over what was there, but those imprints will still exist, underneath whatever new definition is put on there. So, we may not still be able to accurately read it, but those imprints will still exist, thus they will still be a piece that defines this piece of paper, even if it is very faint.” Fuyiki said. “So, if I gave you this piece of paper, even though the diagram is gone, if you know something within it happened for a fact, then it can still be defined by that, yes? Assuming what you said is true, though you do not remember dying and having that head injury, you are still indirectly defined by that experience. That is this piece of paper’s story. It is no different than your soul. Or even your brain.”
“Like how I don’t remember my parents, but I do remember that I had parents?”
“Yes.” Fuyiki said, albeit a little uncomfortably at hearing that news.
Varhi studied him briefly. “I don’t need your sympathy if that’s why you look uncomfortable.” He paused, then continued his questioning. “So is this why I still retained a lot of knowledge despite losing most of my memories that have to do with specifics of my past?” Varhi asked. “For example, before I lost my memories, I made a blueprint greatsword design. After I lost my memories, I made that design again, despite having no collection of even making the blueprint in the first place. For me, I thought it was as if it was just a new idea I had come up with, only to discover my past self had already created that design before when I found it in my old home before the accident.”
Fuyiki shrugged. “I cannot say anything on stuff like that. Remember, I’m a teacher, not a doctor.” He said with a shake of his head. “It may be impossible to know without understanding the exact extent of the physical damage your body apparently took. The soul becoming partially erased is bad enough, and specifics of what is causing memory loss in your case is even more complex without understanding where exactly the damage to the brain was, or even how you were revived. This is all merely theoretical in your case. Even if your soul wasn’t damaged but your brain was, for all the soul knows, the brain simply tells the soul that ‘this didn’t happen’ and will effectively erase what was there on the paper and rewrite over it in that fashion as well, just like I have done. It’s almost no different.”
Varhi frowned, realization and understanding starting to come to him. “...Your example is not even the worst case scenario then, is it. It can go all the way? A complete wipe?”
“Indeed.” Fuyiki nodded. “A very damaged brain may revert a soul back to a blank slate all on its own, and thus that eventually causes a weak will to live. When we die, the brain’s activity starts to shut down rapidly, and those memories will disappear with it. That’s why it’s important to try and repair a body as quickly as possible to prevent further damage to the brain and then put the soul back in, otherwise the body will just remain in a huskless coma even if the revival is extremely forced.”
“Could a damaged soul ever be repaired? Like if it was partially faded, would you just have half a soul?” Varhi asked.
“Not exactly. It would regrow back over time, with new definitions, of course.” Fuyiki answered. “However, if we’re talking about a portion of it having been evaporated through black magic, then the less of a soul there is, the more difficult reviving would be. Someone may end up being in a coma for months or even years before their soul regrows back enough for them to regain consciousness. It takes a very long time. There could be so little of the soul left however that it just doesn’t work at all.”
“Why?”
“The thing about souls is they’re attached to two things; Yggdrasil’s will, and their hosts’ body. If they go anywhere else, it’s on a journey to go between either of those two things. Otherwise, you could take two people’s souls and swap them.” Fuyiki explained. “The only exception would be blank souls, but blank souls are not ‘people’. They could become anything. A human, or a bird, or even an ant. Those blank souls that start off in someone ‘grow’ into a ‘something’ over time, and even then, the process isn’t always successful. Sometimes babies are stillborn, after all. You cannot place someone else’s soul in another person’s body who already has their own definitions. They would reject each other. However…” Fuyiki paused, leaning on his elbows and cupping his hands underneath his chin. Rather than continuing, he looked at Varhi expectantly.
Varhi’s expression shifted as he thought about everything Fuyiki had said, and his eyes widened slightly. “Wait…” He opened his mouth, and closed it again, rechecking his thoughts before he gave an answer. “If a body can accept a blank or damaged soul, their bodies would fall into a coma until everything was rewritten, it would basically be another… ‘you’. In that same regard… a new one... A soul can accept a… a 'blank; body?”
“Correct. Of course, that’s actually just in theory. Keep in mind, the brain does the writing, and not the soul. The soul is a piece of paper, while the brain is the pencil. With no paper, you cannot write, and if the pencil is broken, you cannot write anything further down. But if you just swapped one pencil for another and resumed writing… After all, that’s what Yggdrasil effectively does with the paper every reincarnation, doesn’t it?”
“...Has anyone ever done this before?” Varhi asked.
Fuyiki shook his head. “As I said, it’s in theory. From what we understand, there’s no reason it shouldn’t work, but it has never been proven in practice. There’s nobody after all who grows up in a complete blank slate. You can’t just shove a fully grown soul into an embryo or baby either. The soul is much too big for such a small host, and such small bodies do not have the energy required to sustain a soul of that size. Even if it did work, the brain being blank itself would erase the definitions of the soul, so it’s not like you could do that to reincarnate as who you are anyway. Our souls are volatile, Varhi. They don’t sustain very long without our bodies without some heavy maintenance and that only delays the inevitable for a short time at best.”
Varhi grunted, looking away from Fuyiki towards Nayleen, who was looking at him with an appraising look. Then she shook her head. Varhi blinked once at her in understanding. The question he knew he was coming was asked by the older man. “Why are you so interested in how souls work?”
“Sorry, I cannot say specifics. Not yet anyway.” Varhi replied. “You’ll have to wait for Sairek before I can answer that.”
Fuyiki raised an eyebrow, expressing his suspicion. Varhi closed his eyes. With the wealth of information he was just provided, it wasn’t fair to leave the man completely hanging. “Let’s just say some people did some very bad things to me and I’m trying to cover all angles on what may have been done to me. Including the whole… ‘dying and being revived’ thing. That’s all.” He supplied. “With no memories at all of what happened, I can only guess and surmise what happened to me, and why I suffer whatever symptoms I do... including this fear of magic you kept insisting about.”
“Hm.”
“Still…” Varhi began, opening his eyes again, his gaze dropping down to his hands that were still on the table. “I suppose it is good to know that my soul should be relatively intact, in a manner of speaking. Or even if it was damaged, it probably has recovered by now. I don’t remember what happened the day of the accident, and many months afterwards. Even my earlier days of regaining consciousness are still a complete blur, but there’s some things deep in me that I know happened. I just feel it. I suppose those are the ‘imprints’ on the piece of paper you were talking about earlier. So I suppose in that regard, it is reassuring to know that the ‘me’ inside of me is still me and not somebody else.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but considering you mentioned head damage of fatal levels, I am surprised that you are still able to cognitively function at all, even after being revived. There’s only two explanations for that.” Fuyiki said, eyeing Varhi cautiously. “You’re either lying, which I doubt, or whoever healed you had medical science far beyond what the public knows. In which case, I’m going to assume the incident happened in Kior. It still doesn’t explain one thing, though.”
Varhi simply looked up at Fuyiki expectantly but silently.
“Your brain cognitively is fine, that much is certain. You’re an intelligent, perceptive young man, even though you often pretend not to be. However, the lack of Yggdrasil’s willpower inside of you does mean there is something strange about your soul. Or, you are cursed, but I highly doubt that since I sense no other energies around you. I’d need to take a more thorough look to know for sure though.”
Varhi eyed Nayleen again, though this time it was to assess her reaction. She gave him nothing though, simply intent on listening to their conversation. “There’s nothing else you can find?” Varhi asked.
“Probably not.” Fuyiki replied. “As much as souls, Yggdrasil and magic rely on one another like a trinity, two of those three subjects are actually not my expertise. The monastery in Lamen would be better for that. They would be able to take a better look at your soul proper. All I can do is simply make sure that the energy around and within you is clean and there’s no foul play afoot. Wouldn’t take more than ten or fifteen minutes.”
Varhi’s expression flicked from uncomfortable, to resigned to his fate as he glanced at Nayleen who was looking at him expectantly. “May as well...” He exhaled. “What do I need to do?”
“Just take a seat on the couch to be more comfortable. I need to get a couple of things, first.” Fuyiki said, standing up. “Oh, and you’ll need to take off your clothes. The energy around—”
“Okay.” Varhi interrupted as he stood up and walked his way to the living room, already beginning to pry his gloves off of his hands.
Fuyiki watched him for a moment, then glanced back at Nayleen. “No questions or protests or demanding why? The Prince could learn a thing or two from him.”
“You’d be surprised.” Nayleen commented as she flashed Fuyiki an amused grin. She set the stew to simmer so it wouldn’t overcook and set her utensils down, following Varhi out into the living room as he stripped himself down from everything completely. Once that was done, he sat himself in the middle of the couch, unashamed, though his arms folded casually onto his legs as he kneeled forward. His eyes glanced up at Nayleen. “I guess you got to see all of me after all.” He mused jokingly. “This better not have been part of your plan to lure me here.”
“I promise it wasn’t. It’s a good side bonus for me, though~” She teased.
Varhi snickered. “I hope you realize this goes against everything I tend to do. Sitting vulnerable and exposed like this to a stranger, let alone a mage.” Varhi informed her.
Nayleen stepped closer, examining Varhi, or more specifically his arms and her eyes went a little wide. “Oh, wow. You weren’t kidding. Magic really does give you goosebumps!”
“Nobody believes me when I say that, y’know. They think I’m overexaggerating.” Varhi said, glancing over at her again. “I know you’re joking around, but I can tell that you are genuinely concerned about me. I still don’t know how to feel about that, though.” He admitted.
“It’s okay. I know you need a lot of time to process it.” Nayleen nodded. “Work through it at your own pace, Varhi.”
She sat down next to him as they waited. She kept passing Varhi curious glances, but Varhi just stared mostly ahead, uncaring about his exposure. Fuyiki returned a couple moments later, carrying a few reagents, though his steps hesitated as he noticed Nayleen and then cleared his throat. “You need to leave, little lady.” He said.
“Wh—” She began, and closed her mouth. She looked at Fuyiki, then Varhi, then smiled. “Okay,” she said, mimicking Varhi’s nonchalant tone earlier as she pushed herself up. “I’ll be right in the kitchen if you need anything.”
“She can stay and watch if she wants.” Varhi said, after she took a couple of steps. She turned back around to look at Fuyiki. “I don’t really care.”
Fuyiki had an uncomfortable expression. “She’s going to see everything. And it’s highly inappropriate.”
“She’s already seen ‘that’, and a more… vulnerable, embarrassing part of me that wasn’t my penis.” Varhi stated dryly, eyes peering up at the man. “She just wants to make sure I’ll be okay. I’m extremely uncomfortable around magic and this goes against all of my instincts right now, including my gut. I never ignore my gut and I never let anyone cast any magic on me if I can help it, so take it as a huge compliment that I’m putting this much faith simply because Nayleen suggests you are one of the ‘good ones’, old man.”
Fuyiki sighed in resignation. “Alright, fine…” He lamented, bending down to place items on the table in front of the sofa Varhi sat on, along with a towel he laid out onto the floor. There were a couple flasks of liquids, but they were clear, like water, so he couldn’t discern much from them. “Okay, stand up and stand on top of this towel. The first thing I need to do is cleanse you of any residual energy. So I’m going to pour some stuff onto you that will do just that. It’ll be just like water, but a bit more oily. It’s basically a warding spell in liquid form. It will not hurt you.”
Varhi nodded and stood up, stepping onto the towel as instructed. Fuyiki popped one of the flasks open, stood over Varhi, and steadily poured it all over him, starting from the top of his head, and then running it down his neck, face, shoulder, and elsewhere. Varhi shuddered as he felt it flow over him. It wasn’t very cold, but it itched a little, which only grew more fierce, though subtly so, as time passed. He squeezed his eyes shut as it poured over his face, which started to make him apprehensive as he couldn’t see what Fuyiki was doing to him.
“Very good.” Fuyiki complimented him. Here.” He said. Varhi felt a dry cloth being pressed against his forehead, and then wiped it over his eyes. He blinked them open once he felt the cloth draw away and his apprehension eased. Fuyiki was standing in front of him, and Nayleen was watching curiously from behind the teacher.
Varhi glanced down at himself. His body was shiny like he was covered in thick layers of sweat. Curiously, he lifted an arm, and then his eyes went wide. The liquid and oil on him was spreading all over, unnaturally so. It was like it was moving on its own, separate from gravity. Parts of him that weren’t covered, were getting covered. “W-Woah…” he let out nervously. That explained the itching feeling… especially in his hair. He felt his heart pounding in his chest while his stomach was giving lots of signals of ‘this is very wrong’ to his psyche.
“It’s okay, you’re doing great, Varhi.” Nayleen reminded him, seeing him looking uncomfortable. Varhi gave her a glance and apprehensive nod of acknowledgement.
“Next, I’ll need you to drink something. It’ll taste bad.” Fuyiki informed him as he picked up a second flask. “This is basically just a highlight for me to view through. It’ll spread through your body and I’ll be able to examine your energies through my own.
Varhi stared at the flask, then at Fuyiki blankly. “You made a… probing potion?” He questioned dryly.
“...I classify it as a diagnosis potion, thank you very much.” Fuyiki frowned at him disapprovingly.
“Sure, sure…” Varhi rolled his eyes, unconvinced. He opened his mouth wide, signaling he was ready to ingest.
Fuyiki opened the flask, and slowly poured it into Varhi’s mouth. The boy closed his eyes shut tightly, nearly gagging as he grimaced. The thickness was like syrup, but it was anything but sweet. The taste was like sucking on rusty copper; whatever that tasted like; but it was the definition that filled his head that seemed weirdly appropriate to describe the taste.
When he was finished, he wretched, swinging his head back and forth and let loose a deep burp from within his chest, which made it only taste worse. He held a hand up close to his mouth, almost covering it, but he resisted as he swallowed the air a few times, then coughed. “Good grief…” He gagged out, his tone tense. “If magic can do the impossible, then why can’t you damn wizards make medicines at least tastes ingestible?...”
Fuyiki ignored his cursing outburst, staring at Varhi deeply. Varhi after giving a couple more coughs, cleared the remainder of his throat and stood back straight, aside from occasional fidgeting of discomfort. Fuyiki stared at him for a minute, and then another minute, and then another. Varhi shuddered slightly, starting to feel rather cold, and he crossed his arms over his torso in a vain attempt to keep himself warm. He was getting impatient and wanted to tell the man to hurry up, but he held his tongue. Occasionally he would give Nayleen a quick glance, and she would meet his gaze, and give him a gentle reassuring smile. Her eyes kept flicking down his body though. It was obvious she wasn’t trying to stare, but curiosity kept getting the better of her.
Well, at least he lacked embarrassment anyway.
Finally, Fuyiki simply shook his head. “Nothing. You’re clean as far as curses go. But something is definitely wrong with your soul and I still don’t know what it could be. I just know it isn’t a curse holding you back. Make sure you tell the monastery that, if you visit them.”
“As far as my soul is concerned, what about it is ‘off’ to you, exactly?” Varhi questioned.
“I can’t sense it at all, just like I can’t sense any of Yggdrasil’s willpower. Only your own willpower is there. I suppose something could just be blocking it, or you are the worst candidate for a mage I have ever seen.” Fuyiki supplied. Varhi simply grunted acknowledgement as a response. Fuyiki flicked his eyes over him one final time, examining his shivering state. “Alright, I’ll prepare a bath for you so you can wash this stuff off. Nayleen, get him a drink of water from my fridge if you’d please as well, so he can wash the taste of that potion off. When the hot water is ready I’ll come get you.”
“Once you’re done cleaning, supper should be ready for you Varhi.” Nayleen nodded reassuringly.
“Sure, thanks. Both of you.” Varhi said, rubbing his left arm idly. Fuyiki soon stepped towards the washroom. “...Actually, could you wait another moment? I have another question.” Varhi asked. Fuyiki paused, and turned back to Varhi expectantly. “Sometimes, when I remember things, or am being told things, I get a splitting headache, like my brain itself is going to tear apart. It’s extremely painful, and has caused me to pass out more than once already. The second time it happened, I even regressed in my memories a little, according to everyone” Varhi explained. “Is that a symptom of my brain being damaged… or my soul?”
“Either. Or both. If it’s related to memories though, and not general knowledge, and judging that something is wrong with your soul, if I had to make a wager, I’d say it was due to your soul, rather than your brain.” Fuyiki replied, turning to face him completely. “Like I said, your soul is like a piece of paper, with things written on it. Your memories are recorded in your brain, but your soul isn’t defined by those memories. This causes a problem, like a cog being jammed. Your brain knows something happened, but you don’t. This creates a conflict. My best guess is that what you’re experiencing is the remnants of an erased memory linked to other events that are connected to that sensation you experienced once before, which is creating a phantom pain. Think of it like writing over a wrinkle in the paper. The text may be erased, but the wrinkle will forever persist. An eraser isn’t going to get rid of that.”
“Hmm… Sometimes I remember things, vaguely, but it’s very hard, and painful. Most of it is like it’s enshrouded in fog.” Varhi said, pressing his left hand to the top of his head, as if he was nursing it. “But anyway, what you’re suggesting is that I probably don’t have a form of amnesia, right?”
“I wouldn’t rule out the possibility. My diagnosis may be wrong, I am not an expert on souls or the brain, like I said, but I don’t personally think so, whatever that answer may be worth.” Fuyiki answered.
“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”
Fuyiki turned back around and stepped out this time. Varhi turned back to Nayleen, a frown on his face. Nayleen watched him carefully. “Are you alright?” She asked.
“Well, according to him, something is very wrong with me and we don’t know what.” Varhi chuckled. “But yeah, I’m fine, for now.” Varhi then upturned his palms in a shrug. “Well, at least it doesn’t seem to be life threatening. It just prevents me from remembering things before my supposed death, and… from being a mage. Not that I care about that last part.”
“We’ll figure it out eventually. We have a few questions answered now though, right?” Nayleen asked.
“Still many more I need to ask Jimmy. The questions I have for the monastery can wait for now. Unlike Jimmy, my condition doesn’t seem to be getting worse, so I don’t think I have to worry about a time crunch for me.” Varhi answered. “I know what happened to me now, more or less, so I don’t ‘need’ the memories. And I don’t need the ability to cast magic. Jimmy is more important for answers right now, and I need to save him anyway as soon as possible. There is a potential time limit in getting him out…”
“What do you mean?”
“No doubt Avotash has imprisoned him for treason, and that can come with a death sentence. It—It could possibly even banishment into the Underworld.” Varhi said. “Trials take a while to go through, but if it’s against the King, there’s no chance it’ll be a fair one. He’s got about a month left at best. Our visit to the neutral council spilling everything will probably buy a few more months if it doesn’t absolve him entirely. It’s something that I’d rather do sooner rather than later though. Aside from the fact that he’s, you know, improperly jailed, and the longer he’s in jail is a day more he’s been wrongly imprisoned.”
“I understand.” Nayleen nodded. “Hopefully things will work out and you won’t have to break in.”
Varhi chortled. Then Fuyiki’s voice rang out that the water was ready, and for them to carry Varhi’s clothes. Wordlessly, Nayleen pulled herself off of the sofa and bent down to pick up his clothes and carried them until they reached the bathroom and Nayleen set them all down in a pile. Varhi eyed the tub of steaming hot water, and without a word, moved to step himself inside. He turned around, facing Fuyiki and Nayleen. “...It’s probably a bit late for this, but…” he began, then in a swift and single motion, pulled the curtains to a close. “No peeking!” He called out from behind.
* * *
Sairek woke up with a gasp, sweat covering all over his frame. Slowly, he pushed himself upright, coughing; his mouth felt like sand and leathery.
Cyial, who had his head resting below Sairek’s right arm, a bit lower on their bedding, opened his eyes from their resting position and stared at Sairek.
“W-Water…” Sairek gasped.
Cyial with urgency rolled himself out of the bed and grabbed a canteen of water for Sairek. Sairek took it in shaky hands and gulped it down greedily. In about two minutes, he drank the whole thing, only taking short brief rests to exhale and inhale air before chugging the water again. While Sairek drank, Cyial’s hands touched Sairek’s body in a few places; checking his forehead to feel for a fever, then his neck to check his pulse, and then his chest, checking the rate of his heartbeat. In each location, he felt the sweat the other boy was emitting. “What happened…? You’re sweating like you have a fever, but you don’t have one.”
Sairek didn’t answer until he finished drinking the water with a gasp. He cleared his throat, clutching his chest, feeling his own dampness. “You don’t feel it…?”
“Feel what?”
“It’s so… so hot…” Sairek panted. “I… I’m burning up… It feels like all the water is actually evaporating out of me…”
“But it’s only early morning…” Cyial murmured. “You don’t have a fever, so you aren’t sick. And the tent should be heat resistant, unless…” He paused, getting up and zipping down the tent’s entrance to take a peek outside. He glanced in the direction of the sun, about four or perhaps five in the morning. Sairek was right though. He didn’t feel it much himself inside of the tent, but outside here, it was blazing, even for him. It was quite hot for this early in the morning, it shouldn’t be this hot so early.
Trying to clear his thoughts, Cyial tried to concentrate on the weave of Ethereal as best as he could; though he didn’t need to try very hard to detect the problem. His eyes widened in both amazement and horror at what he saw when he glanced opposite of the ocean. He stepped outside of the tent, following the flows of Ethereal, and only needed to take a few steps as he looked up along the cliffs and his face became sunken. “Oh… Oh shit,” he cursed. He dipped himself back inside the tent urgently. “You need to look outside, Sairek… Now.”
Cyial’s tone urged him to action and he grunted as he pushed himself up and half staggered towards Cyial. Both boys dressed in only boxers stepped out of the tent to the outside and Cyial pointed mostly southwards towards a large amount of billowing black smoke that rose up to the sky.
“No… Oh, no… Don’t tell me that’s a…” Sairek whispered in horrific realization.
“The weave doesn’t lie… All of the fire energy is amassing in the direction of the smoke all over.” Cyial gulped, and then looked towards Sairek’s emerald eyes. “Sairek, I am pretty sure that's a forest fire…”
