Fleeting Strength

Nia stared at one of the books after returning to the library. The prayer that had allowed her to read the books had worn off.

And which was the only spell that I haven’t tried to analyze and reproduce? Right. The one that allowed me to get more information! I should write a book on how to be an idiot in another world. And there’s another title for a light novel. I should take up writing.

She sighed and sat down on one of the chairs, staring at the ceiling above her.

She was unsure, how much time had passed, when she heard Qiin’s voice again.

“I thought you’d use the time here to learn or practice.” He sat on the table in front of her. Nia didn’t look at him, but searched for another interesting spot at the ceiling. There had to be one …

“Are you thinking about something?” Qiin’s voice cut through her ruminations.

Sighing, she righted herself and looked at the monk. He wouldn’t just go away, and she had to deal with him. He was just like a problem.

He is a problem. A problem that brings even more problems with him. Problems really are pack animals.

“Your glare gives me the distinct feeling that you don’t like me.”

“Oh?” Nia snorted. “Give me a reason why I should like you.”

Qiin was silent for a moment. “You have a point there. But I’d expect you to get along well with your fellow summonees.”

“Give me a reason for that, too. And don’t just say: ‘You’re from the same world!’”

“How about ‘you have to work together in order to defeat Saesquar’?” Qiin raised an eyebrow at her.

“That’s an incentive, not a reason,” Nia answered and averted her gaze. “Some things are not as easy as you’d like them to be.”

“I guess you’re right.” Qiin sighed and stood up. “I just hope that you can pull your act together in the time that is left.”

“And how much time is that?” Nia looked back at the monk. Her anger made way for some kind of resignation.

“My best guess is, that you have roughly a month, which is already not much time to hone your skills. Which is why we should continue with your training.” He pointed at a free space in the Library. “Go and sing a prayer for me. One that makes me stronger. I want to see what you’re capable of.”

Nia rolled her eyes. There were songs she barely remembered, and all of them were just there to praise some mythical figure no one had ever seen. Not to mention that she hadn’t really memorized a lot of the songs themselves.

“What are you waiting for? I told you that I wanted to hear you sing.” Qiin looked at her like a father that was about to discipline a child.

“Fine.” Nia played the role of a petulant child and got up. She walked to the indicated spot and scraped her knowledge of one of the prayers together.

Then she began to sing. Her voice hit notes that she was unfamiliar with, and the song seemed to build its melody by itself. She changed the text slightly to indicate Qiin as the target, and found words that rhymed. The song itself wasn’t made better by her choices, but it at least stayed a song.

Qiin flexed his fingers when she finished, then moved. A gust of wind hit her when he stopped directly in front of her.

“Your song was awkward,” he told her directly to the face, “but effective nonetheless. I wonder what your magic is capable of when you learn to sing proper songs.” Although there was praise in his voice, he looked a lot more like a predator that had found a delicious steak on the forest floor.

That’s scary! Don’t get this close to me!

He took a step backwards and looked at his own hands once more, the smile on his face told Nia that the results had been far better than he had anticipated. Especially for a half-botched song. The smile faded as he looked back at her. “Try the original version. The one that targets yourself.”

Nia waited for her heart to calm down somewhat, then nodded and closed her eyes. She began to sing and felt her magic resonate. Her mind followed along, encouraging the melody. It felt good. As if this was the natural state for her and her magic.

When the last note left her mouth, it felt as if something locked into place. She opened her eyes and looked at Qiin.

“How do you feel?” His gaze was mostly impassive, but the slightly raised eyebrows betrayed his curiosity. Well, all his actions betrayed his curiosity.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “Mostly normal. I think I felt my magic react to the song.” She looked at her own fingers as if she could see the magic there.

“There’s only one way to find out for certain.” Qiin looked around the room then pointed at a piece of furniture in the room. “Try to lift one of the tables. With one hand.”

Nia returned to the table she had sat at and lifted the wood with both hands. It was surprisingly light. So she followed Qiin’s suggestion and used just one hand. It was still light. Too light. She pulled her hand back, so only her fingers were holding the table up, then she reduced the amount of fingers that held the table. Finally there was a comfortable amount of weight on her index finger alone.

“That’s impressive.” When Nia looked at Qiin, she got the feeling that his eyes were sparkling. “Try lifting it completely off the ground.”

Grabbing the wood with one hand, she tried to lift the table just from one edge. The wood protested audibly, but she had no problems lifting it completely into the air.

A moment later the table thudded heavily back on the ground. It had been just a few minutes, but the strength had left her as suddenly as it had come. Her muscles felt sluggish and burned as if she had just overexerted herself.

“What happened?” Qiin walked over to her.

“I don’t know …” Suddenly, her legs gave in, and she would have fallen, if Qiin hadn’t caught her.

“Something’s wrong with your magic,” he observed. “Your aura is completely gone.”

“No, my strength is completely gone,” she murmured and tried to get her legs to obey her once more. But it was like trying to make a cooked spaghetti stand upright.

“I don’t understand.” The monk murmured and helped her to sit on a chair. “You should get your strength from the gods. What you just did should be nothing for them.”

“Maybe …” Her thoughts were sluggish, and it took her a while to puzzle the sentence together she wanted to say. The concept had been there immediately, but voicing it had become extremely hard as well. “Maybe Luaria is even weaker than you feared?”

Nia expected him to explode, to tell her that she shouldn’t blaspheme against his goddess. But all she earned was a strange look. “It might be better, if we suspend your lesson for the day.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. In this state she wouldn’t even be able to learn another prayer. She wasn’t even sure if she could recite the necessary prayer to understand the written word, even if she remembered it.

“I’ll bring you to your room.” His voice was cold, but he lifted her gently below her knees and her back, and carried her as if she was his newly-wed wife. She tried to lift a hand to protest, to make him put her down.

This is more than humiliating!

“Put me down,” she tried to protest verbally. “I can walk for myself.”

“You can’t even stand upright. There’s no way you’re able to walk.”

“Just … put me down. I’ll walk as soon as my strength recovers …” Her eyes betrayed her and started to close.

“I won’t let you sleep in the corridors or the library.”

Nia wanted to protest more, but it got harder and harder to fight against the darkness. Sleep overwhelmed her while he carried her through the temple.