Chapter 26

I woke up to the same trumpet, but it rang differently this morning. There wasn’t anything in particular about it, other than the playing being as good as the day before, but it didn’t agitate me as much. I looked out the window to see the sky still dark, the rising sun on the other side not yet casting rays of morning light overhead. But I knew it was coming up, and I got up to greet it.

“Morning,” I said to Christopher as he stood at the door, already awake and dressed. He nodded before stepping out, and in a moment I was with him in the hallway.

“Alright,” Brontus called out once we were all assembled. I did a quick headcount; thirteen of us still, no one new gone. “Little change of plans, from the captain himself. Magic lesson now, running later.”

We were herded to the courtyard, and although the sun was still obscured by the high walls of the base, red streaks overhead provided enough light to see easily. I was again paired with Andor who took us under the same secluded tree. “Today, let’s see about manipulating clothing.” I nodded as I waited, watching him fold his cloak and place it on the ground.

I reached deep inside of myself, pulling my mana through my chest. Faster. Faster. It grew and surged and burst, breaking through a dam I didn’t realize was holding it back. My soul was twofold and I felt her presence as I channeled our power.

“Wow!”

Rose? Is that you!? I could have sworn I heard her voice, but it was only for an instant, and no response answered my calling. But I didn’t let it break my concentration; if anything, it only focused it.

I didn’t close my eyes. I could see the cloak in front of me and in my mind’s eye simultaneously. I raised my hands, palms facing out. Mana flowed through the aether of space, extending my will beyond my body as if I were holding the cloak with my own two hands. I slowly inched my arms upward, watching with confidence as the cloak did the same, hovering above the ground. I raised one hand above the other, tilting the fabric, testing my control. The result was shaky, the cloak teetering side to side as I worked to maintain balance, but it turned, rotating as I gradually spun my hand in small circles.

Andor raised an eyebrow. “Impressive,” he commented, nodding with approval. I dropped the cloak, not exactly meaning to, but it fell to the ground as my mana petered out, like an exhausted muscle. “Ah, yes,” Andor continued, chuckling. “That endurance will come in time.”

I nodded, reflexively wiping some sweat from my brow that I didn’t even realize was forming. It took a good ten or twenty minutes to recover while Andor walked me through some breathing and meditation practices to help me recover faster.

“Alright, let’s try something else,” he said, putting his blue cloak back on. “Instead of controlling clothing on its own, I want you to control my clothing. Raise my arms.”

I nodded, mulling over it. In theory, it sounded like it would be possible. But in practice, a bit trickier.

Mana flowed unhindered as I embraced our power. It was warm, while I had felt her presence before as if she was nearby, it was now like she was hugging me. No more did I need to practise only the ebb and flow I had been working with, building up momentum with my mana before unleashing it. Now it flowed freely.

I held out my right hand, extending it to his left. My palm faced the sky and I breathed deep as my will settled into the fabric of his shirt. Rose’s soul danced with mine as I raised my hand, and we raised his arm.

“Good, good,” Andor praised, clearly satisfied with the result. He reached over with his own right hand and brushed along the length of his left arm. Immediately, it fell down, collapsing at his side.

I felt Rose yelp, wincing as our hold on his clothing was severed. It was like a red hot iron quickly pressing against us. It didn’t hurt me, but I felt the pain it inflicted on Rose, an empathetic bond that only seeming to manifest in the heat of the moment. It didn’t do any actual damage, but it reminded me of accidentally touching a boiling pot before jerking my hand away.

“W-What was that!?” I demanded, shocked. I tried to keep myself calm but I wanted to lunge at him, the one person here who actually seemed to genuinely be kind, for what he just did to Rose. I felt betrayed without even understanding what I had felt.

“Hmm? Oh, just a bit of mana separation. Or disentanglement, whatever you want to call it,” he remarked. “It’s a much more advanced skill, focussing on connecting to another’s mana. It’s a good counter to mages, but not something you can really learn at your level yet.” He gave a sympathetic smile, seeming to think I was asking more out of curiosity than anything else. “I will say though that the captain has a real nasty way of using it.”

I nodded. Clearly the intention wasn’t to hurt, and in this place where the magisoul was something that the mage just seemed to use and not care about, it made sense, in a twisted way.

“I’ll show you someday, though,” he reassured me, reacting to the expression I didn’t realize I was showing, though fortunately mistaking my horror for disappointment. “Don’t feel bad; there are probably only a couple of you recruits that are at that level. And with the progress you’re making, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were at that point in a year.”

I nodded again, keeping myself under control. A magic that affected mana, the soul, directly. That sounded strong. Almost like cheating. “So, could any mage use this to take someone down?” I asked, curious.

“Ah, well, there are some caveats with that,” Andor began to explain. “Mana magic is only effective with direct contact with the body. The only exception is mages, who are able to extend their mana outside of their body, like you just did, so I was able to make contact with your mana, using a simple repulsion technique. However, on top of that, it’s a magic that’s pretty much always outside of one’s natural affinity, so it’s harder to master. Well, except for the captain, like I said; mana magic is his natural affinity.”

We had begun to walk back, as the lesson time was over, but hearing that made me stop dead in my tracks.

It took only a fraction of a second for Andor to miss me beside him, turning around to see me catching back up. “Hungry?” he asked with a confused chuckle as I followed the rest inside to eat.

“Yes, famished,” I answered, fighting to keep a neutral, if not upbeat demeanour. But what was going through my thoughts was not food, but the newfound potential of this form of magic. A magic that could affect one’s soul was strong, and dangerous, at at this point, exclusively against me.

But there was something else that deeply unsettled me: if Hector, my uncle, had a natural affinity for mana magic, then that had to have meant that my mother was heavily trained in mana manipulation.