Chapter 53 - Flip Flop

I force myself out of bed, a knot of anxiety is already twisting in my stomach. It’s a specific, pointed worry, and it has a name. 

I pull on my borrowed clothes, forgoing breakfast entirely. 

The need to see her, to make sure she’s okay after yesterday’s disastrous experiments is a physical ache. I nod to the few villagers I pass, as I try to mask my concern, they can’t know their healer is incapacitated. 

I push the door open without a knock as my heart pounds in its place.

She’s on her feet, standing by the window and staring out at the flurry of activity in the village. 

Her dark skin has taken on an olive complexion. I almost don’t recognize her.

“Clovis?” I say, my voice softer than I intended.

She turns, and a faint, tired smile touches her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Shikara. You’re here early.”

“I was so worried!” I admit, stepping further into the cluttered room. The remnants of our experiment are still on the workbench. “How are you feeling?”

She lets out a short, humourless laugh, wrapping her arms around herself. “Strange,” she finally says, her gaze drifting back to the window. 

“It’s like my own memories are being shuffled with someone else’s. Little things. The taste of a fruit I’ve never eaten. The warmth of a cut on my arm. They flash into my mind for a second, then vanish.”

She turns back to me, and I see a flicker of panic in her eyes. “And the anger… One moment, I feel this… hot, bright rage, for no reason at all. It’s so intense it makes my hands shake. Then… nothing. A complete void. It’s worse than anger. Just… empty.”

I did this. It was my idea, my desperation to find a solution, led her to her feeling like this “Clovis, I’m so sorry. This is my fault. Let me get you something. Some water, or those caocio nuts you like, anything at all.”

“No.” Her voice is quiet but firm, cutting me off. 

“Thank you, Shikara, but no. This isn’t your fault. It was my choice. And I have to… handle this myself.” Her words aren't cruel, but they draw a clear line between us. 

She’s shutting me out, retreating into her own formidable, but clearly strained, self-reliance.

“Then we should take a break,” I suggest, the words feeling utterly sensible. “From the research, I mean. Just for a few days. Until you feel more like yourself again.”

“Absolutely not.” The response is immediate and fierce, a flash of her old intensity returning.

 She pushes herself away from the window, her posture straightening with a defiant energy. “I sacrificed a piece of my own wellbeing. I’m not stopping now. I have to see where this takes us. I have to make sure this results in something meaningful.”

Her passion is both inspiring and terrifying. She’s willing to tear herself apart for the sake of this discovery. I can’t argue with that kind of conviction. So, I change tactics.

“Okay,” I concede. “but we can’t risk another experiment like that. So, what can I do?”

My eyes drift to the workbench in the study. The splatters of blood, dry and present as they mar the wood. 

“Let me at least clean that up. It’ll give us a clear space to think.” I point to the splotches. 

It’s a small, mundane offer, but it’s something tangible. Something useful. Clovis looks at the mess, then back at me  “Fine. That would be helpful.”

She moves to sit on her cot, watching me with a detached air as I fetch a cloth and water. 

I start with the workbench, the stains try to fall in line with the grain of the wood.

The simple, repetitive motion is all too familiar but it doesn’t feel mechanical anymore; it feels like creating order in a space where there was none. As I’m cleaning, my fingers brush against one of the normal, uncorrupted mana stones.

I hold it up to the light, admiring the way the vibrant blue as it catches the morning sun. 

Just out of curiosity, I look through it, the study on the other side warps into a strange, cerulean landscape. I idly move it across my field of vision, passing it over the last remaining spot of dried blood on the workbench before I wipe it away.

And I stop.

Something catches my eye. Something impossible. I lower the stone, and there’s nothing but a dark, coppery stain on the wood. I raise it again, holding it directly over the spot.

There it is. A thin wisp of something that looks like a red mist lazily drifts up from the dried blood. 

It’s not smoke, though. It moves with a slow, deliberate current, like a water spout. It writhes and curls. 

I can only perceive it through the vertice of the mana stone.

“Clovis!” I manage to breathe out the words despite my shock. “You need to see this.”

She pushes herself off the cot and shuffles over, her expression a mixture of confusion and impatience. “See what?”

I don’t answer. I just hand her the mana stone. “Look. Through this. At the blood.”

She takes the stone, her skepticism plain on her face. She holds it to her eye, squinting. 

Her breath hitches. “What… what is that?” she murmurs, her voice filled with a dawning, academic wonder that eclipses her fatigue. 

She moves the stone away, then brings it back, confirming what she’s seeing. Just like I did.

“It’s only visible through the stone.” I say, the implications of the discovery beginning to cascade through my mind.

“It has to be the third type.” she whispers, her scholar’s mind instantly latching onto some connection. “It’s the mana sickness. It’s not just in the stones.” She looks from the stone to my face, her red eyes burning with feverish intensity.

This is it. This is the evidence we needed. It’s not just a theory anymore.

“The stone… it must be acting as some kind of filter.” I theorize, my excitement building. 

“There must be some sort of overlap between the mana types, some sort of spectrum.”

“Spectrum? What does that mean?” Clovis cuts me off as she inquires about the strange word. 

“Oh uh it just means a band of things like we think there are 3 mana types but who knows there could be more.” I nervously manage to string together an acceptable meaning.

“Interesting, I’ve never heard that word before but it fits perfectly. Spectrum of mana, I like it.” She gives a head shake of approval as she allows me to carry on.

“What if we could see more?” An idea, wild and improbable, sparks in my mind. “Do you think we could make lenses out of mana stones? If we could look at the world through them, we might be able to see this sickness everywhere. We could track it, see where it’s coming from, and how it spreads.”

“I’m not the right person to ask, that sounds more like Taelun’s realm. You’ve met him right? But even if it were possible I’m not sure it would work. We might need to amplify the mana stones effect with a spell.” Clovis posits back to me. 

“No I haven’t had the chance yet, I was meant to meet him one day with Orville but we got distracted. It can’t hurt to try, this is our most promising breakthrough.” I turn my head as I reply hoping Clovis agrees.

“I haven’t seen him since before the attack. So he is unharmed or dead. But I haven’t heard anyone mention him being dead either. So our luck might be turning around.” Her tone frightens me with how nonchalant she is about the potential death of someone so vital to the community. 

Regardless of the uncertainty, we set out, determined to find him.