Black Coat

Though his leg is crippled, Libarius walks quickly. He doesn’t really need the cane to move, even for long distances, but rather for the pain shooting through his leg every time he steps off of it. Water drips from his body and his coat, leaving a trail in his wake.

Gracia follows after Libarius, following his trail and the obvious sight of his black figure. She doesn’t run, but she does think she’ll catch up to Libarius easily. A large swath of her blouse has gotten wet, though one side has been left dry by Libarius stepping in front of her. The cold water clinging to her body certainly is not helping her chase after Libarius, but Gracia decides it to be in her best interest to instead consider what she should do once she reaches him.

Gracia doesn’t understand Libarius, and she doesn’t understand what that coat means to him. She doesn’t understand why he needs a reminder of a man he lives with or a reminder of the embrace of a man who clearly loves him. Regardless, she understands that it’s something that matters to him as much as magic does, for his stoicism to fade like that so quickly. His emotions are even more mysterious to her, so all she can do is hope that she’ll be able to make the right choice.

However, as she thinks about what to do, the trail of water disappears. She looks ahead and the shadowlike back of Libarius has disappeared as well. She looks around frantically, and from the window she spots one of the large towers of the Magic Institute reaching for the pale blue sky beyond it. She walks towards the window and looks at the eaves outside of it. Gracia cannot imagine Libarius not being able to reach it, even if he doesn’t have his cane, and she has no better guesses.

Gracia opens up the window and propels herself into the air with a burst of force, letting herself fly around the overhanging roof. As she lands, she looks around, but, as she expected, Libarius is nowhere to be found. She quickly flies up the side of the nearby tower, unsure of how Libarius could have gotten himself up but still not doubtful, and lands on the circular edge of the roof. As she lands, Gracia hears a murmured rant in a language she does not understand. She walks around the tower until she finds Libarius sitting on the edge, his legs hanging down, like a blemish on the sky.

“Libarius.” He doesn’t turn to look at her, only stopping his ranting at the sound of her voice.

“My, Gracia, is it truly wise to leave that class unattended?”

“Maybe not. Do you want to be alone, Libarius?”

“High places and dark places are both keen to keep others away. But… Whether you remain here or return is of no concern to me.” Gracia carefully sits down on the sloped edge of the roof beside Libarius.

“Then I’ll stay. Is your coat alright?”

“That’s none of your concern, Gracia.”

“But it’s something that you care about. And it got that bad because you stepped in front of me.”

“Indeed, it was a foolish thing to do.”

“So, at the very least, I think I can dry it off. If that’s alright with you…”

“I’d rather not allow somebody else to handle it.”

“If I cast a spell, could you do it yourself?” Libarius smirks.

“I know spells to keep water from ever touching my body, so likely not. Not the first time I’ve seen it. And not on this coat. The image would fail to live up to my standards.”

“I never thought there’d be a spell you couldn’t use.”

“I am but a single man like any other. Other than those for treating my leg or keeping my body alive and my mind sharp, magic for everyday use has long been far removed from my life. I haven’t needed it, nor could I have utilized it.”

“I guess a lot of mages are like that. But you made that spell for the cake.”

“That was simply the spell I found most beautiful when I thought of it. And it was lacking.”

“Can I dry your coat? I don’t want it to get ruined.” Libarius drags himself up to standing and begins to pull the wet coat from his body.

“It’s already ruined, in many ways, but very well, go ahead.”

Libarius hands the large coat to Gracia, and she takes it gingerly. It’s the first time she’s seen him without it and, though she really already knew, she’s shocked by how thin his body is. More shocking, though, are the long scars covering his arms, and, she’s sure, his still gloved hands as well. Though she doesn’t want to push her luck with him and ask.

Gracia already knew that this coat was a magical tool, as are all the things Libarius wears, but only now that she inspects it closely does she realize how out of the norm it truly is. The coat has dozens of spells faintly attached to it, woven into the fabric itself. It’s the most thorough engraving of spells she’s ever seen, surpassing them all by orders of magnitude. Yet the magic itself feels strangely weak, save for one spell.

“Libarius, what sorts of spells are on the coat?” Libarius laughs scornfully.

“The one you must be feeling is anti-magic.”

“Huh?! Wouldn’t that make it on the level of a national treasure?!”

“Perhaps, were it not for the purpose behind that anti-magic. The faint threads of magic you can feel are all spells that have been lost. A method to keep the coat’s power in the hands of its rightful owner.” Again Libarius laughs scornfully. “Among them was a spell to keep water off of it.”

“Then—”

“Indeed, I am not the coat’s rightful owner. He’s been dead for a decade now, and his work is a masterpiece among masterpieces, beyond even my capabilities to repair.”

“So that’s why it’s ruined?”

“It has hardly a fraction of the power it should. The only spell that remains is one to ward off damage and physical blows, and even that will disappear in time.”

“But you still care about it so much.”

“Even if his magic disappears…” Looking out from the tower they sit on, a slight smile on his face, Libarius’ voice becomes gentler than Gracia had ever heard it. “His warmth is still there.”

“I’ll do my best, Libarius.” Gracia gets to work, casting a spell to wring out the water completely and restore the coat to what it should be, the two of them sitting on the edge of a tall tower’s roof side by side.