Chapter 2: A New Adventure

The fire’s crackling filled the silence of the night, casting an orange glow on the two compatriots sitting silently around it. She leaned against the stone cube that was their shelter, holding out her hands to warm up against the cold night. Wyn glanced up to look at the man across from her, still staring absent-mindly into the fire. His expression was inscrutable. She couldn’t get even a hint at what thoughts would be running through his mind. The only thing was the compass he gently, yet firmly clutched in his right hand. He was silent. Deathly silent. So silent that one would doubt if he needed to breathe. His chest certainly showed no signs of movement. Not that Wyn minded. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

“I’ll go find some food.” Standing up, Wyn suddenly announced. A small hole bore through the wall.

“Allow me to join you.”

“No need. I don’t need your help.”

“Benefactor…”

“Stop with the benefactor. Just… call me Wyn.”

“Bene… Wyn…”

Before he could answer, Wyn sprinted off. Far, far away. As fast she could, putting as much distance as she could between that man and her. He claimed that if he got too far, he’d be resealed in his prison. If he was speaking the truth… well, too bad for him. He wasn’t her responsibility. She never asked to be given a responsibility like that. Even still, after a while, her feet stilled, and she came to a halt.

“Damnit, why does this keep happening…?”

Wyn was answered by a projectile flying towards her head. In a single move, she drew her sword and cleaved it in two, the stone-like barb crashing to the ground beside her. Loud buzzing filled the air, as a swarm of man-sized beetles descended from the trees.

Siejerogs. The sight of the massive beetles caused Wyn to freeze. Just for a second, but it was enough to miss the second barb flying towards her. She didn’t have time to dodge, barely raising her arms in time for a futile defense.

An arm grabbed at her ponytail, throwing her to the ground. The barb crashed into a barrier of solidified air, shattering it completely as it ricocheted into the ground. The man stumbled forward, his grip like hot iron on her wrist. His vision was blurry, his senses all replaced with an endless, burning pain. He raised his injured arm into the air, forcing mana through as he prepared to blast it away. Yet nothing came out. Instead, the black cloth, which should have been torn to ribbons, began to move. Constricting and locking his arm like a cast, it began to rip the mana from his body, first reweaving itself, then forcefully regrowing the torn flesh and bone, leaving none from him to wield for himself. The man collapsed to his knees, clutching desperately at his arm in a silent howl.

At first wary, seeing the man now collapsed, the Siejerogs seized the opportunity to strike.

“Air solid in bands under foot, sunlit gale lift the spirit, feathers catch under arm, ride the wind on soaring wings!”

A sudden burst of wind exploded underneath Wyn, launching her to the first beetle. Her flaming sword easily split the head from its body. The other beetles immediately took to the air, but none could outfly her sword. Head after head dropped to the ground in a sickening thunk.

Wyn dropped to her feet before the man. By now, the cloth had stopped. The man was left breathing heavy, but his arm was whole again.

“Why are you here?” Wyn jabbed her sword at the man’s chest. It bounced off with a silent clang. “I didn’t need your help!”

“Once again, I am here because I followed you.”

“Why? And don’t!”

“You were getting too far away… the bindings…”

“That excuse again… how do I even know you’re telling the truth?”

“I have no reason to lie about such a thing. It is extremely limiting, after all, being leashed to another like this.”

Wyn shook her face in her hand. She supposed that that was fair. And it’s not like the two knew each other, he’d have no reason to want to be close to her. It always irked her, though, being followed.

“Let me see your arm.”

Without waiting for an answer, Wyn grabbed the man’s injured arm. Except for the fact that there was no injury. No wound, no bleeding, hell, even the cloth was completely intact.

“What was that? What happened to your arm?”

“I’m not too sure. When the barrier I cast shattered, my arm was torn apart.”

“How could that… wait, it might be because of your affinity…”

“Affinity?”

“Your affinity. It dictates the type of magic you can use. Those that align with your affinity are strengthened, or perhaps are simply easier to cast. The opposite for those that you align against. Typically, they have a variety of drawbacks, such as being more difficult to impossible to cast. I’ve never seen one with this kind of drawback, though.”

Wyn moved to examine the bodies of the fallen siejerog. Their bodies were silent, their limbs no longer twitching. One of them, their gross, lifeless eyes stared at her. She gave that one a kick, its head flying off.

Their carapace would sell for decent coin, prized for their iridescent, amethyst hue and decent durability. The membranes of their elytra should also be valuable. And their legs, filled with edible meat. Enough at least to cover the next few nights at the hall, not that she was in desperate financial need. As Wyn was peeling the carapace from their bodies, the man spoke up once again.

“You didn’t seem the type to freeze in combat like that. Was this your first battle?”

“Does this look like my first day? It’s just, I’m… not the best with bugs. Big ones, at least.” Wyn let out a sigh. She gave them a prod with her sword, as though verifying they were dead.

The man watched as Wyn pried apart the carapaces of the fallen siejerog. Their blood splattered across Wyn’s forearms, yet she didn’t seem to care at all.

“How does one know their affinity?” He asked, after a moment of silence.

“You don’t know?” Wyn glanced up at the man. “You look like you’ve gotten trained, though…”

“If I was, I certainly have no memory of it.”

“Right… slipped my mind. Well, a ritual called the Plangensoul. It reveals people’s affinity.”

“And to perform…”

“Hey, help me carry this.” With a thud, Wyn tossed the stripped carapaces into the man’s arms. With a grunt, he stumbled back, more due to how unwieldy they were than their weight.

“Is it too much for you?”

The man attempted to nod, but the slight movement of his head threatened to topple him over.

“Fine, let me offer some help. Repeat after me…”

Magus repeated the words, but nothing happened.

Wyn tilted her head in confusion.

“Try touching my shoulder.” Magus suggested.

This only caused more confusion, but Wyn obliged. As she did, Magus repeated the chants again. Wyn felt a small amount of mana rip from her palm, and then the carapaces began to float. As soon as she removed her palm, though, they all came crashing down.

“Great. Well that’s useless.”

With a sigh, Wyn began lifting the carapaces herself.

“If you could use such a spell, why not simply cast it yourself?”

“It requires a lot of concentration to move things long distances. Which means, it’s a pain. At the very least, I guess we know your affinity isn’t against air magic? Maybe?”

The man gave a nod, though only started moving once Wyn did. It seemed he was a bit wary of leaving her on her own now, after being ditched twice.

Back at the campfire, Wyn held one of the legs of a siejerog over the fire. Fat drizzled down the shining shell as the meat inside roasted. After it fully cooked, she tossed the burning leg to the man.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

The man, though, showed no reaction, holding it as though it were but an ordinary stick.

“What is this for?”

“...” Wyn tried to find any hint of joking on the man’s face, but it was as stone faced as always.

“To eat, of course. Sure, it’s no gourmet meal, but it’s still food.”

“What do you mean, to eat?”

Is this the level of amnesia we’re working with? He’s forgotten how to eat? How was she supposed to explain eating to him?

“Eating… it’s when you… bite and swallow food? For sustenance, I guess? You need it to live.”

“Is eating solely for sustenance?”

“I suppose, yeah.”

“Then I don’t need to eat.”

This man…

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I do not require such sustenance, so I don’t need to eat.”

“You’re not exactly a comedian, so cut the jokes.”

“I’m not joking.”

“So you know what joking is, at least.”

“If it’s purely for sustenance, I receive all I need from your mana.”

Wyn cocked her head at him as she cracked open a leg of her own.

“Normally, I produce enough mana to sustain myself without any outside assistance. But this cloth,” The man held up a forearm, pointing to the black cloth wrapped around it. “It sealed, and is still sealing me by siphoning away my mana. The lack of mana keeps my body in a state of stasis. However, it won’t drain any mana that is not my own. Therefore, I am using your mana to sustain my functions. In a way you could say I eat your mana.”

“...”

“Of course, this siphoning is very little. Compared to the magnitude of your mana stores, you won’t notice at all the amount I am siphoning.”

“And you found this out… how?”

“It took a bit to become accustomed to the foreign mana, but a little bit of time and I’ll naturally find the source from the flow. It’s also how I found you after you ran away. Both times, actually.”

“Of course. Well, if you’re not going to eat it…” She snatched the leg back from him, snapping it in two to expose the roasted leg meat. The meat was a bit tough, but juicy. Perhaps a bit of salt would help with the mellow flavor, but it was fine on its own.

As the meal finished, Wyn clapped her hands. A blue glow, then a small bubble of water formed around them. Within the bubble, Wyn scraped off the juices that stained her hands. She had done this earlier, after harvesting the carapaces. After that, she motioned upwards with her finger, causing four walls of sturdy mud to erupt. A small hole was left in the roof so that smoke from the fire could escape.

“I suppose it’s as good a time as any to call it a night, then.”

“What else would you call it?”

“I meant go to sleep. Do I need to explain that to you, as well?”

“No, I know what sleep is. I believe I’ve rested enough for my lifetime, though.”

“Not how that works, but suit yourself. Don’t blame me if you fall behind tomorrow, it’s going to be a long trip.”

“Where are we going?”

“Guilabaster Hall, of course.”