Chương 14: Chapter 15: Acclimation

Lennick is leaning against his desk watching his feet. My skin tingles. Some of it is pain. Some of it anticipation. Xan is leaning over, hands on their knees, eyes never leaving Lennick.

"Well, then." Lennick finally looks up, but not at us, at the ceiling.

"I knew it, you know?" I'm pretty sure it's a complete and utter rhetorical question. But I can't help asking.

"Knew what?"

"That your weird affinity with the plants wasn't just that. I mean, I have an affinity with all of this," he says, gesturing around.

"But I cannot get them to do half of what you can." An idea occurs to me.

"I bet you can get them to do more than you think." His eyes sparkle as he finally looks me in the eye.

"Perhaps, and maybe now I'll try. But in this moment, we're discussing you and figuring out what we can do to make your magic work." He narrows his eyes.

"Because your appearance tells me it might have malfunctioned."

"You really think it's magic, then?" I ask, despite being quite positive myself. Lennick just flashes me one of those "are you kidding me" looks. I glance at Xan, who's sitting back down on one of the ground chairs. They don't give me any indication to stop. Gathering courage, I try to explain.

"I think it feeds off my energy," I say softly.

"Wait." I pinch my nose.

"That's not quite accurate. When I made the flowers take root outside, it didn't cost me any energy that I could tell. But if I use it for myself, that's when I think it takes from me."

"Interesting." Lennick moves quickly, with a flourish of robes, to sit behind his desk and gestures to the two chairs in front of it.

"Sit. Sit. We have so much to discuss." It doesn't escape my notice that the door remains closed. I'm relieved Lennick can apparently be trusted. I take a seat, and Xan adjusts themselves to face Lennick from where they're already sitting. My mentor, meanwhile, has pulled a dark-brown leather book from the three he'd plopped down on the desk earlier, and is leafing through them. I don't think I've ever seen him quite this excited.

He's nodding to himself, his bright green eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as he does so. Scrutiny is not something I deal well with. I still remember the stares and whispers after my parents' deaths. The way hushed voices sounded behind my back with little to no regard to whether I heard or not. That's where my thick skin comes from. Or so I'd like to think.

"Well?" I ask, feeling suddenly impatient. Lennick looks up at me brightly.

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. I just remembered that I'd read information years ago, when I was much younger. Information that can help us. You." He gestures to the books, more like tomes now I come to think of it.

"These volumes were handed down through my family. Most of my ancestors were sages, right back through to the ages of magic." Lennick sighs, and for a moment I think he's a little down.

"My parents almost threw these books out. They're old. About a past everyone thought was gone. I took as many of them as I could find in our library before leaving." There's a wistful note to his voice. He probably misses his family. Maybe he'd always hoped to rediscover magic. Maybe unearth why it disappeared. I've been forming my own hypothesis about that. And it's not a pretty one.

"Anyway, you need to read these books. To understand how the magic utilizes your body." He frowns, leafing through to another page.

"The content makes so much more sense after seeing you."

"Mind sharing some of that sense with us?" He grins over at me.

"Sorry. This is a scholars' dream. I could never quite understand why there was so much focus on building physical and mental strength. But it seems you need to build your body up as much as your mind when it comes to utilizing magic as it existed, and well, apparently still exists." He pushes the tome over to me, his eagerness overflowing so much it even infects me slightly.

"These are the very basics. Like the texts on poisons we give all those two-blade Novices." He winks and sits back, watching me. I take the book and spread it across my lap. It's larger than I first thought, heavier. Skimming the first page open to me, I stop on one particular spot that surprises me, even though I know it shouldn't. Magic has a level of sentience. Well, that just explained a lot. The tugging, the feelings, the whisperings. At least it's not just in my head.

I skim through more and come to rest on different levels of magical preparation. Intelligence —Must be fostered. Raise this through study, enlightenment, research, exploration. Know of the earth and its elements. I can see how Intelligence would be important for any type of magic. Knowing how to access is always paramount. Just like with poisons. You don't want to fool around with poisons without knowing all about them. The information on Wisdom is largely irrelevant.

Basically, don't be an idiot when exercising magical powers. Got that. Will do my best. Strength —Core and bodily strength is required in order to carry the weight of the magical current. Power as it is channeled possesses weight equivalent to the amount of power being used. Take too much, drain your strength. I frown. That's quite possibly what I did when I saved Xan the first time. Damn it. Does that mean I need to add in more physical training? I fight the urge to complain.

Instead, I soldier on with figuring out what other aspects I'm going to have to train in order to take full advantage of this surprising bonus. Endurance —Ties directly into the body's levels of tolerance. Withstanding pressure and having the cardio fitness levels required to allow power (mana) to flow through the user's channels. Magic requires consistent channeling. Thus, cardiovascular fitness is of utmost importance. That made sense too. I read it through once more.

I'm not a stranger to cardio fitness, but I could do with adding more to my regimen. About to hand the book back, another one catches my eye at the bottom of the page. Fortitude —The direct ability of one's magic channels to be used by raw magic. The channels magic flows through must be toughened in order to withstand the power being channeled. Often done through gradual acclimation of magical power flow to those specific passages that magic utilizes.

This allows them to slowly adjust to the magnitudes of magic that may need to traverse. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"Fortitude is a new one," I say, finally relinquishing the book again.

"I don't quite understand it." But Lennick is already leafing through the orange-red book. He looks up at me.

"Didn't you find the definition helpful at all?" I nod, unsure of this new scholarly Lennick. I mean, he's always been very attached to learning of any type, but I've never seen him with books. Frankly, I'd thought it might be for show. His love has always been for plants.

"Very helpful. While I can guess how to train Strength and Endurance, I'm uncertain about Fortitude." He blinks at me, and Xan leans forward intently. Lennick chuckles softly.

"It's too much to think that now you've accessed this…power, that it gave you a precise blueprint about how it works, correct?"

"Precisely," I say, my hopes dashed that Lennick might not even be able to help me. I'm never confused. Feeling like this, like I am floundering, reminds me too much of the past I had no control over. It ignites that anger I harbor deep down. Anger is the worst emotion to harness. It misdirects and clouds judgement. Taking a breath, I look up at Lennick.

"I need to figure this out before it consumes me. It almost had me back in the clearing. I panicked and let it in. It wanted to help me. It's just not a good judge of how much I can handle. That's my responsibility to bear." I don't stop at the shocked looks on their faces but plow straight on.

"It took a hold of my thoughts, twisted them, and yet gave me the solution I needed. The one chance I had for Xan and me to survive. It was eager to be used."

"Wait." Lennick holds up his hand.

"You said they were simple ambushers. Did you lie, Taria?" I gulp, but Xan steps in.

"No. She didn't. I lied. I said they were simple ambushers—which we know full well they weren't. Without Taria ripping open her magic or whatever she did, we'd be dead." The thoughts flitting through Lennick's mind are practically playing on a moving picture on his face. But he shakes his head, quite vigorously, and slams his palms down.

"We will come back to that. For now, I need to figure out how to help you work on your Fortitude." He reaches forward, frowning, leafing through the books he piled up.

"This is all information we never thought would be relevant again." Concern pinches his brow. I just know he's trying to figure out why and how people ever thought magic was dead. From first-hand experience, I can say definitively that it's very much alive.

"Oh!" he says, and his face lights up briefly. He pushes himself up from his desk, frowning with concentration, and walks across the room. He leafs through several things on one of the bottom shelves of his bookcases. I can hear him muttering under his breath, but not what he's saying. Finally, he grabs a thinner notebook. Something soft-covered that is likely handwritten.

"I'm unsure if I brought the rest. This never made much sense to me. It might help you."

"What is it?" I ask, really feeling my fatigue now.

"I think it's a training manual. It's handwritten, and the ink is fading. Happens if a journal is around two hundred years old. I thought I had more of them, and I don't even know if you can use this." He holds it out to me, and I take them somewhat reverently.

"Really?" I can't imagine letting anyone get their hands on something of my parents'. This feels like trust I'm not sure I deserve.

"Maybe they'll give you some hints. But we also need to talk about what you're not saying." His tone has changed. It's stern and holds a hint of suspicion. I nod.

"What do you want to know?"

"I'm assuming you don't want me to mention this to…him." Lennick frowns, and I wonder if speaking Aarron's name or calling him Prefect would trigger his presence or something. My mentor pinches his brow before continuing.

"This is all fascinating. It's easy to get caught up in the fact you've proven magic isn't dead. There's so much I want to delve into. But you realize the position you're putting me in, right? You realize the trouble, the repercussions if I'm found to have known this and not passed it on?" It's like a punch to the gut. Of course, I knew what I was asking him to do. Right now, I realize how selfish that was of me. Out of necessity, sure. But still, self-serving to its core.

"I realize, and I apologize. But I don't understand it. And I definitely can't control it. That's something I need your help to do." I take a deep breath, pushing down on another wave of vertigo.

"Once I know I won't kill myself or others with this accidentally, I will tell him." Several seconds pass, and I can feel the strain like I've pulled all the muscles in my body. Then Lennick nods, and his expression relaxes.

"Very well. Four weeks. If you can't obtain marked control in the next month, we will both talk to him. Until then, I will aid you." By the end, the excitement has entered his eyes again.

"Thank you, Lennick," Xan says and I realize that's what I should have said. I'm more tired than I thought.

"For now, shoo—go back to your room. Use the salve where I couldn't get you after you take a warm bath. Those bruises need to heal up—you look like you got beaten to a pulp." Then he pauses, as if as an afterthought, and asks, "Did you tell Aarron where this incident occurred?" Xan nods.

"Mostly. Not absolutely specific, but he knows the way we traveled, so it's unlikely he wouldn't find it if he looked."

"That might be a problem."

"Why?" Xan stands, crossing their arms.

"Why would it be a problem? We told them we took care of them."

"Yes, but Aarron won't like the vagueness. And he'll like even less that you were attacked at all. He's going to insist on getting to the bottom of this." I can tell there's more he wants to say, but that he's not sure he should.

"Spit it out, Lennick. Just tell us." Xan beats me to it, and I can tell they're more tired than I realized.

"Are you absolutely sure that no one saw what you did and lived to escape and tell someone else?" Well, that's the last question I thought he'd ask. I wrack my brains, replaying the gory event in my mind. Three down, five down…all together.

"There was no one in our immediate vicinity who escaped. Nothing I could feel. The only possibility would be someone watching from a distance." Lennick nods.

"That's a relief. But if you're trying to keep this quiet until you figure out how to use your powers without them killing you, or inadvertently others, then you have to be certain that you never leave any survivors. Even if it's accidental." With those chilling words that leave me feeling less safe than I like, Lennick dismisses us calling out: "Don't you dare come back here before you've had twelve hours sleep!" Our trip to the sleeping quarters is silent. Mainly, I think, because neither of us has energy.

Xan's room is next to mine, and they see me to my door.

"I'll wait here."

"For?" I ask.

"You have to shower, remember? And I don't trust that you have the energy to make it." I bristle under the on-point assessment of my current capabilities and refrain from commenting on their own tiredness.

"Fine." The water washes so much of my fatigue away, as well as the first layer of Lennick's salve. It's good to see that at least some of the bruising is actually dirt. But it's a far smaller percentage than I'd like. I lather myself, wincing in pain as I do, wondering just how long this will take to heal. Is magic really worth it? But that's a stupid question. Isn't power what I've always wanted? Power to find the clues, to figure out just why my parents died, and why I was left the way I was?

If I manage this ability correctly, won't that give me my best chance to achieve my goals? Wrapped up in a long-sleeved nightshirt, I exit the bathroom to find my self-imposed guard still there, practically dozing against the wall.

"You don't need to escort me everywhere, you know."

"Come on, you know you love the attention." Xan winks at me, back to their usual form. Perhaps their banter is a bit less quippy. I can't expect them to be operating on full when I'm sure they've barely slept the last few days.

"Attention seeker, that's me." Xan stops, shock evident on their face.

"You admit it!"

"I admit nothing," I say, actually glad that I'm not alone yet. We arrive back at my room and Xan grins at me.

"Hugs still off the table, right?"

"You could try it," I state blandly. Xan laughs.

"It's good to see you're more yourself again. I was starting to worry. Sleep well, in an actual bed. We can chat tomorrow." I watch them go, so many thoughts flitting through my head including just why my friend is being so protective. Both of them. Do they have something to gain from my magic? Can I blame them if they do? Closing my door behind me, I latch it, something I've gotten used to doing in the last several years. Only then do I pull out the journal and books Lennick entrusted to me.

Flipping through them gently, I'm careful not to catch on the paper and rip it. The ink is faint on these pages, weathered over time, and I wonder who this was, how they lived, what they saw. The words on the pages practically sing to me as I flick through it. It's like there's a zing of magic within the pages as I touch it. Words flow through my fingertips and into my head. They get under my skin, causing the tingling from the salve to intensify. I don't think I've ever devoured a book so fast. Channeling.

Conduit. Power storage. Acclimation—The art of fortifying your conduit channels to withstand the flow of power. And written all through the back half of the journal are the author's training exercises to reinforce and strengthen that acclimation. This is like a guide, the guide I need. Donwhin Careah is the author of this journal. They're some distant relative of Lennick's. And might have just saved my life.