Chương 15: Chapter 16: Exercises

Over the course of the next few days, Lennick does me the huge favor of telling Aarron that the poison had lingering effects and I need recovery time. Which allows me all the freedom I need to scour the journals and attempt to replicate the training methods. Sadly, it's much easier thought of than executed. I'm starting without a base taught to me as a child. Without a person who can answer my questions. And without anyone who can help me contain the power, should I lose control.

Lying on my bed and opening myself to the tug around me, as it were, is much more difficult than I anticipated. But closing my eyes helps. There are whispers just outside of my room. The waterfall, the trees, and even the song of the birds is amplified. Drinking in the sensations, pulling them into my core, I allow them to unfurl and rush through my body. That whooshing sound magnifies whenever I do it, ringing in my ears. But even as I feel a sense of triumph, I also realize how small the amount of energy is.

My channels are raw, so much that there's minor discomfort any time I let energy pass through me. Even go into me. The training diary has opened my eyes, but in a scary way. I now realize there's so much more to all of this. If I breathe very softly, and stay perfectly still, I can even hear whisperings from the stones around us. From the entire mountain. Every speck of dirt, bark on the trees, stones in the ground—they all have power. I wish this was something I'd been honing since I was a child.

Right now, it all feels rushed. Having power without the ability to wield it safely is frustrating. Having power and being unable to give in to the urge to use it… that's even worse. Pull the power into me, let it flow through my channels. It's nothing I would call strong, but every time I do this, there's a little more resilience. Baby steps all the way. Not my usual way of working. Closing my eyes is the easiest way to see through to my core, or my center, as the diary refers to it multiple times.

In the strongest part of me, the place I can gather all my resources. Sort of like a well. I move through the thought process, knowing that once my body is fully healed, I'll have to add physical exercises to this. While I don't understand everything Donwhin wrote, I'm sure Lennick or Xan will be able to help clarify what I can't. Breathe in with purpose, feel the power flow through every channel of my body. Sort of like following blood, veins, throughout. Something I've studied in depth.

You have to know how the poison will flow if you want it to be truly effective. In a way, this has prepared me for this new skill. Breathing out with a goal in mind. Keeping my body at one with the air circulating around me, with the life I can feel at my fingertips. And the incessant whispering. I frown, feeling the sounds through the rock as I place my hand to the side of my bed.

Focusing, I try to hear through the stone, but the words are garbled, and the joy from the stone at my touch overrides any sensation I could have otherwise read. Sighing in frustration, I push myself to a sitting position, only to have my stomach growl loudly. Damn it. I almost skipped lunch again. That's it. Time to feed and to find the source of those damned whisperings that are trying to invade my brain. I pull on a dark long-sleeved shirt.

No need to show off my fading-but-still-mottled-by-bruises skin if I don't need to. Aarron hasn't called me in for a couple of days, but that doesn't mean he's going to overlook my injury remnants if he sees them. In the grand scheme of things, they're not mild ones like we'd intimated. Xan isn't outside my room. That means I won the argument yesterday. They're likely in the library trying to find out information on the Blood Sect. Pulling the grains of truth from stories made to scare children.

If all else fails, we can probably ask Lennick again. But he's already doing so much to help me. I'd hate to put him in hotter water. Even if the time limit ticks in the back of my brain like a trap. Following the stone corridors, I let my fingertips brush the walls as we move along. This way. Come along. It's almost like a little child, wanting me to follow it. Glad for someone to understand it finally. Gives a new meaning to "if these walls could talk." I didn't realize my touch betrayed how curious I could be.

Slinking through the halls, I feel a little like a spy. This time of day, most of our members are either out on contracts, or else at lunch in the cafeteria. I do like the Eastern Enclave's cafeteria more. I think the kitchen is larger. No time for that yet. Hurry. Almost gone. There's even a worried overtone to the way the stone conveys its message to me. Urgency. I hurry. Down past the offices and I'm about to turn the corner toward Aarron's study when the sensation to stop and not turn is overwhelming.

I halt, pulling out the journal Lennick gave me, so I have an excuse to be reading in the halls. Flimsy, perhaps. But an excuse nevertheless. I can't see who Aarron is talking to. Naturally. They're behind the door, after all. This new skill might do a lot, but it hasn't given me the ability to look through solid objects. Yet. However, I can hear what they're saying with a startling clarity. Filtered to me by the rocky walls. Farin's voice comes through sparkling and clear.

"... no assignments. I'm going stir crazy." There's that plaintive note to her voice like always. Always the complainer.

"You are not getting assignments because you are unsuited for them." Aarron's drawl, however, is pure boredom.

"I'm perfectly capable!"

"In these instances, just being capable isn't enough, Farin!" Aarron's temper is frayed. I wish I'd been here for the start of this conversation. I've never heard him get so close to raising his voice before. Usually, his bad moods promise death itself.

"Guess it's great to have your faith in me, Uncle." She stresses the word bitterly, and it's all I can do to remember to breathe. Related? I would never have guessed that. We're usually discouraged from having contact with anyone from our families or previous lives. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"You lured me here with the promise I'd be taken care of." I can practically hear my yearmate pouting. There's the sound of a book hitting the table. It's not difficult to imagine the Prefect's expression.

"I didn't lure you anywhere. With your petty thieving ways and no connection to Bryony, your mother begged me to take you in." Aarron's tone has changed, and he's not bothering to modulate it.

"I could very well hand you over to them now, if you'd like?"

"No. I…" There's a pause so long I almost think my connection has been broken.

"Look, I've been doing what you told me to do."

"Not well enough. I know more than you do."

"You do?" Farin sounds shocked.

"It's not like they're secretive, Farin. I didn't give you a hard task. I asked you to keep an eye, yet you can't even manage that."

"But I—""Never mind. I believe you have a job to do?"

"Yes, Prefect." The sullenness weighs her words.

"Very well. Go." And I can just imagine him waving his hand in that irritating, dismissive way of his. That conversation leaves more questions than before I got here. I turn on my heel quickly, the rushed staccato beats tingling my fingers through the stone. Getting caught in that hallway doesn't feel like my best career move. I head to the cafeteria. Farin is Aarron's niece. She was doing something for him, and he's not happy with the current progress. Now I just need to figure out what it was she was doing.

Is it any of my business? Probably not. But now I am curious—there has to be a reason the walls spoke to me. In their own way, anyhow. Apart from my being the only one who can hear them right now. I sit down with my book, an apple, and a muffin only to realize this won't be enough food. It doesn't matter. I'll get up and grab more shortly.

"Eating alone today?" Farin is suddenly there, and I grip my book with one hand. Reaching out with my power ever so subtly, I make sure things are okay around me. The stone around me rumbles contentedly. Perhaps this is just a coincidence, then. Or maybe it's just that Farin isn't the danger.

"I do this sometimes…" Except Xan takes that moment to plop themselves down right opposite me. Their tray is armed with meats, fruits, and potatoes. I blink.

"Apparently not alone." Farin smiles, but I can tell it's forced.

"Ah. Maybe another time." In a way, I want to know what it is she wanted to talk to me about. But I'm also starting to wonder if perhaps her assignment has something to do with me. Her approach here and now is far too coincidental. I watch her walk away before turning my attention back to Xan.

"Did you find anything?"

"Not even a 'Hello, how are you?' How about 'Hey there, stranger, can I have some of that food?'" Xan wiggles their eyebrows at me, a huge smile on their face.

"Nope," I say, taking a big bite out of my muffin and looking them dead in the eyes.

"Not even a hello." Xan laughs, right on cue. It's good to see they've stopped this overprotective nonsense.

"Fine." They pause and pick at their food, pretending not to notice as I pull pieces onto my own plate. Sometimes their gaze can be unnerving, just like it is right now. I think they're trying to use telepathy to get through to me. Pity I can't read thoughts. What if that's a magic power too?

"I'm headed out to check on the plants after this," I say around a bite of muffin.

"I'll go via Lennick's office and see if he's found more information for me."

"I need to replenish my own stocks. Mind if I join you?" Xan's words are a little too stilted for someone who might be listening closely. Luckily, only Lennick knows us well enough to notice.

"Sure," I say, gulping down the last of the muffin and pushing myself upright. As I turn around, Minx is standing there, her eyes bright with excitement. They're usually bright with something. Mischievousness. Pranks. Laughter.

"Minx." That's the closest I'll come to a greeting. She grins.

"I'm so glad I caught you. Aarron said you would be able to help me with potion stocks since Lennick is busy today." That's news to me. Did I miss a message? Has Aarron found out? Maybe Lennick's in trouble. A sliver of panic tries to take hold of me, but I push it down, steadying myself through my connection to the earth. Drawing strength for stabilization without pulling power. It's a small distinction and one I have to practice until it's second nature.

"I'm about to head to the alchemy lab. Feel free to follow." As I turn to leave, I notice Xan suck in a breath. They're fully aware I didn't mean a word of that. We won't be able to talk if Minx sticks to us like glue.

"I didn't realize you were Lennick's stand-in." Minx chatters freely as we make our way through the halls.

"Neither did I," I mutter, irritation making my tongue reckless.

"What are you talking about?" Xan interjects.

"There's no way Taria can stand in for Lennick."

"Thanks," I answer, toning down my glare only slightly. Minx's laughter peals down the halls, reverberating off the walls. I can practically feel the stones recoiling. Then again, perhaps I'm projecting my own feelings there. It's not that I dislike Minx; it's just I've never had any reason to befriend her. Though I do fondly remember those sweet rolls. She's not a bad person. Other than the whole assassin thing. But I'm not one to throw stones. The alchemy lab is empty, as is the classroom adjoining it.

The scrying room, however, is bustling with activity. Or as bustling as it gets. There are three people scrying, and if I'm observing correctly, Ellir is supervising. He glances over and nods at me, flashing a brief grin. We've had an understanding since I didn't kill him in their failed test. He gives me respect, and I acknowledge him. Thinking back to the few alchemy classes I've given so far, I feel like perhaps I should have considered scrying supervision instead. It looks less people contact-y.

"So," I say, turning to Minx, "what is it you need?" My bruising is itching now, like there's something inside me that needs healing and is doing so. It's all I can do not to scratch at it. Instead, I stand with my arms crossed, trying to appear at least marginally approachable.

"I need three sleep tonics, knockout potency. As well as some Orwellian dream." I raise an eyebrow at the last. It's usually used for torturing, and I'd never really thought of Minx and torture together. She glances at the mild disbelief on my face.

"Sevrin is giving me some instruction. Aarron believes I need to use harsher techniques." I don't need my constant contact with the earth around us to notice that she's a shade paler than previously. In some ways, I believe our Novice class is a huge disappointment to the Order. We don't really have anyone who kills for the fun of it. Though Keliar probably comes close.

"Anything else?" I ask as I pull the tonics out, and search for the ingredients for Orwellian dream. It won't take long to mix.

"No, that's it." But there's hesitance in her words, and for some reason I know she's lying. The flow I've been cultivating these last two days picks up on it. Not in the way the energy ripples through me, but in the way it passes around her. Interesting.

"What else do you need? It doesn't have to come under orders." I hope she understands.

"Oh, I mean, you'll still be charged, but Aarron doesn't have to give orders for everything." Her expression lightens and she flashes me a nervous smile.

"I need something to help me sleep." I nod and pull out some of the compressed melatonin dissolvers. The powder is tangy and melts, helping with sleep.

"Here. But take them every second day. Stop taking it after a couple of weeks. It can cause mood swings. Let me know if you still need help after that." Bundling the rest of her order together, I glance at her. The ripples surrounding her have calmed. I can't even imagine how vast the uses for this ability are.

"Here. I'll mark you down in the ledger—your pay will be docked."

"Thanks, Taria." And her appreciation seems genuine. Maybe she's just awkward around me.

"Sure." I try to smile as she takes her leave. Xan is crouched down, leafing through one of Lennick's tomes. They'd better be careful, not being known as overly studious before this. It's about time to head out when Ellir approaches me.

"Hey, Taria. Got a moment?"

"Sure do." Not for you, I want to add, because at this point in time, my patience has worn thin. But it's not Ellir's fault our first unwanted visitor already overstayed her welcome. Ellir glances from side to side, like he doesn't want to be overheard. The vibrations that leak into the atmosphere around him tell me he's nervous.

"So?" I ask, hoping to prod him along.

"Oh. Yes. I have several contracts to deliver to Aarron. I know you've been recovering from your last and wanted to give you a heads up that I think one of these will be for you." He smiles wanly and takes a step back.

"Just so you can rest up before. You know?" I frown as he heads back into the scrying room. There's a part of me that wants to go get that contract and see for myself. But I'm not on duty in there, and if I go in, I'll be roped in. Aarron will send me the contract soon enough. My favorite thing about the garden adjoining the atrium is that there's still a lot of work to be done since our move. It gives me the ideal excuse to practice, to figure out how to use my ability without endangering myself or others.

Technically, anyway. When I use the magic for the good of nature, for growing from the soil, pulling from the sun, getting the best nutrients into the plants—that is the time I funnel it through my channels, but it doesn't take from me because I'm more of a gateway allowing for passage from one to another. The only time it seems to drain my own power is when whatever I'm trying to use it for isn't necessarily a force of nature. Like when I specifically tried to heal Xan.

When I specifically asked for a solution with the ambushers, it again needed to pull from me. There's a certain logic to it. Yet I'm missing something. But out here in nature, it's almost easy to forget that what I can do isn't common. Or at least isn't right now. Just allowing power to pass through my channels, seeing how it soothes the rawness, how it helps strengthen the path. Clearing out weeds, separating plants that have twined together and shouldn't have.

Bringing out the potency so that each single herb is stronger requires less for more. It's magic I can weave without fearing it will drain me. Now all I have to do is figure out why people suddenly forgot how to cultivate these powers. To the extent that it fell from general knowledge—from any knowledge, in fact. Somewhere along the lines, magical conduits were burned out before ever realizing what they are. It's the only explanation. The more I learn, the stranger I find it that people thought magic disappeared.

It's there, and it's not very subtle about it. There has to be more to it than we were told; I just have to figure out what.