Chương 22: Chapter 21: Fabrisse’s brain did a small loop-de-loop and promptly fell off its broom

They did, in fact, spend the next fifteen minutes talking about berries. He did not like mingleberry on its own. It was overly tart when fresh, the skin too thin, the flesh too aggressive. It overwhelmed the palate. In pie, particularly when baked long enough to soften the acidity and balanced with a denser crust, it was excellent. She asked whether honey glaze beat sugar crust and whether mingleberry belonged beside stonefruit or darker preserves. He found himself elaborating.

When he asked—somewhat belatedly—whether she liked them, she shook her head. And yet she knew an unreasonable amount about them. She could distinguish between highland frostberries and low-valley sunpearl clusters. Some varieties bruised in transit; others hardened in colder climates. Imported thornberries from the coastal terraces of Kyros supposedly tasted sweeter after years of salt winds. There was even a dark violet strain cultivated in the shaded river valleys of Jax. Fabrisse found himself staring at her.

"You don't eat berries, but you've catalogued them." She shrugged.

"Knowing a thing and consuming it are not the same. Now, I'll repeat the sequence again, okay?" That sounded like what Veliane would say. Actually, he had no way of knowing that. He didn't know much about Veliane Veist apart from the fact that she was the prettiest girl in her year, possibly in the entire Synod. Veliane stepped back into position without waiting for his agreement. He found himself clutching the side of his satchel. He couldn't understand why; her standing in front of him did that.

Until now, he had been watching structure, the visible mechanics of casting. But as she began again, Fabrisse noticed that aether did not simply appear around her hands. It emerged within her. It was like watching water crest over a lip once pressure equalized: effortless because the resistance had already been resolved.

"Stratum above, stratum below…" She was murmuring again.

"What technique are you using?" he blurted.

"For what?" She stopped chanting.

"To call it. You're not forcing it. There's… there's a transition before manifestation. What are you doing there?"

"It's not a technique," she said.

"Lugano teaches draw sequences. You synchronize breathing with your pulse, then… well, technically you don't have to, but he recommends starting from the sternum…" He frowned.

"Or the solar plexus. Depends who wrote the manual." His voice turned quiet.

"It never worked." She let him finish his little speech. A very small smile appeared at the corner of her mouth.

"Magus Lugano is my mentor too."

"… What?"

"He's excellent with glyphcrafting and anything requiring structure. His mapped sequences are sound. But sometimes, when the structure becomes too intricate, it ceases to support and begins to constrict. Not every current requires a scaffold. Some only ask that you unclench your hands." That last couple of lines from her didn't sound like they would normally be spoken out loud. It sounded as though she'd just quoted a book. She continued, "I don't think about conjuring my aether.

You lose the magic in magic if you reduce it to an extraction problem." That was also very possibly a book quote. Instructional, this time.

"That's not measurable."

"It doesn't need to be. You ought to try it." He reluctantly raised his hand and attempted the sequence again. The result was identical to every previous attempt: nothing. Nonetheless, Veliane didn't prompt him. So he tried again. This time he stopped searching for tingling, stopped hunting for the exact sensation Mentor Lugano had described. Breath moving in. The trench smelled metallic. Breath moving out. It now smelled of wet clay. A root pressed against the wall to his right.

He suddenly felt the existence of tiny reflective flecks flashing as if illuminated from within. The surrounding loam separated into rich organic pockets and pale mineral veins with more clarity than ever. Had it always looked like this? Then it was gone.

"There was a spark," Veliane said. He opened his eyes.

"There was?"

"Yes. I saw it on your fingertip." He looked down but saw no spark. He raised his hand again and tried to reproduce it. Nothing.

"Don't overthink it," Veliane said.

"It'll eventually come naturally to you." He was about to protest. Then Eidralith flashed into view. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. [Stratal Harmonic Sense: Progress to Understanding — 36%] The pane dissolved as quickly as it had appeared. Veliane was watching him carefully, but she did not ask. Veliane must've been at least somewhat right if Eidralith was to be believed. He was progressing.

There was only one way to prove it: to keep casting and see if the spell would come to him if the progress bar reached 100%. So he raised his hand and cast again. [Stratal Harmonic Sense: Progress to Understanding — 100%] An hour later, he could finally tell what was underneath the wall: loam, minerals, threads of pale particulate that was possibly silicate, and moisture gradients. He couldn't tell what was where, but maybe that was the extent of the Rank I version of the spell he'd just learned. It was.

Stratal Harmonic Sense (Rank I) Description: Grants harmonic perception of stratified earth within a 1m radius. Reveals relative density, compositional variance, moisture gradients, and structural discontinuities. Requires direct line of proximity to exposed or minimally obstructed terrain. Huh? An hour ago, he hadn't been able to summon a spark. The flow now came when he called, for this spell at least. That'd seemed enough for Eidralith to reward him with an excellent boon.

[Quest Complete: Foundational Specialization] Reward: +260 EXP Skill Received: Prerequisite Optimization — Rank I Effect: Designate one Rare Skill. All prerequisite Common Skills linked to the designated Rare Skill gain +5% Progression Rate. EXP: 2290/2400 He pulled the skill tree open and confirmed his hypothesis had been correct. He'd unlocked two new Rare spells.

Lithic Harmonic Dissection (Rare – Rank I) Prerequisite: Stratal Harmonic Sense (Rank III) Trigger Condition: Must maintain uninterrupted Stratal Harmonic Sense on the same terrain for at least 8 seconds. Effect: Allows the caster to attune to a specific stratal harmonic layer within sensed terrain and induce localized resonance stress along its natural structural boundaries. The targeted layer becomes temporarily more brittle, more cohesive, or more resonant depending on applied harmonic modulation.

May affect up to a 0. 5m segment within the 1m sensing radius. Duration: 5 seconds. Does not increase total mass manipulated and cannot generate force beyond existing structural limits. Stratal Imprint Cartography (Rare – Rank I) Prerequisite: Stratal Harmonic Sense (Rank II), Strata Recall (Rank III) Trigger Condition: Must have previously observed the target terrain with Stratal Harmonic Sense within the last 24 hours.

Effect: Reconstructs a stabilized harmonic imprint of previously sensed earth within a 2m radius, allowing delayed comparative analysis without direct line-of-sight. Provides relative layering memory, density shifts, and major discontinuities as recorded during prior observation. Does not update in real time and cannot detect new changes since initial imprint. But the more shocking thing was that Veliane had stayed an entire hour while he fumbled through repetition.

Whatever she had originally wanted to speak to him about had to really be worth the time. The skill tree dimmed as Fabrisse dismissed it. Cakil was nowhere in sight anymore. The sun had sunk low enough that the walls of the trench turned the cut earth into bands of amber and shadow. Veliane glanced toward the academy towers in the distance.

"It's late now," she said.

"Are you… perhaps going back to the dorms?"

"Yes," he answered, perhaps a touch too quickly. Then, more cautiously, "I was planning to."

"They have merryberry pie today. With the glaze too." His mind supplied entirely the wrong response. Pie. Glaze. Dorms. Walking together. He clutched the strap of his satchel again. She reminded him that conversations were meant to go both ways.

"If you're heading that way… I don't mind company." Fabrisse's brain did a small loop-de-loop and promptly fell off its broom.

"Uh, sure. I mean yes." They walked. The first minute passed in complete silence. The second displayed a strong commitment to precedent.

"So..." Veliane said eventually.

"How many rocks do you actually keep in that satchel?"

"Hm?" Fabrisse looked down at it.

"Fifteen. Maybe sixteen. As many as it'll hold without becoming structurally concerning."

"Did you get another one recently?"

"Another...?" He thought back, remembering that he did retrieve one earlier from the duck-thing. He hadn't even inspected that one properly yet. All he knew was that it was starfeld spar, a pale feldspathic stone shot through with tiny luminescent inclusions. Uncommon, though not especially valuable. He nodded.

"Is it starfeld spar?" He nodded again. How did she know that?

"May I see it?" He reached into the satchel and found the stone by touch. It felt… odd. Familiarly odd. Strata Recall required no mnemonic. This time, it'd just activated on its own. Washing over him was a sudden urge to look anywhere except straight ahead. He waited for the familiar flashes of vision, yet nothing came save for that same emotion, filling him with startling clarity. It was shame. This stone had imprinted shame. He looked from the stone to Veliane. She had gone strangely quiet.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to fish it out anymore. He did anyway. Veliane winced.

"It's, um…" She wasn't going to say this belonged to her, was she?

"... It's mine." She bit her lip.