Chương 30: Chapter 29: Ninety-seven percent of mixed-gender friendships contain unspoken romantic tension

"I'm heading out," Fabrisse said, slinging his satchel over one shoulder and trying to sound casual about it. The clock struck eight. Outside, the stars had begun their slow reveal across the velvet dome of sky, scattered like chalk dust across a blackboard. The campus had quieted, save for the occasional echo of a wardstone adjusting itself and the metallic chime of an unsupervised experiment misbehaving two quads over.

Greg sat cross-legged on the floor with his back against the desk, writing into one of his four color-coded notebooks. His textbooks had long since crossed the invisible line between being read and being audited. Not like Fabrisse could criticize him. At least Greg could cast spells when he wanted. Fabrisse had never once seen him attempt practical Thaumaturgy inside the dorm. The closest he came to casting was tapping his pen with exactly the right rhythm to sync with his outline.

Sometimes, if you listened long enough, you could almost believe the pen was channeling a mnemonic cadence on its own, translating thought into quiet order. Watching Greg work, you could almost believe organization was a branch of Thaumaturgy.

"Out where?" Greg asked.

"Training," Fabrisse replied, trying not to fidget. Greg turned so slowly that it teetered into theatrical territory.

"Training? You mean Thaumaturgy?"

"Mm-hm."

"You don't even train during normal hours." Greg stopped for a second and said, "Did the blond girl put you up to this?" Fabrisse hesitated.

"I mean… not exactly."

"You don't train. But you're about to go training with a girl."

"Well—""So you like her."

"What? No! I didn't say—" Fabrisse fumbled with the strap of his satchel, nearly dropping it. He tried to fix it, then gave up and just stood there.

"When's the last time you, uh, had a girl in your life?" He immediately realized how much more aggressive that line sounded than everything else he usually said, and that got him biting his lips.

"No girl's visited you since your sister, and before that, the transfer student from the Eastern Jade coast. Neither of them climbed the window."

'The transfer student from the Eastern Jade coast' was Fabrisse's only ex-girlfriend, sort of. Her name was Zan, and their relationship didn't work out because, well, she was a transfer student. She went back home at the end of the term and vanished from the face of the planet. I mean, Greg wouldn't know much about Liene. She went on that excursion before he moved in.

"Liene's a bit hyper."

"You two seem like friends, which is concerning," Greg turned back to his notes, as if the matter had already been settled.

"There's no friendship between guys and girls."

"That's not true."

"Ninety-seven percent of mixed-gender friendships contain at least one unspoken romantic tension. I can cite the source." Fabrisse opened his mouth, kept it hanging for a couple seconds before speaking, "We're doing spell drills. That's it."

"Mhm. What does she get from it?"

"Uh…" He didn't know.

"I don't know."

"She likes you." Fabrisse opened the door. Then turned his head back, halfway through a defensive comeback.

"It's not like she's—" Thump. He walked straight into someone. He stumbled back a step. A pie box tilted dangerously in the air.

"Oh!" came a familiar voice, cheerful and terribly unbothered as she un-tilted the box.

"Hi, Fabri~" It was Liene. She stood just outside the doorway, one foot over the dormitory threshold, holding a paper-wrapped parcel and grinning like someone who didn't know she had just been the subject of a statistical debate. The moonlight caught her hair like a very smug halo. Fabrisse's voice climbed an octave.

"How—how did you get in here? This is the boys' wing."

"I climbed the ivy trellis," she said.

"The wards on this window are outdated and very climbable. You should report that, Greg." This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Okay… But why did she climb the window just to show up at the front door…

"I'll file a note," Greg replied without looking up from his notes. Fabrisse wondered how much of the conversation she'd heard, but decided not to ask. She held up the box.

"Anyway, I brought pie. Mingleberry from the kitchen annex. One for you, one for Greg." Greg said, "I'm good."

"You're never good," Liene chirped.

"I meant I don't want pie."

"Your loss," she said, already pushing the box into Fabrisse's hands.

"Now come on, Rock Witch. We've got spells to cast." Fabrisse glanced back at Greg, who gave him a tiny shrug which was equal parts judgment and pity.

"I don't know how to levitate rocks," said Liene, the supposed Stone Thaumaturgy mentor stand-in. Fabrisse didn't look all that surprised.

"I thought so." She tilted her head.

"Oh no. Am I being demoted from mentor to decorative sidekick?" He shrugged.

"Earth Thaumaturgy's an elective. Half the people I've asked think it's just a theory class about dirt. No one signs up for it." He still resented how this 'elective' was locked behind Basic Fire Thaumaturgy II, by the way.

"Because dirt is deeply unsexy," Liene said.

"And supremely hard to control, sadly." Fabrisse cracked a smile.

"Not wrong." They stood in a half-cleared courtyard behind the alchemy shed, under a sky smeared with moonlight and a few drifting glyphlights (lamps powered by aether) from nearby wards. Someone had dragged an old practice dummy into one corner, possibly Cuman. Fabrisse dropped his satchel and pulled out a smaller Stupenstone.

"I, uh... recently learned this spell. Sort of. It slings this thing like a projectile."

"You throw a rock," Liene said.

"Aetherically," he clarified, with more pride than he should've. She laughed. He turned it in his hands.

"Thing is, it's not consistent. It kind of… arcs weird. I think it's my focus. Or maybe how I'm holding the emotion. Or maybe my brain has to catch up with the spell in real time."

"You know emotional modulation is optional for many spells, right?"

"Well, yes, but—" Hold on. But what? He really didn't need to focus on emotional channeling for now. He just needed to throw a rock. It seemed like the Eidralith agreed. [NEW QUEST UNLOCKED: "Further Studies in Applied Lithics"] Objective: Raise Stupenstone Fling to Rank II Reward: 5 Stone Thaumaturgy Mastery Points Fabrisse winced. Of all the spells to receive a dedicated training quest, it had to be the one that involved throwing rocks.

If he hadn't learned Stupenstone Fling yet, Progress Dividend would've simply absorbed the experience passively while he trained something useful. He could've spent the evening working on Stratal Harmonic Sense instead. Listening to the composition of loams while becoming a better thaumaturge at the same time sounded like a much better deal. A finger poked him in the forehead.

"You're spacing out again," Liene said.

"I was thinking."

"Mhm."

"You're good with long-range casts, right? Your Lightstrike was clean enough to make Miro cry."

"He tripped," she said.

"But yes."

"So, I figured… maybe you could help me? With, like, keeping the mental channel clean when you cast at range. Or aiming while your head's still full of other emotions."

"You aim spells while emotionally spiraling?" Fabrisse looked dead serious.

"It's the only way I know how." Liene arched an eyebrow, then stepped back and began pacing in a spontaneous circle around him, one of her habits when she was either planning something or stalling for dramatic effect.

"Is embarrassment still your primary emotion control?" She stepped closer and attempted to pinch his cheek.

"Cute." He swatted her hand away.

"Tell me what I should do before touching me."

"Okay!" She grinned.

"You should learn to cast before the shame peaks." And then she pinched his cheek. Fabrisse made a helpless little gesture with both hands.

"What?" She stepped toward him again and held out both hands.

"The trick is that if you can't focus on a specific emotion yet, don't cast after the emotion arrives. Cast before it arrives. Watch; watch." Hold on. No, not yet! I have this skill and I haven't designated an unmastered skill to gain from it! [New Passive Skill — Progress Dividend (Basic, Rank I)] Type: Passive (Aether) Effect: For every 1% progress gained toward progressing a mastered skill, you may redirect that same percentage to the progress of another unmastered skill of equal Tier & Rank (up to 7%).

Repeatable daily.

"Wait!" He shouted. Liene jumped.

"What?"

"I need a minute."

"For what?"

"Optimization." Liene stared at him.

"Is this a Fabrisse thing?" Fabrisse was already rummaging through his satchel for a note of the spells Cakil had recommended him learn. Liene eventually planted a hand on her hip and nodded.

"Okay. Do your weird rock-boy routine." Flames damned it; I left the notes at home. Now he had to rummage through the system options and try to recall which ones Cakil had recommended him. Loamwake had to be one. Detecting recent footprints and burrowing activity was essential for any respectable field geologist. Or maybe Earthcall. It felt wrong to call himself an Earth Thaumaturge if he couldn't even produce earth on command. Fire Thaumaturges produced flames from nothing all the time.

Then again, Cakil's recommendations usually prioritized utility over spectacle. He'd probably tell Fabrisse to stop trying to imitate Fire mages and learn something useful. Then he looked up. Fabrisse, stop yourself. You haven't said 'thank you' to Liene.

"Thank you," he managed. She smiled at him.