Chương 7

By some miraculous stroke of luck, the trio managed to avoid any further direct confrontations with monsters. More importantly, by the time Ciri's mothers returned and declared the town safe, they had saved six more Fae who'd been caught in the fighting—including a little boy. Only after Noah personally escorted each of them back to their homes did he finally turn to Ciri and ask the question that had been weighing on him since seeing several Fae crying in the street.

"How many?" Noah began after she recast the fading spell that allowed them to communicate.

"How many what?" She replied.

"How many died?"

"I do not know. I would have to ask my parents – they would know. Based on the number of reported Corrupted and the damage we have seen so far though, I would estimate between eight and fourteen."

"Shit. How big is your tribe?"

"Approximately 300, before the attack. Some members come and go, some live nearby, and some temporarily join affiliated tribes." He did the math in his head.

"That's…up to about 5% of your tribe, gone."

"Yes."

"Is life here always this dangerous?"

"It can be. We have magic to protect us, and well-established procedures to follow in the event of danger. We also have a strong understanding of the forest around us, and know how to protect against the most likely threats."

"Are these corrupted one of those likely threats?" He pressed.

"No." She answered instantly.

"Especially not in groups this size. There were at least seven of them."

"What…are they?"

"The result of misuse of magic," she answered. When it became clear she wasn't about to follow that up with a detailed explanation, Noah spoke again.

"Ciri, I'm going to need a little more than that." They walked in silence for several moments before she amended her response.

"I'm sorry. This is… not a topic spoken of lightly. Especially to humans. Especially to someone not from this realm."

"I think I've earned a little trust today," he said as they reached her parents' house.

"It isn't a question of trust," she replied.

"I would need permission from my father and my mothers to speak about this."

"To speak about what?" Ken asked from the balcony, clearly having overheard the end of their exchange.

"I want to know what the Corrupted are," Noah said, looking up at him. A pensive expression crossed Ken's face before he nodded once.

"I suppose you've earned that much. Come inside, though. This isn't a conversation to have in the street." Satisfied that answers were finally coming, Noah bounded up the stairs two at a time. He stepped through the still-broken doorway to find Vela and Thala already seated at the table, nursing glasses of amber liquid. Both wore comfortable robes, their hair still damp. The grime and blood of battle were gone, washed away, and somewhere deeper in the house he could hear running water.

I should probably shower too, he thought. After this.

"Noah has asked that we tell him about the Corrupted," Ken said as he entered behind him.

"I believe his actions today have demonstrated his trustworthiness." Thala and Vela exchanged a grim look before nodding.

"We suspected he might ask," Vela said.

"We discussed it while you were gone," Thala added, meeting Noah's gaze directly.

"Even Aelya agrees that you've proven yourself today—and she's a difficult woman to impress. That said, what you're asking to learn is dangerous knowledge."

"Like everything else in this world," Noah muttered.

"Nevertheless," Thala continued, "we've agreed you should know. On one condition: you do not abuse this information or share it without our explicit consent." Vela's voice hardened.

"If you do, we will kill you." After seeing them fight, Noah had no doubt the threat was real. He nodded.

"I can live with those terms. I agree." Vela turned to Ciri.

"Would you like to explain?" Ciri and Noah took seats opposite them while Ken moved toward the back of the house. He opened the washroom door briefly, letting the sound of running water fill the kitchen before closing it again. The message was clear—he didn't wish to be present for this conversation. Ciri took a breath.

"Magic has laws," she began.

"They are simple, and they are taught to every Fae on the day they reach adulthood. The few humans who have learned magic have also learned these rules."

"Wait, humans can use magic?" Noah asked incredulously." I could use magic?"

"As a scribe, yes." Ciri answered. Not understanding her answer, he asked a different question.

"So I can throw fireballs and stuff?"

"No. You would be a scribe. Only a channel can cast runes." Her answer only served to confuse him further, causing him to sit back in his chair.

"Why don't I shut up and let you explain."

"An excellent idea." Vela said, smirking.

"The laws of magic are simple: those who identify as male cannot cast spells, but they can write the runes required for them. Those who do not identify as male cannot write runes, but they can use them to cast spells. These two roles form a duality, known as scribes and channels, respectively."

"Scribes write, channels cast. Got it." Noah nodded.

"The runes themselves determine what form the spell takes," Ciri continued.

"Each spell is made up of one or several runes, similar to any written language. When a channel wants to cast a spell, all she needs to do is touch the runes and envision the effect taking place. You have no doubt seen this already." Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"When you tear out the paper and press your hand to it," Noah said.

"Yeah."

"This process can be dangerous," she went on.

"Writing invalid runes is forbidden. Envisioning an effect that does not match the runes being used is also forbidden. Males activating spells or non‑males writing runes is also forbidden."

"Forbidden by whom?" Noah asked.

"By the laws of magic. Violating them leads to becoming Corrupted." He stared at her.

"You mean… the things we just fought were—Fae?"

"No," Vela said sharply.

"They were human. Fae corrupted look…different." A cold weight settled in Noah's chest.

"I killed a human?"

"No," Thala said firmly.

"You helped kill a Corrupted. A monster. Whatever person they once were was long gone. Corrupted are feral beasts that instinctively seek out sources of magic. They exist in constant agony." She held his gaze.

"Ending that suffering is an act of mercy." Noah slumped back in his chair.

"I was a fucking engineer. I had a desk job. Now I've helped kill someone. That doesn't just… go away."

"Did your world lack death?" Vela asked quietly.

"Or danger?"

"No," he said after a moment.

"But not like this. Not where I lived."

"You may need to kill again," Vela said.

"This realm demands it if you intend to survive. Something we have tried to impart onto our daughter. With no success, I might add." She paused.

"Hey!" Noah said, sitting up and suddenly feeling defensive on her behalf.

"Ciri saved lives today. That's way more valuable than being able to kill someone." He paused for a moment, trying to figure out if he'd just violated the laws of hospitality.

"In my opinion, of course." He added hastily. Ciri's eyes widened in surprise as Vela and Thala cast each other a bemused look before the latter spoke.

"Looks like someone has a spine."

"That was never in doubt after today," Vela countered.

"Listen." Noah started again, trying to choose his words carefully.

"All I'm saying is that Ciri deserves praise for today – even if she didn't pick up a weapon or kill a corrupted. Maybe especially so."

"I don't disagree," Thala said diplomatically, ignoring the way Ciri blushed red once more at Noah's comment.

"We just want her to be able to defend herself in an unsafe world. And today was absolutely a step in the right direction – her first." Her refusal to look at him didn't escape Noah's notice, nor did the way her lips curved into a small smile. Seeing her discomfort though, he redirected the conversation.

"Maybe we come back to that discussion another time, and return to the conversation at hand. It sounds like magic can be dangerous. You basically need to do it perfectly, or become corrupted."

"Yes. This is why certainty is paramount when casting a spell," Ciri said, eager to move the discussion away from the previous topic.

"It is also why experimentation is so dangerous." Noah frowned as he thought through her words.

"Wait. The washroom I used—it runs on magic. I'm not going to turn into one of those things, am I?"

"No," Thala said.

"Those spells were cast on the fixtures, not by you." He exhaled hard.

"Good."

"If you like," Ciri said carefully, "I can show you how those systems work. As a scholar who applies knowledge to practical problems, I thought you might be interested." It took Noah a second to realize she'd echoed his own words back at him. She remembered. He thought as his eyes traced her pink hair and her heart-shaped face, causing him to temporarily forget about the emotional heaviness of the conversation. Pretty much verbatim, too.

"Okay," he said when he realized he was staring.

"So some spells last longer than others. Otherwise you'd have to cast a spell every time you flush the toilet."

"Yes," Ciri said, relieved.

"Exactly."

"What determines duration?"

"The rune itself," Thala replied.

"Some spells persist until their power is exhausted. Others expend everything at once."

"And the amount of power?"

"How high the scribe is when the rune is written," Vela said. Noah blinked.

"I'm sorry— how high?"

"Their altitude," Ciri clarified.

"The winds of magic are stronger farther from sea level. Rune writing captures those winds and directs their power."

"Oh." He flushed.

"Right. Not… the other thing." Ciri tilted her head.

"What other thing?"

"Never mind," Noah said quickly.

"So, if rune writing captures winds of magic, couldn't you just write slower to capture more winds?" No," Vela said.

"It's been tested extensively."

"Are runes always written on paper?"

"Conventionally," Ciri said.

"Runes destroy their medium upon activation. Paper is cheap and disposable. We bind these pages into grimoires."

"Could you stamp them? Speed things up?"

"They must be written with special pens," she replied.

"Few remain."

"And let me guess," Noah said dryly.

"They need special ink."

"Yes," Ciri said.

"The scribe's blood." Silence fell.

"I was joking," Noah said weakly.

"I see." Vela and Thala laughed softly as Noah continued.

"So altitude matters. That makes mountains valuable real estate."

"Yes," Ciri said.

"Which is why the Summer and Winter Courts built their cities there."

"And towers," Noah said, the lightbulb in his brain suddenly illuminating.

"Like the one I woke up in."

"Exactly." He leaned back, gears turning.

"Magic isn't infinite. It's a resource. Powerful—but limited. You ration it, plan around it, and avoid experimentation because the cost of failure is becoming a monster."

"A crude summary," Vela said, "but accurate."

"You're missing one detail," Thala added.

"What's that?"

"The male–non‑male division makes men extremely valuable," Vela said.

"Especially given our birth ratios."

"Three female Fae to every male," Ciri supplied. Vela nodded.

"Males are the source of the magic that heats our homes, protects our people, and sustains our infrastructure. As a result, they are rarely exposed to danger." Noah swallowed.

"That's… different from my world."

"You should understand this quickly," Thala said.

"Your actions today will attract attention."

"Attention how?" Noah asked cautiously.

"Romantic," she said flatly. His eyes widened.

"I—what?"

"Romantic." She repeated.

"You understand what I mean, right? When two people like each other very much, they-""Yes, I have some experience with the concept." Noah cut her off sarcastically as Ciri blushed another deep shade of crimson – this time all the way to her ears.

"I just…wasn't expecting that."

"You should learn to expect it," Vela said.

"If you are interested, that is one matter. If you are not, you must learn to refuse firmly—without causing offense."

"Can't I just tell them I'm already in a relationship or something?" Noah asked, suddenly flustered.

"Why would that matter?" Thala said.

"Humans often pair monogamously," Ciri muttered, flushing even darker.

"Ah. Yes. Right." Thala nodded." Are you in a relationship?"

"I mean… no," Noah admitted.

"Then I would advise against saying that," Thala continued.

"It would be a lie, which violates the laws of hospitality. And in any case, it would not dissuade most Fae women. They are accustomed to sharing. They would simply ask to join." Well that's unexpected. I'm not against polygyny, but it feels like I'm going to make at least a few social mistakes and that could be problematic. Noah thought.

"That strategy of staying inside is starting to look very appealing, at least until I learn to navigate…this."

"It will not work," Vela said.

"Tomorrow we will hold a public funeral. You will be expected to attend. Others will see you—if they have not already. You must be prepared."

"Okay," Noah said weakly.

"I'll… think of something." Vela inclined her head.

"That is all we can ask." Noah stood, suddenly aware of how heavy his body felt. The day's adrenaline had burned off, leaving only exhaustion and a dull ache in his muscles. He paused at the hallway.

"Thank you," he said.

"For trusting me. For letting me stay."

"You are welcome, Noah," Thala said gently. He nodded and made his way to the bedroom, kicking off his boots and collapsing onto the bed without bothering to change, the idea of a shower all but abandoned. Sleep tugged at him immediately until a knock came at the door.

"Noah?" Ciri's voice. He forced himself upright, unsure if he'd fallen asleep and it was hours later or if it was mere moments.

"Come in." She slipped inside and closed the door behind her, hands clasped tightly in front of her.

"I wanted to say something," she said.

"I'm all ears." She frowned.

"What?"

"Sorry—idiom."

"I will learn them," she said solemnly, then hesitated.

"I am not… skilled at expressing emotions."

"That makes two of us," Noah said.

"I've got a trick, though. I learned it from my mom. Want to try it?"

"Yes." He raised his hand and covered his eyes.

"For some reason, it's easier when you know the other person can't see you." She was quiet for a moment. Then—"Today, I did not freeze," she said softly.

"In danger, I usually do. But this time, I acted. And I believe you are the reason."

"I don't know about that," Noah said, doing his best to deflect praise.

"You probably just didn't want to be in the same room as a Corrupted corpse."

"I considered that," she admitted.

"But this is the second time you have inspired me to act. The first was in the forest, when I saw you." She took a deep breath.

"Once is coincidence. Twice suggests a pattern." Her voice dropped.

"I do not wish for danger. But if it comes again, I look forward to seeing whether the pattern holds." Before Noah could respond, the door opened and closed again. He lowered his hand slowly, staring at the empty space she'd occupied, a faint smile tugging at his lips.