Chương 47: Chapter 43

"Pardon me for saying so, but you do not look well, Shaya," Samorn said, scratching Quill's head as it rested in the petite woman's lap. Her solid white eyes looked at Shaya with concern. Shaya was still surprised Samorn was at home in nature, lounging on the ground like the rest of them despite the fact her full, purple hair pooled around her and the grass threatened to stain her immaculate white silk robes.

Given the woman's perfect posture and upbringing, she had assumed Samorn would find nature beneath her or not worth the trouble. She was pleasantly surprised at how wrong she was. Though, given his purring, not nearly as pleased as Quill. Storm Breaker watched them from a nearby hill, making sure nothing happened to Quill, but also not coming any closer to them. The adult gryphon had adopted Quill into their flock, but apparently trusted the gryphlet to pick his friends.

Storm Breaker certainly didn't seem inclined to spend any time around people, unless it was to frighten them away.

"Damn," Bri said, "even Samorn thinks you look like spit."

"That's…not at all what I said," Samorn said, frowning at the copper-haired giant sitting across from her.

"Sure," Bri continued with a grin, "but given how polite you are, that's basically how it translates." Apricot giggled, then looked up in embarrassment, covering her mouth with her small hands as she did so. Samorn gave the slight woman a melodramatic, annoyed glance, then turned her attention back to Bri.

"Nonsense, I'm simply expressing concern for our friend's well-being."

"Yeah, me too," Bri said, turning to Shaya.

"You look like spit, you should probably do something about that since our first deployment is tomorrow."

"Thanks, ladies," Shaya said, narrowing her eyes at all of them, "but don't worry, I took the night off, so I can get some beauty sleep for tomorrow." It was a cool evening, the sun long set since they'd gathered after Shaya's Game Theory class, and the moon and stars hanging overhead. Shaya wondered idly if Cirithill had really descended from the moon, or if that was just a legend tied to Her. Did She really know everything that occurred in the light of the moon?

Stories of Astoria also claimed that She had a fortress in the sun, which seemed impossible, but who really knew what was fact or fiction when it came to the gods? Especially these days. Samorn's, Bri's, and Apricot's eyes followed Shaya's up to the sky, looking over the stars.

"There's the Grappler," Apricot said, pointing at a constellation of a hulking biped, crouched and ready to twist people into a pretzel. Samorn's nose wrinkled.

"In the Empire we call that the Beast, since it looks like a monster ready to maul someone."

"Oh, neat," Apricot said, shifting her hand to point at a long, thin constellation.

"We call that one the Blade of Peace. What do you call it here?" Samorn cocked her head.

"The same. That is the blade that Heiwa wielded, the founder of the Wardens on campus. When he was dying, it is said that he cast his blade into the night sky so that it might watch over all of us and remind us of the importance of peace."

"Our legends say that the Blade of Peace is a terrible weapon,"—Apricot looked down at the ground, hugging a book to her chest—"that it was cast into the night sky so that no others could wield it, since the Blade's desires were too unrealistic to achieve short of killing everyone."

"Hmm," Samorn purred as she thought that over, "from what I have heard, Heiwa did possess…unrealistic standards. It's said that the Wardens follow in his footsteps, the selection process more arduous than any of the other Orders to ensure no one that could be corrupted joins."

"So," Shaya said, changing the subject, "how are you getting along with your Lance these days, Apricot?"

"Oh, quite well actually," she replied, giving them one of her shy smiles.

"Lan was a huge help in getting the others to accept me, he's really nice."

"I'm happy to hear it. Our interactions have been brief, but he seems like a really loyal guy." Shaya cocked her head to a side.

"Though now that I think about it, I don't think I saw him at mounted combat yesterday."

"Oh," Apricot brought a thin finger up to her lips, "yeah, I don't think I've seen him in a couple days either. I think he said he was going clothes shopping on the fourth laye—" BOOM! The explosion pulled everyone's attention towards the stables housing horses, terror birds, and other steeds—which now burned with deep green fire. The main administrative building across from them lit up with magical lanterns in a second.

From this distance, Shaya's group could barely make out people scurrying out towards the scene of the disaster. In the next enclosure over, where more exotic animals were stabled, drakes screeched and pegasi whinnied. Those animals are terrified. Then the scent reached her distant vantage point, a metallic tang Shaya had grown too familiar with on the streets of The Blight. Blood.

"Something's really wrong," Shaya said, standing, "I smell blood—lots of it."

"Let's see what's going on," Bri said as she and the others stood up.

"Sorry, Quill," Shaya said, bending over to scratch her friend's head, "we need to cut our visit short. Stay with Storm Breaker, we'll pick you up on our way home." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. He gave an understanding chirp and nodded at her to go.

None of them had noticed that Storm Breaker stood less than ten feet away now, waiting for Quill to limp over to him before the two gryphs departed together by foot, since Quill had yet to learn to fly. Shaya and her friends rushed towards the burning stables, hearing the cries, screeches, and screams of animals as they approached. The stench of blood and cooked meat was overwhelming, but Shaya managed to avoid gagging as it clawed its way into her throat.

They found Bari in the chaos, calling out orders to what few staff she had on hand.

"What happened?" Shaya asked as her group approached. Bari's jaws bunched up, eyes narrow as she looked at her.

"Someone blew up the godsdamned stables, that's what." Shaya's eyes widened.

"Has the bastard been caught?"

"No," Bari waved the question away, "there's a trace of alchemical compounds and no trace of a person, the Inquisitors can sort through it later; I have more immediate problems to worry about."

"How can I help?" Shaya asked.

"How can we help?" Samorn corrected, Apricot and Bri nodding. Bari looked over them, weighed her options, then nodded.

"I'm in no position to argue. Shaya, go help Jora with surgery. If you so much as hesitate, I'll kick you out of here before you can blink." The large beast woman pulled out her dagger with the aethercyte pommel and handed it to Shaya.

"Use this to keep up. Drawing from aethercyte is much like drawing from the aetherium, just focus your attention on it and you'll draw from it instead."

"Got it," Shaya said.

"Also: the exotic animals are panicking, they might hurt themselves if left alone." Bari shook her head.

"I know, but I can't spare Sereli calming them when an experienced Azurite here could save more animals."

"I'll do it," Samorn offered, "then be back to assist as needed."

"Good." Bari looked to the last two.

"Are you Jade or Azurite mages?" They shook their heads.

"Then you're manual labourers." Bari's eyes flared with Jade light as she reached out towards them. Shaya sensed the magic at this distance after training her dowsing over the weeks, getting a clearer picture of how deftly Bari shaped it. She felt the similarities in the magic she had been practicing with, getting a vague sense of the formula's shape—bear's strength?

"Focus on getting the horses out," Bari explained after finishing her spell.

"That should give you the strength to drag them out individually. Leave the terror birds to me—they're going to be very hostile."

"Wait," Shaya said, "Phaedra! Ward my allies from destructive energy!" Seconds later, Apricot and Bri sported golden shields affixed to their arms.

"The wards aren't omnidirectional, but it should protect against any of those weird flames if they get too close." She nodded at them.

"Good luck, and let me know when you're done with them so I can stop sustaining the spells." With that, everyone broke off to do their jobs. The next few hours dragged on, full of more blood and gore than Shaya had ever encountered across her entire life. She played the role of assistant to Jora as the two moved from animal to animal, stabilizing those they could and leaving others to their fate if it looked out of their hands.

After a few weeks, she was just starting to grasp elements of the metamagic that Auric was teaching her, and it proved invaluable. Though fairly inexperienced with her control blood spell, with a minor modification to focus its energies onto a small space of a creature, Shaya was able to maintain the spell for longer than she would have if left unmodified.

Slowing the blood across an entire creature's body—especially one the size of a horse—would have burned out her channels in short order, but slowing the blood loss around the wound itself proved effective enough to let her save many more lives. At first, Sereli and Bari stood in the centre of the triage area in front of the burning stables, each channelling wide-reaching spells. Sereli's emitted a sedating effect on the animals, ensuring they didn't harm themselves further in their pain and panic.

Bari's was even more impressive, providing a minor regenerative effect over a huge area to give Jora and Shaya more time to heal each animal and invigorating everyone at the same time. Bari's mass spell packed more of a punch than Shaya's individual invigorate spell, leaving her feeling more alert and alive than she had in weeks.

Bri and Apricot busied themselves with pulling horses out of the enormous stables, both looking increasingly shaken as the green flame spread and the animals they emerged with looked worse and worse. Two dozen horses were pulled from the stables, with an additional dozen terror birds by Bari while she maintained her spell. Samorn returned and joined Jora and Shaya, singing to the animals they were treating—channelling her magic to put them to sleep.

Her voice was beautiful, and Shaya wished her first memory of Samorn singing wouldn't forever be tied to carnage. By the end of the night, she also realized that Samorn was more than happy to get her hands dirty—her robes as blood soaked as the rest of them while doing her part. Shaya recognized Inquisitor Valanar when she arrived with a retinue to investigate the cause of the fire. The Inquisitor spared her a glance upon arrival, but otherwise went about her business without paying Shaya any more mind.

Shortly after Valanar, more mages arrived to help tend to the wounded and control the situation. Late into the night, Shaya stood watching the stables burn, the strange green fire illuminating the sky with its sickly light. Yet the magic did not consume the wood it covered—only any flesh it came into contact with. The Inquisitor had insisted no one dispel it, since its caster could have left a "fingerprint" a skilled Amethyst mage might be able to identify and track.

"Your mothers would be proud of you," Bari said, walking up to stand beside Shaya.

"You would know," Shaya said, not turning her bloodshot, exhausted eyes away from the fire.

"Maybe I deserve that," Bari sighed, "and I think I owe you an apology."

"I think you owe me more than that." Shaya looked at the older woman next to her, too tired to hold back her frustration.

"You hold a key to my past, and I want to know about my mother. I deserve to know what happened, gods dammit." Bari's eyes narrowed in return, the two women glaring at one another for a few seconds. But Bari was the one that broke contact, turning to look at the fire. She sighed.

"You're right."

"Wait," Shaya said, incredulous, "really?"

"Yes." Bari managed an exhausted chuckle.

"But not here, not now. Go sleep, you deploy tomorrow. We'll chat after."

"I'll hold you to that," Shaya said.

"Don't push your luck, cub," Bari replied, but she seemed amused at Shaya's attitude.

"What?"

"You just remind me of her."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Shaya asked, eyes narrowing on the older woman. Her one present connection to her maligned mother.

"It just is, Shaya." Bari sighed again.

"Not everything is so easily categorized. Devi lived, laughed, and improved the lives of some, but her convictions harmed and killed others who did not share them. To some, she is a freedom fighter, to the Empire at large she's a schemer, a terrorist, a heretic." Bari turned to her, running her claws through her unruly vine hair and sweeping it behind her horns.

Jade-flecked brown eyes met Shaya's, no doubt mirroring her own exhaustion—perhaps even mirroring the pain they both shared whenever the topic of Devi arose. Finally, with a deep sigh, she continued, "Just because you share her traits doesn't mean you'll become her—it's what you do with them that will form the basis of your story."