FicWad

Shadows Under the Oak Tree


(C) Intelligent Systems and Nintendo


-0-


4. Magic

(/Magic is a weapon. Never forget that./)


Next time I should try a drop of lavender with my bath oil. That would do wonders for my skin.


With a sigh of pleasure, Lily ran a hand through her wet hair. Short bursts of heat tingled through her fingers as she read from the Fire tome on her lap. Her mother had encouraged her to utilize her magic in tiny ways like this, though her father had been aghast at the idea when she was a child; he had been afraid she would limit herself from actualizing the potential in her blood. Even when she had grown into her powers and learned the destructive reality of anima magic, he would still shake his head as she channeled heat through her fingers to warm the blankets before bedtime. Her mother would only laugh, and it wouldn't be long before he would grudgingly agree that it was handy for Lily to learn such droll ways to control magic.


But, irial flowers with lavender...hm. Well, maybe. At least it isn't patchouli...oh, that's just horrible!

Once her hair was dry, she tucked the tome inside the pocket of her dress and put on her gloves before standing up to straighten out her clothes. Boots, two layers of stockings, an underskirt, a shirt, a dress, a scarf, gloves...going outside, even for the very short walk to the bath, was a journey in and of itself right after a blizzard. She looked at the dirty bath water for a long moment before turning away; after enjoying her bath, it was just too much work to get the bucket and start dumping out the water. After telling herself that she would empty it out later, she headed towards the door.


I wish I had more vanilla. That goes so nicely with irial. But since Grandma Yunice was willing to make two meat pies for that vial, it was worth it. I was really getting tired of broth, and I think Canas was too. All right, lavender it is.


She emerged from the tiny bathroom, which was attached to the other side of the sitting room; as far as Lily knew, this was typical for the average Ilian house. Canas had raved about the architectural sensibility in placing the tub on the other side of the hearth, thereby using one heat source with maximum efficiency. With a smile, she had listened to him while she wondered how wasteful the other countries were that this would be a source of amazement for him. The only problem was that the hearth was much too big to put a door next to it that would lead to the bath, which led to the inconvenience of having to run outside every time anyone wanted a bath. She had to wonder what the 'architectural sensibility' was in /that/.


But if I use one drop, why not two? I've got a surplus as is...oh, I really shouldn't. The last time I did that, that whole sagebrush fiasco happened--

"Miss Lily." Before her stood Rosliand, a villager who had once served as a scout for the Union. The older woman's face was a study in emotional control as her light blue hair and dark blue cloak flapped in the wind. "Bandit problem."

Without even acknowledging the woman, Lily bolted down the remaining few steps to her door and yanked it open. Hanging off of the door was a satchel, the strap of which she grabbed and threw around her shoulders before spinning around to leave.


"Lily?" she heard Canas say in an alarmed tone. "Is something--"

"Stay inside!" she snapped. A large part of her coiled uncomfortably at her rudeness, and she couldn't help but make amends. Glancing at the scholar on her couch, she pursed her lips in a grimace that played at being a smile and said, "I'll tell you later. Just stay inside for now." With that, she ran outside, the contents of her bag banging against her back. A slow burn in her chest made her ache with every pant and gasp as she followed Rosliand.


This wasn't the time to panic. She was the guardian of the village, no matter the problem.


She slowed down as she reached the village square. Against the white of the snow and the brown of the houses she could make out her friends, her fellow villagers, and that sight alone was enough to make her straighten her posture and take measured, steady steps towards them. It would've been nice if that was how she truly felt, confident even as the wind blew at her back and brought chills down her spine. The only footsteps she could hear were her own, every crunching step reminding of past years, when her parents walked beside her and she knew that she wasn't alone.


"How many are there?" she asked, examining the others. The way they held their weapons brought an uneasy feeling churning in her stomach. Before, they only carried weapons as a precaution should the fighting ever reach the village. Now, with the way the iron axe rested on Gouterry's shoulder, with the way Tinae's bow was tightly strung, with the way Kelial held his lance instead of leaning on it and favoring his wounded right leg... With the way they looked, Lily could've sworn they actually intended to fight. A small burn of emotion seared the inside of her throat at the implication.


Without my parents, they don't trust me to protect the village to the fullest.


Rosliand stepped forward, her heavy cloak obscuring the shape of her body. Lily knew that the sword hidden under the cloak was for defensive measures, which made her relax somewhat. At least the retired scout wasn't going to side with the others. "Miss Lily," the woman said with a nod of deference, "they are twelve strong. Half axes, half swords. The snow is difficult for them to traverse, so chances are good that they will be forced to send a scouting party."

"That will make them easier to deal with, then," Lily mused. She didn't want to address the others, but they just wouldn't leave. "Well, that seems to be all, unless you have something to tell me," she said, giving the three in question a pointed stare.


Tinae stepped forward and Lily inwardly sighed. It was a reflex. "We're coming with you," the hunter announced. "You'll need our help."

"That's a kind gesture," Lily said, and to her ears it didn't sound as hostile as she was beginning to feel. "Please, just do what you've always done and go see to your families and neighbors. This won't be any different from the other times."

"Lily, stop being stubborn!" Tinae stamped a foot down, making an audible crunch that punctuated her statement. "You need us! You can't possibly think you can do this by yourself!"

"Come on, Lady Lily," Kelial started, his honeyed voice already making Lily nauseous, "be reasonable. I'm sure you could take anyone on. I've seen you in action before, and you're pretty impressive. But..." Here he smiled at her, dark eyes twinkling. "That doesn't mean you have to, or that you should."

Her chest tightened as she tore her gaze from him. It had been three years since he first arrived in the village, and it was still unnerving how he could affect anyone with that smile, that voice, those eyes. It was as if he could pull anyone to him. Self-consciously, she rubbed her arms and pretended it was from the cold. "Let me assure you that, if I need your help, I will ask for it," she stated, feeling stronger just from speaking her mind. "Furthermore, if you're straining that leg even after all the times I've told you not to, I'm going to tie you to your bed after this."

Kelial looked surprised, a sight Lily could appreciate. Then he nodded. "Yeah, and I know you'd do it." He paused, then smiled at her. "Not that I would dislike it, but--"

"Go home."

"Yes'm."

As Kelial hobbled away, Lily noticed Tinae's look of surprise. "Hey! Where are you going?" she yelled, a sudden wind damping down much of the volume. Kelial half-turned, his smile still in place.


"Might go to Granny's just to see if she needs any protecting. I still agree with you, but what's the use of a wyvern rider without a wyvern, especially in open combat?" Turning away, he shrugged. "If I see another axe racing towards me ever again, it'll be a lifetime too soon." With those words, he left, using his lance to struggle his way through the shin-high snow.


"Gouterry," Lily said. The man, imposing and with his axe still resting on his shoulder, turned to face her. "Please help him to Grandma Yunice's. I'll prepare something to dull the pain once I'm finished here."

"You might not make it back," the woodsman replied. Lily had to smile at that; blunt statements from Gouterry were a lot easier to stomach than the same from Tinae.


"Neither might he, with all this snow." Dropping her smile, she said in complete seriousness, "The only thing you're used to chopping is wood. It's a lot different to hit a fellow human with a weapon like that. Kelial could tell you about that, I'm sure." She watched his expression shift from impassiveness to a curled lip of disgust. "Your son is waiting for you. All he has now is you. It's...it's a sad thing to live without one's parents." She swallowed tightly and tried not to think about anything more than the present moment.


Slowly, Gouterry lowered the weapon. "I'll trust you on that, Miss Lily." Without waiting for a response, he lumbered after Kelial.


"The same goes for you, Tinae," Lily said after a moment. There was a sudden shift in the temperament of the spirits, something that told her that she didn't have much time left if she wanted to confront the brigands outside the village like she was taught. "Killing a human is a lot different from killing an animal."

"I don't need a lecture from you!" Tinae shouted. "I won't leave! I can't--/won't/ let you go off by yourself just so you can get killed!"

A vague feeling thudded behind Lily's eyes. A headache/, she thought dully. /After all these years, she's finally driven me to a headache. "Your youngest is only five. Daughters need their mothers the most in those years," she said, closing her eyes. Wistfulness creeped over her as she continued with, "I know I certainly did."

"Stop it. I know what you're trying to do, so stop it." When Lily opened her eyes, she was greeted with an unusual sight: a weary-looking Tinae. The hunter had slung her bow alongside the quiver that hung from her hips. "You don't need to prove anything to us. We think you're just as good as your parents. We just want to help you."

Clenching her hands into tight fists, Lily turned away. "Rosliand, which direction?"

"Southeast."

"Thank you. Tinae..." With a sigh, Lily glanced behind her. The woman was standing stock-still, and it reminded Lily that Tinae was a good hunter for a reason. Time was slipping away, Lily knew this, but she hated the idea of leaving a bad situation open for infection. "I thank you for your willingness to help. Honestly, I do. But...my family has always protected this place. Even if many of my ancestors have died doing so, we'll continue." She tried to laugh, tried to keep things friendly and light. "After all, it's our fault all of you even bothered to come out here to live, so it's the least we can do."

"But you're the last one."

She would feel the need to point that out, Lily thought darkly. Returning her gaze to the entrance of the village, she ignored the nervous chattering of the spirits swirling around her. "I don't have any intention of dying today." And because the need to have the last word was heightened by the knowledge that she was wasting too much time, she began to walk. After a minute, she glanced to her left, where Rosliand was keeping in step. "What is it?" she asked in a weary tone. It was really too much trouble to trudge through the snow and be angry at the same time.


The former scout quirked a smile. "I'll do what I can to help."

"Oh, good." Lily knew that Rosliand's idea of help tended to be non-invasive. "We were lucky that the last delivery had some Light Runes. They should be in the general storeroom. I'll do my best to make sure we don't need them activated."

"I'll do what I can to help," Rosliand repeated, and then the only footsteps Lily could hear were her own.


With each step, fear and nervousness thudded in her chest at the same frantic rate as her heart...no, they were the same, weren't they? She wasn't sure, didn't want to think if it was a good or bad thing to feel this way, this much. Had she ever felt like her heart was going to force its way out of her chest when her parents were beside her? Even with them, going off to defend the village couldn't have felt like a trip up the mountain to collect herbs. Maybe it was natural to feel this way.


It wasn't just because she was alone.


But I have to do this by myself/, she argued in the depths of her mind. /I've done this before. I've proven myself to my parents. I've done this for years. My parents were confident in my skill. I can't let anyone else get hurt. If it's just me... She took a deep breath and let it out in one shuddering exhalation.


There's no use thinking like this/. /The only thing that matters is protecting the village and everyone in it. Mother and Father may not be here in body, but they are one with the spirits of ice and snow. As long as I am home, I will never be alone.

The wind picked up, its icy touch a caress against the bare skin of her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the mellow whistle of the wind. In it, she heard an affirmation of what she believed in, despite her doubts.


/This is my home/.


In the distance, she saw large shapes moving in a slow, troubled manner. She counted four unique shapes, and even when she stood still they continued to approach. As the odd figures neared, it seemed to her that human characteristics--an arm here, the movement of hair there--began to materialize until four humans were approaching her. Her heart continued to pound, determined to reach some sort of crescendo, but it was with anger as much as fear. She could appreciate that; it gave her something else to focus on.


Reaching towards her satchel, she pulled at its bulk until the strap allowed her to hold the bag against her chest.


The brigands had seen her too. Though they were so near now, the way they were wielding their weapons--two axes, two swords--suggested that they weren't in a hurry to attack just yet. She gripped the bag to her and, cramming her nervousness down so it wouldn't show up in her voice, stood as tall and proud as she was sure her honorable ancestors had. "Turn back," she said, hiding her surprise at the fact that her voice sounded strong and clear. "This isn't a place for you."

"Well, why don't you let us decide that for ourselves?" The brigand who asked that stepped forward, a mountain among his companions. "Get out of our way. It'd be a shame to hurt a pretty girl like you." There was a low murmur from the others just before a burst of laughter exploded from the others.


Lily narrowed her eyes. Lightly, she touched the side of her bag, using her innate magical senses to probe for the right tome. When she found it, she pursed her lips before saying, "I don't wish to hurt you. Turn back."

The axeman who seemed to be the head of the scouting party scoffed at her words and stepped forward. "Isn't that cute. Listen, this is Ilia. You don't survive by flinging around empty words."

"So, instead you survive by raiding villages that are barely able to sustain themselves?" she asked in derision. In her mind, ancient words flowed like water running down the mountain; a bit bumpy, with concepts that twisted and turned even as she grasped their meaning. With her free hand, she traced the runes of the three forms of anima against her thigh and hoped that the brigands would mistake the movements of her fingers for fidgeting.


"We do what we have to," the brigand retorted. He approached her with steady steps as he held the axe so that the flat of the blade rested against the large palm of his other hand. "You fight, or you die." His smile was a grim line in a stone-like face. "Sorry, girl."

With the final word of the incantation echoing throughout her body as a series of magic tremors, she nodded. "As am I." She took a step back just as she had been trained to do, let the magic gathered from the tome roll through her arm like thunder across the sky, and waved her free hand in a dismissive gesture.


A golden streak of lightning fell and struck the man dead.


Grimacing from the ache of her own mana loss, that much more because of the effort it took to internalize the process of casting magic instead of simply shouting the chant, she shrugged the satchel off of her so as to not let it hinder her movement. The Fire tome hidden in her dress was in her hands before the brigands could even react to their comrade's death, and she screamed words from a forgotten time. Even though she was firmly rooted in the normal level of perception, she could still see the streaks of energy before her that made up the spell sigil, which was shaped from her own understanding of the incantation. Without thinking, she directed some of the tome's energy into the vertices of the sigil, transmuting it into the essence of fire. With her left hand she pointed at the next nearest bandit and let the fireball fly. The screams he made after his weapon arm was struck by the spell, the roaring flames consuming flesh, wood and metal with the same blind hunger, made her shudder.


/This is magic/, she thought. When she was a child, she had thought that with a simple sort of awe. When she was old enough to accompany her parents, that awe had turned into dread. She felt neither of those now, but her feelings had become much more complex in her adulthood.


It can do so much. How did humans get such a power?

The other two bandits were already descending upon her as she cast a second spell to put the injured man out of his misery. She saw one swordsman when he swung the heavy-looking blade downward, as if to split her open from collarbone to hip, and she easily sidestepped the blow. Before she could counterattack, a grunt behind her alerted her to the presence of the other man just before he swung his sword upward, and she spun away just as she heard the ominous silk swish of metal slicing through air. Half-hopping, half-stumbling, she managed to move backwards through the snow until both bandits were in her line of vision. Even as she let the incantation flow past her lips, the swordsmen were already making their way to her. They dodged the streak of fire, letting it melt a furrow in the snow.


Too close! Lily screamed in her mind even as she began to cast another spell. Her concentration faltered as one man jumped towards her, sending his sword down in a cleaving motion. Turning aside, she was met with a blade thrust at her face. With a jerk that was more reflex than thought, she watched with wide eyes as the length of the sword zoomed just before her nose. Stumbling away, she cursed when she half-turned and caught the sight of the other swordsman at her back. She gripped her tome, using it to deflect the tip of the blade as it raced towards her side. The thick sound of metal tearing through the leather-bound cover nearly made her cringe.


Is that what it'll sound like when they finally hit me?


The thought made her double her efforts in dodging the two-pronged attack. She flung herself to the ground just as the brigands attempted to skewer her through her head and chest. The snow against her exposed face made her gasp from the sudden cold. Grabbing a handful of snow, she squeezed it once before rolling onto her back and flinging it at the nearest enemy. He stumbled back as the snowball smashed into his face.


My chance! she thought as she jumped up, leaning backwards to avoid the arc of the other bandit's sword before she centered herself. It had never felt so wonderful to say the words of power as it did now, and because of her heightened emotions the concepts were much easier to grasp. She could clearly see the wisps of magical essence now as she flung her casting hand up, then down in a sharp diagonal, then straight across, forming the elemental triangle that represented the three cornerstones of anima: fire, wind, and thunder. The sigil of her mind's conception of the spell words flared to life before her, and she had to wonder how the swordsman before her--who was readying another attack even now--would've reacted had he been a mage.


Fire, crimson and burnished orange and gold, flew above her at her hand's direction, then charged towards the man. He didn't have a chance as the firestorm engulfed him completely. When the magic burned itself out, his charred corpse fell to the ground and dispersed in a flurry of ashes. Other than that, Lily could make out a puddle of liquefied metal on the blackened earth; there was no snow where the man had stood. She felt a stab of pity at this violent end, though she knew that there was no other way.


A scream of rage alerted her to the last enemy, who had been distracted with the snow in his eyes. She stood firm, ready to cast another spell once she dodged his attack--


Ugly-sounding words spoken in a guttural language accosted her ears, and an energy blacker than soot formed under the swordsman just before it swallowed him up entirely. He survived, though he was nothing more than a shivering husk of a man whose pallor was comparable to the snow. Sickened, Lily quickly cast a spell to put the man out of his misery before spinning around. "Canas," she said, and she couldn't tell if the emotion trembling in her voice was that of relief or disgust. "I told you to stay inside."

He was breathing heavily, as if he had run the entire way from her house. Judging by his discomfort with snow, she believed it was the most likely outcome. "Yes, that...that is true. But I...I heard that you might be in trouble, and that you would need assistance..."

"Who told you that?" she asked, at once both irritated and oddly comforted. It couldn't have been Tinae/, she thought, /because she would've come here herself.

"A woman in a blue cloak," he answered promptly, looking a bit healthier than before. "She didn't give me her name." Lily arched an eyebrow as he began to look concerned. "Is she truly a villager, or was it, err, some sort of trap?"

She couldn't help but laugh at the question. "Don't you think it's a little backwards to think of that after you've come here?" After a moment, he began to chuckle, although to her eyes it looked a bit forced. Shaking her head, she glanced down at the tome in her right hand and examined the jagged cut on the back cover. "Anyway, reinforcements will be soon arriving. Rosliand, the woman who approached you, is very good with scouting work. I don't know why she would send you here, but it's probably too late for you to go back." Lily gave him an appraising look; he looked a bit better, but if she had a choice she would rather have him in a safer place. "Besides, you're too stubborn to go back, aren't you?"

"I...well, some have told me that I can be a bit, ah, adamant when seeking a resolution or goal--"

"Obstinate, I think."

"Forgive me. Is it really so bad?" he asked, having the grace to look sheepish.


Smiling, Lily shook her head. "Well, it's a bit endearing to see you try to lug a barrel around, but this is something else entirely." She tapped her tome and considered. "I need to know right now if you're able to do this. I won't risk you."

He adjusted his monocle before giving her a determined look that, in her opinion, fit him well. "I assure you, although I consider myself a scholar at heart, you will not have to worry about me."

"...That's a good answer," she found herself saying, although she still had some doubts. He looked fine, but she had enough experience in dealing with people at their sickest to know that he was hiding his weariness very well. It was in the way he clutched his Flux tome, as if he was willing himself to look strong. "But Canas, let me worry about you, just a bit. You're a friend, after all."

His serious expression dropped in favor of a broad smile. It amazed her how he could smile so kindly and without reservation even as he knew that a new battle was soon to start. "Thank you, Lily. Naturally, I feel the same way."

"Good to hear," she said, turning away to stare at the vast emptiness that yawned before the village. If she squinted, she could just about make out dark shapes in the distance. "I'll weaken them, and you finish them off. That's easy enough, right?" She turned around to see if he had any objections to her plan.


"Yes," he said, but she could see that he still looked a little off. It didn't worry her so much now, if only because she didn't mind the idea of protecting him if he needed it.


If he needed to be protected, it only meant that she wouldn't have to see that hideous magic again.


-0-


Hah...hah...hah...


It was tiring. He could see now why his brothers had ended up the way they were. It stung inside like mosquitos, and he had to wonder if that was how elder magic took its share of his mana.


Maybe it was more than just his magic, now.


Hah...hah...hah...


Maybe his mother was right. He had the talent, but not the willingness to use it. Certainly, he'd tried his hardest to avoid any situation that would require it. But he had to agree with that odd woman; Lily was vital to Corinth. Even if she couldn't see it, she needed someone to at least watch her back, even if now she danced through the horde of bandits like the fireflies that gathered around the marshes of Thria at dusk.


She was his friend, so he...he had to stay strong...he had to...not submit...


Hah...hah.../hahn.../


-0-


All in all, Lily decided, the battle was going well.


It wasn't as easy as it was before, when her parents could support her in body as well as spirit. Once the battle became too much for her, they would fully step in to take care of their enemies. The battlefield would be lit up with lightning, her mother's affinity and favorite tome, while fire would scorch any bandit left standing. Her father was always a bit strange that way, preferring to settle for the weakest anima tome in order to work on perfecting his aim. This was true even last year, and it only made her more aware of the monumental changes that could occur in just one year.


It was different with Canas. His discomfort in the snow was obvious, and the concepts of his tome seemed to be more difficult to grasp; he took far too long to cast each spell. Also, he wasn't quite as strong as she would've thought him to be; for someone who had been training in dark magic since late adolescence, his casting seemed a bit...amateurish. She had taken to darting in-between the brigands, distracting them long enough for him to attack.


She snuck a peek at him while she weaved through the bandits, and was disturbed to see that he looked awful. He had barely moved from his starting point, and yet he was panting as if he had been running up and down Mount Athene. The grimace on his face made him look as if he were going through his death throes. She was about to call out to him, to tell him to stop fighting and head back to the village, but she was then distracted by an axe thrown at her head and ducked down to dodge that. The spray of blood that drenched her as the hand axe collided into the swordsman behind her was equally distracting. Somewhere between casting a spell and spinning away from another attacker she found the time to take another look at him.


At that moment, he keeled over.


"Canas!" she screamed, scrambling away from the knot of the battle to race to his side. It was when she felt the odd bulge of magic pulse from Canas' writhing body that she decided to back away. An abyss of pure essence opened up underneath him, seeping outward like black blood. She noticed that the living brigands, five in number, didn't seem to see the leak of magic; they saw weak prey and chose to go after him. As each one stepped onto the spreading essence, they froze. Through the clump of bandits, a trembling Lily watched as Canas, head bowed as he knelt in the center of darkness, began to clutch his head as he mumbled words in that same ugly language that he used to say his incantations.


The spirits were screaming long, frightful shrieks of madness just as Lily felt her hold on reality slip between her fingers like salt. One by one, each brigand fell over, their bodies twitching like something was nudging at them over and over again. Canas was still speaking, his voice a hollow monotone that seemed to pour out of his body like an endless pitcher filled with grime and gravel. There was more magic clogging up the air now, and Lily couldn't resist its pull. Before she closed her eyes, it was a normal Ilian morning.


When she opened them again, she Saw what dark magic truly looked from the inside.


Wolves, starved and desperate beasts with the color and consistency of shadows, tore into the bodies of the brigands with a hunger that was beyond need. With each snap from their massive jaws, they ravaged the bodies. Lily stood, mesmerized by the white splatter that flew every time the wolves ripped into their prey.


Spirits...that's...that's...oh... Slowly, Lily raised her hands to her face. Those are souls.


The magic is devouring their souls.


Numbly, she looked over at Canas. He was still in the same position, still mumbling disgusting-sounding words. She could See the color of the personal magic that surrounded his body; dusky purple with an odd silver thread weaving through it, reminding her of some of her failed knitting projects. Does that mean that he's...possessed by the darkness? she wondered to herself. He really was too kind to control such malevolent energies.

At the blink of an eye, she stopped perceiving the energies that were only visible to those who used magic. Such a passive, easy skill, a requirement in understanding the forces they wielded through the catalyst that was the tomes, but Lily knew that it was now tainted for her.


Dark magic...it either corrupts what it touches, or it consumes them entirely. There's no way that someone could use it and come out unscathed. And I let him stay with me to fight...how could I do that to a friend? Awash in a wave of sorrow, it was all she could do to clutch her tome.


Oh, Canas, I'm so sorry. You were so kind to me. Let me repay you now, in the only way I can.


Each step hurt in every way regret and sorrow were wont to do; her chest ached as a thick clot of emotion grew in her throat. The dark blotch of magic seemed to roll away from her as she walked towards him, and she figured that meant he had already been taken over. Soon he would rise, nothing more than a shell controlled by pure darkness. Every shaman and druid lost something from their use of the dark magics, she had read; a soul was nothing more than the ultimate prize for it. And now, Canas' body would be nothing more than a vessel for destruction, and her village was so close...


There was only one thing she could do now.


She stood over his prone form and opened her tome. Her nerves were not steel forged from endless battle; it was too hard to concentrate on just reciting the words from memory when she had to face what she was about to do. She took a deep breath and tried to look at the book instead of him.


Something clenched in her chest with a clawed hand when Canas raised his head and looked up at her. His monocle had fallen from his face, and without it he looked so young, so defenseless, so innocent that her already-weak resolve completely melted. Something of a smile touched the corners of his lips as he said, "Ah...Li--" and then he stopped and she saw that his gaze had shifted from her face to the open tome in her hands.


She didn't know what to do. He looked normal once again, so wonderfully normal that she wanted to take him home and feed him and give him a book to read, but the images of what his magic did were seared into her mind. Indecision gripped her, keeping a wave of relief at bay while holding off other, darker feelings. /If he had turned to anima instead of dark magic, we wouldn't be in this situation/, she thought, and it was the only truth she knew at the moment.


"Canas," she breathed, overwhelmed by her warring emotions, "you're a fool."

"Ah..." and it was all he really needed to say to convince Lily that he was truly himself once again. Innocent looks could be faked, she had watched over enough children to know that, but the response was intrinsically him. "I would not, err, disagree with that."

Then why are you using that magic! she wanted to scream at him. It's evil, I believe it's evil and I'm not even an Eliminean! Instead, she sighed. As it was, this was the best outcome, and she would accept that. Tucking her tome back inside the pocket of her dress, she looked around for her satchel of supplies. Once she recovered that, she approached him again. "Let's go home," she told him, though she wouldn't have blamed him if he didn't want to.


She would've killed him. She could see in his eyes that he understood that much.


"Lily, you would...?" he started to ask. He still hadn't replaced his monocle, and it hung off the collar of his coat. Without it, he looked lost, no more knowledgeable about the whys and wherefores of the world than herself. Pity swept over her; she didn't know anything either, so she could understand. She smiled, one of those tiny, tight smiles she employed when dealing with a patient, and waited. There were no words about wanting him to not catch a cold, or any other rationalization that would make it sound as if she was only doing it for his sake.


He was a friend, after all.


Eventually, he stood up, and in complete silence they returned to her house.


-to be continued...-