by Rosie Scott
I held our stare and replied, “Ditto.”
Kenady laughed low like he found me pathetic, but he said nothing else. He wandered over to the air group to be among peers who accepted his nonsense without question. I could tell I'd intimidated him, even just a bit.
Two dual casters and a healer, Ms. Ply had announced. Kai could wield fire and air, and Kenady learned earth and life. Unbeknownst to the others, this class had three dual casters, and my abilities of wielding both of the rarest elements transcended most. Despite Sera's awful introduction and my obnoxious peers, my patience with it all rewarded me with success after success. For the first time in my life, I felt truly lucky.
Five
The rat rocked back on its haunches and lifted its front end into the air, sniffing toward me as if sensing the food I held in my hand. Over the past few days, the corpse had further decomposed. Its internal acids and oils leaked out onto my closet floor until it was little more than a husk of dried flesh over knobs of bone. As it waited to see what I had, it gazed at me with the hollowed stare of only one eye. The other had been missing for two days now. I wasn't an expert in rodent anatomy, so I didn't know if it decomposed or served as a snack to other vermin.
I kept the sickly sweet stench of decomposition at bay by keeping my window cracked at all times even if I left. My room was situated on the university's fourth floor, so getting caught by someone who smelled it or glanced in from the outside would only happen if one of the Twelve griffon riders ascended nearby. That was unlikely. I hadn't seen the Twelve utilized since I'd first entered Sera with the dwarven trader almost three years ago. They were used more often than that, of course, but it clearly was a rare event to witness their take-off.
The aroma of death bothered me at first. Not because it disgusted me, but because it bewildered me. One expects death to smell as rank as its subject matter, but I found it smelled oddly sweet before degrading into a mix of various gasses. The ever-evolving stench of decomposition fascinated me because I sought to understand the anatomical processes behind it all. It seemed an interest in necromancy spurred intrigue in other matters.
My parents had often teased me in Thornwell that I needed to find something of interest other than fishing. I hadn't written to them about my discovery of necromancy; while I knew in my heart they wouldn't disown me for delving into the forbidden, I couldn't trust giving them such information other than in person. During my time in Sera, my parents hadn't visited once. They'd expressed a deep desire to in their letters, but it was financially infeasible. Now that I'd learned life magic, the strain on them to save more gold for life magic and surgical training was harsh. They wouldn't know about my life magic abilities until late this year, for I wouldn't send my letters out until Red Moon and it would take a season for someone to deliver them. It had been over a year since I'd received any mail from them, so I assumed they were busy with work. I hoped that the good news of my magical abilities and my budding friendship with Kai would make them happy.
I sat down on the floor before the rat. It sniffed toward a broken piece of cracker in my hand. I'd saved it from dinner the night before because I wanted to see how the undead treated food.
“Do you smell that?” I asked, watching its reaction to my hand. It still stood on its haunches as if wanting to reach up toward my hand. As I brought the food down, its gaze followed the movement. I tossed the cracker on the ground before it, and the rat didn't notice. It still eyed my hand.
“Ah. You're following my focus,” I murmured. I moved my gaze to the piece of cracker, willing the rat to follow my lead. It did so, sniffing at the food before grasping at it with cold hands. It lifted the cracker, but its decomposing fingers lost their grip. The food dropped. It picked it up again, eager to do my bidding.
“What do you plan to do with that cracker, little guy?” I inquired, twisting my lips to the side as I pondered. “You won't eat it. That makes sense. I know you would fight, but...” I stared at the cracker. “With that?”
The rat twitched its nose. The movement dislodged a remaining whisker from degrading flesh, and it fell to the floor.
I glanced over to the pair of boots that sat near my door. I leaned back to grab one. I put the boot between the rat and me and projected a feeling of hostility onto it.
The rat lurched forward with a sputtering hiss, grasping onto the toe of the shoe before spreading its razor-sharp incisors. The sudden reaction caught me off-guard, and I grabbed the boot to save it. The corpse's grasp was so tight onto its target that it came with, its shriveled body hanging from the shoe until I shook it.
Crack! The rat landed on its side, the weight of its body landing on one leg and breaking the bone. I quickly realized my mistake and simply pulled my focus away from the boot. Even when I set the shoe down, the rat didn't bother it. Slowly coming to an understanding, I directed the rat to grab the cracker. When it did, I once more viewed the boot as an enemy. In seconds, the rat smashed the cracker to bits against the toe of the shoe until I willed it to stop.
“We're teaching each other many things, you and me,” I murmured, setting the boot back. “You've learned today that crackers don't make good weapons. But I've learned that you thirst for battle regardless. If I tell you to use something as a weapon, you'll do it.”
The rat put all four feet on the ground and sniffed the floor. It waddled over when I willed it to, and I reached out, attempting to heal its broken leg with life magic. When nothing happened, I understood why. Dead bodies could not heal. But could I shield them?
“Sheel a phisica,” I recited. When an egg-shaped life magic shield surrounded the tiny corpse, I smiled. “So you're just like any other soldier,” I told the rat, who appeared as interested to hear that as anything else. “The only difference is that you lack a working brain.”
I glanced up at the window when I noticed the soft periwinkle glow of morning cast across the opposite wall. I directed the rat to return to the closet before I dispelled it. The corpse fell in the same corner it died in, and I secured the door before leaving for class.
Nothing about this class was supposed to be special. As I sat in my usual seat in the back of the classroom and waited for Kai to arrive, I had no idea that history would be made this day and set off a series of events that would drastically change the world and the way it viewed magic.
Murmuring sounded outside the door again as Terran dropped Kai off for class. As usual, I said nothing and averted my eyes as she walked in. Her continued insistence on seeking friendship with me baffled me. Kai was confident, beautiful, and talented, yet she sought to befriend the worst outcast in the university. I fully expected her to realize her terrible judgment and stop seeking me out.
Kai glanced at the other students who whispered and gossiped at her arrival, noticing their jealousy and distaste. A rush of sympathy flowed through me. I wasn't the only outcast here. Despite our drastically different upbringings, Kai felt just as isolated as I did.
She set down her books and supplies across from my pile of magical notes and went about preparing her inkwell and quill. I averted my eyes to the nearby window, feigning interest in slow-moving clouds.
Whoosh!
A gust of wind blew through all my notes. They separated and swirled through the air, ruining any semblance of the order I'd carefully kept them in. The scattering of the parchment over polished floors drew the attention of the class while the culprit and his friend burst into laughter one table over.
I set my jaw and left my seat to gather the papers. Anger heated my head as I tried to keep them in order, but I gave up after a few seconds and grabbed them randomly just to escape the glares of my peers.
“Your powers aren't to be used so needlessly,” Kai hissed at the air mage. After her chair screeched back, she joined me, squatting over the floor and rushing to pick up the papers nearest her.
“Or what, girly?” the bully sneered back. “You gonna tell daddy and get me sent back to Kilgor?”
“No, I'll
tell Ms. Ply about this so she makes it known you're not taking your studies seriously.” Kai glanced around to ensure all papers were gathered and handed the stack to me.
“Thanks,” I murmured, my voice almost breaking. I inwardly cursed at my awkwardness.
I put an arm protectively over my notes once I had them on the table again, but Kai and I didn't speak until Ms. Ply came in, late and disheveled as usual. She wasted little time in starting the lessons of the day.
“Does anyone know what would happen if you were to say a spell incorrectly?” Ms. Ply questioned. “Suppose you said, givara les fiers? Or even, creatius le life?”
Kai raised her hand, but she'd been called on earlier, so the professor pointed to another.
“Nothing,” said the student. “Nothing would happen.”
“Correct. To give fire is an incorrect statement as is create life. Even in necromancy, the spells are not stated as you creating life because you are not. You are using energy to reanimate the dead. Even if you have a corpse standing before you, it is not living, because it cannot. It is only existing and acting upon your will because you are commanding the energy animating it. Does this make sense?” A few students nodded as I pondered that prospect. Ms. Ply went on, “Now would be a good time to remind you all that if you see any student—or anyone, for that matter—using necromancy, please report it to your nearest professor or guard. Necromancers are enemies of Chairel and are often put to death.”
Put to death. The same people surrounding me would see me dead for an innocent interest. I marveled at that as Ms. Ply gave us an assignment to practice creating spells using words of the language we already knew.
“Cerin,” Kai spoke up, as the professor walked around the classroom to check up on the progress of the others. “Have you ever tried to wield another element?”
I stiffened, a pang of panic slicing through me. I connected Ms. Ply's warning about necromancers to Kai's sudden question and slowly looked up to meet her gaze, keeping mine as neutral as possible. “Why would I do that? I'm no dual caster like you.”
Kai noticed my distance but forged ahead anyway. “How would you know if you've never tried?”
Was it possible Kai had stopped by my dormitory and noticed the smell? I'd tried so hard to keep it at bay, and I no longer noticed it. But perhaps I was used to it. If Kai somehow knew I practiced necromancy in secrecy, wouldn't her tone of voice betray more than simple curiosity?
“Are you saying I have?” I asked, my voice colder than I would have liked it to be.
Kai frowned. “No. I'm sorry. I meant nothing by it.” She glanced down at her spell books and went on, “I just wonder what would happen if you tried, you know? Once you have designated elements, you're not supposed to branch out. But what if you did?”
Perhaps it was her incessant curiosity, nothing more. My heart calmed its racing and I replied, “I've heard nothing happens. You can attempt a spell of a different element, but it doesn't work. If you're a dual caster, anyway.” I thought of how easy it had been for me to learn life after death. “If you only cast one element and casting another works, well...I guess that's how you find out you're a dual caster.”
Kai relaxed and smiled. “Yeah, I guess so.”
There was that beautiful smile again. Wishing to keep it there, I pushed my spell book across the table toward her. “Do you want to try it? Let's see what happens.”
“Oh, so I get to be the guinea pig?” she teased.
I smirked. “I doubt it'll hurt you. It's life magic, after all.”
Kai flipped through a few pages until she found the first spell. “How will I know if it's working?”
“You'll feel a warmth,” I replied. “Put your hand to your skin, and you'll feel warmth from your hand and tingling from what it's touching.”
“Okay.” Kai put her right hand on her left arm and recited the simple spell. After a moment, she glanced up in shock. “It's working.”
I stared at her in disbelief. Surely, this was another joke of hers. No mage in the history of Arrayis had ever learned more than two elements. “It can't be,” I murmured. “You already know fire and air.”
Kai abruptly reached across the table and grabbed my hand. I stiffened at her sudden touch as she repeated the spell. My hand tingled with warmth from the magic mere seconds later, and I jerked away like she was dangerous.
“That's impossible,” I whispered, rubbing my hand.
“Then how am I doing it?” Kai asked, metallic eyes open wide.
I said nothing. Perhaps Kai had failed at wielding air. I'd seen her wield fire, but air was hard to see. Ms. Ply checked each air mage for accuracy, but maybe she'd gotten something wrong.
The professor came to our table a moment later to ask about our progress. Kai interrupted the question to ask, “Why can I wield life?”
Ms. Ply frowned and stared back at her before chuckling softly. “You can't, Kai. You wield fire and air.”
“I just used Cerin's spell,” Kai protested, motioning at my spell book.
Ms. Ply glanced over at the book. “Kai...it is impossible to wield more than two elements. You know this.”
Kai grabbed the professor's arm and recited the life spell once more. Ms. Ply jerked back and rambled, “I saw you wield fire and air yesterday.”
“I know,” Kai acknowledged. “I've done both. And I just wielded life.”
Ms. Ply hesitated before stuttering, “Then—then do this for me. Lift your palm like you will wield simple fire.” As Kai did as instructed, the professor went on, “Now repeat after me. Creatius la agua.”
Moments later, water collected over Kai's palm much like death energy had siphoned into mine not long ago. The whole class went silent with awe as we watched.
“Dispel it!” Ms. Ply exclaimed, and Kai broke the spell. The water splashed to the classroom floor. Baffled, the professor asked for her to repeat an earth spell. When the energy above Kai's palm consolidated into a ball of swirling dirt and minerals, Ms. Ply pointed at the student closest to the door. “You,” she blurted in a frightened, hushed tone. “Get the headmaster. Now!”
The girl scrambled out of her seat and hurried from the room. The class was eerily quiet as we waited for Sirius's arrival. Even Ms. Ply was at a loss for words. If Kai could truly wield all elements, she was a historical anomaly.
Sirius walked in with a close entourage minutes later. I recognized Bjorn and Terran, but the others were strangers. Kai looked hopeful as Ms. Ply relayed the situation to her father. Perhaps Kai felt her rarity would make him find merit in her.
Kai was tested once more for all five legal elements, and she succeeded with each one in front of her father. Sirius said nothing the entire time, though Terran and Bjorn seemed concerned.
“Kai is human,” Bjorn murmured to Sirius. “Wielding two elements is hard enough on the body. Even if she can wield them all...” he trailed off and met Kai's gaze. His own exuded love for her.
“I don't care, Bjorn,” Kai said desperately. “You know I was born for warfare. If I can wield all elements—”
“You were born for warfare, sister,” Terran conceded, “but if you wield all elements, you will die by warfare.”
Kai went silent, but she breathed hard with both desperation and discovery.
Sirius spoke at last. “This makes her the greatest asset of war that exists.” Beside him, Bjorn grimaced at the regent's cold detached tone, but Kai seemed hopeful that she'd finally won her father's favor. “Unfortunately, that means nothing when such power is granted to the inept.”
Kai's hopeful face fell, and mine heated with anger. A few students giggled at the open insult.
“Good gods, Sirius—” Bjorn protested with distaste.
Sirius held up a hand to quiet him. “End classes for today,” he announced. “The university will go on holiday until further notice. We will put Kai through extensive testing.” The regent pivoted on his heel and stalked toward the door.
“Should...” Kai sl
owly stood as her chair squeaked over the polished floor, watching her father's back as he left. “Father, should I come with you?”
Sirius didn't glance back as he hesitated near the door. “No. I have things to attend to. I'll send someone to fetch you. Terran, come with me. Bjorn, don't you have things to do?”
“Nothing that's more important than this,” Bjorn retorted, standing across the table at Kai's side.
Sirius finally turned back, his face shadowed with irritation. “We have five hundred new recruits who need weapons and armor—”
“And they'll get their damn weapons and armor,” Bjorn interrupted, his normally friendly eyes sharp with anger. “I'll work overnight if I have to.”
“Kai won't be going with you,” Sirius retorted.
“Don't concern yourself with Kai,” Bjorn spat. “You have things to attend to, as you said. Attend to them.”
Sirius's glare turned colder at his general's combativeness. “Did I not say class was dismissed? What are all of you still doing here?” All the students scrambled to gather their things and hurry out of the classroom. I was the last out. Just as I passed by the open doorway, Sirius hissed behind me, “Bjorn, I want you to see me in my office first thing tomorrow morning. Expect a dock in pay.”
For the second time in my life, I felt the overwhelming desire to kill someone.
*
Classes resumed days after the discovery of Kai's immense skill, but the anomaly herself didn't return. Kenady and the others picked up their incessant bullying with me as their only target, but I paid them no mind. I compared my situation to that of the heir and felt nothing but sympathy for her. My family came from poverty, but at least I had parents who loved me. I could not imagine struggling with alcoholism at fourteen because I couldn't measure up to my father's impossible expectations.
Kai finally came back to class a fortnight after the discovery, but she said little and exuded depression. Dark circles marred the skin beneath her stunning golden eyes, and when she plopped down in her seat, the resulting breeze smelled of alcohol.