Chương 44: Chapter Forty-One

I looked at Mom in confusion as we sat in my room at the academy. Normally, this wouldn't be allowed, but the headmaster gave his permission due to the circumstances. Those circumstances being that I almost died following his instructions in his office. Okay, maybe not. But I could have. And my Mom capitalized on that so we could talk, much to both Dad and my confusion. Narith was playing her role. I noticed she was a lot more formal when my parents were in the room.

"What do you mean your healing didn't work? You were healing me, and I felt better," I stated, wondering. I still felt tired, and sore. But it was manageable. It felt like when I was living alone, but not as bad actually.

"Think. Was that my healing? Or was it when you pulled the mana you expelled back into yourself?" I had to think about that. I remembered waking up with her hands glowing, but I didn't start feeling better immediately. In fact, I didn't remember feeling any type of restorative magic at all. And everyone who had ever had to drink even the lowest grade healing potion would recognize that itchy feeling.

"When I pulled my mana back into myself." Mom nodded, looking as though I had confirmed something.

"What does it mean?" Dad was looking deep in thought and stopped paying attention to Boyan, who made a dash for under the table, where he used the tablecloth draping over the side of the table to hide.

"I only have a theory. But I think you can check it by looking at your traits. Maybe," Mom said, tapping her lips. I widened my eyes at her and shook my head, asking for her to get on with it. Mom chuckled.

"I think your body is literally made out of mana," she stated, as Boyan giggled, having found something under the table that probably shouldn't have been there. I ignored him for now.

"If that is the case then healing magic and potions might not work on you." I scowled, thinking.

"I don't think I've used any of that until now... Wait. No, didn't you use healing magic on me while I was under the effects of that spell in Tenoth?" Mom was shaking her head.

"That was different. We weren't trying to heal your body, but protect your mind and expel an intrusion." I was frowning.

"I pricked my finger on a plant in a shop. You cast healing magic on me then."

"I did," Mom admitted.

"But, did I heal it, or did you regenerate enough mana to close the wound on your own?" she asked. I didn't have an answer for her. And I was so deep in thought that I didn't immediately notice when my teacup started moving on the table. Mom disappeared briefly and returned with a pouting Boyan in her lap.

"We should test this," Dad said, his hand drifting to a dagger he kept at his belt. My eyes went wide.

"You want to cut me?" I squeaked, my breathing growing frantic.

"Wait, wait. Let me look in my traits. Maybe I can find something that explains this." Dad nodded, and I sighed in relief.

"Do that. Then we will test to make sure we understand this aspect of you." I flinched and his expression looked apologetic.

"This is too important not to have a solid understanding of Lyra. It could be the difference between life and death. Yours specifically. So I won't be talked out of it." I blanched.

"Check your traits. I know it's taboo to talk about them to anyone, even family, but..." Mom nodded.

"This time I think we have to look past that." She looked truly pained at the notion.

"I will know one of my children's traits..." Her words were soft and filled with regret. I didn't get it. But, I hadn't lived as long as Mom. Not even a fraction. So the pain might be caused from past experiences. I was too distracted to ask. By the dagger on Dad's belt. That had grown two sizes since he last reached for it, and was slowly growing with my increased breathing. I closed my eyes to make the image go away and reached for my interface.

"Narith, please leave the room," Dad said. I could almost picture her curtsy as she quickly left the room.

"Okay, Lyra, you can tell us what you find." Mom murmured something I couldn't hear. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. It didn't take me long to find it. And when I did, I read it out loud.

"Mana Body. My mana capacity exceeds what a standard physical body can contain. My body has adapted, forming from compressed mana instead of purely physical matter," I read before opening my eyes.

"It's a racial trait." There was silence for several seconds before Dad finally asked, "How much mana do you have?" In a small voice. Mom moved to interject, but I already answered.

"Fifteen thousand and fifteen." The room went silent again.

"Well, a little less than that now. Closer to fourteen thousand. But that was the maximum."

"That's..."

"Not important," Mom said with a tone indicating what she said was final. Dad quickly shut up, nodding at her.

"Do you have a healing potion?" he asked, and she pulled out one of the potions I had made before leaving with them. The liquid had a cyan tinge, but none of the glow that had become commonplace with my healing potions.

"This should work." She eyed him.

"Unless you were planning on a deep wound." Dad looked offended.

"Sorry. I'm just..." He put a hand on her shoulder.

"I understand. I hate doing this." He turned to me, and I swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat.

"Do you want to do it or..." I offered him my hand before he could finish. There was no way I was going to cut myself. The thought... Actually the thought of intentionally hurting myself at all caused my stomach to knot up. I wouldn't be able to even... As I was thinking about it, Dad drew his dagger and made a quick slice in my forearm about three inches long. His knife was sharp. I didn't feel it at first.

"Ow. Ow. Ow," I muttered under my breath as my brain caught up to the damage.

"Drink the potion, Lyra," Mom demanded, handing me the now-opened bottle. I drank it. Nothing happened. No warmth. No itching as the wound healed. Just...

"Ow." My eyes closed and I tried to keep the tears out of them.

"How much mana do you have now, Lyra?" Dad asked, and I quickly looked at my sheet.

"About twenty less than when I looked last time." My voice came out as a whine. Mom and Dad shared a look, nodding at each other. My cyan blood had covered my arm and was now dripping onto the floor. Mom put her hand on me, and it glowed with her orange mana. Again, nothing happened. She withdrew her hand and pulled out another potion, uncorking it.

"This is a mana potion. It should restore one hundred and fifty mana. Enough to provide a large assistance to demons and completely fill elves' capacity. Try it." She handed me the potion and I downed it quickly. It tasted of berries, unlike the healing potion that had a wintergreen taste. As soon as the potion touched my tongue, I felt my arm itch. By the time I had drunk the potion, my arm was healed without so much as a scratch. Mom and Dad were staring at my arm. I was too. My body really was made out of mana.

That meant no one could help me heal. The only way I could heal would be with mana potions. Wait, does that mean I can't be poisoned? Or get sick? Sickness doesn't affect mana, does it? My head was spinning with questions, and so apparently were my parents.

"If her body is made of mana, then my spells..." Mom blanched.

"We need to protect her from null magic. It could drain her of her mana. And if she uses all her mana..." Mom's voice grew serious.

"Lyra, never use all your mana. In fact, don't even use a fraction of it. Three hundred. You can use three hundred for spells. That is more than enough. That's more than most demons have. You will not put your life at risk for silly effects, do you understand me?" Mom's tone was both strict and panicky. I could only nod.

"Good. We'll see about getting you protection against null magic. That's going to be a glaring weakness since it can literally erase mana. Luckily, it's rather rare. I don't know anyone other than your dad that practices it." Dad was shaking his head.

"Rare, but not unheard of. And this isn't a good time to look for rare magical items, Mandy. After the loan to the king..."

"I will not let this weakness go unaddressed. Especially with the war growing." Mom and Dad were about to get into an argument. I could see it brewing. And it was because of me. On multiple levels.

"I can pay for it," I said softly, cutting into their growing conversation. Both of them looked at me.

"I'm the reason the king had to borrow from you, and I'm the one that needs it. So if I have enough..." Mom reached over and hugged me.

"Of course you do, sweetie. More than enough. Thank you. I know this isn't how you wanted to spend your money..." I didn't know how to even begin to think about spending that money. I couldn't even spend the money they sent me on a monthly basis, let alone the sum in my bank.

"... but it really is necessary," she finished. I nodded. I didn't know anything about the war, other than it seemed to have started because of me. Again, I was causing huge problems for my family. I was surprised they didn't want to send me back to Hindor. The thought caused a pain in my chest, and I placed my hand there, closing my eyes, waiting for it to pass. Mom mistook the gesture.

"Don't worry, Lyra. We'll find something to protect you," Mom said, squeezing me. How could I tell her that wasn't what I was worried about? How could I tell her that she would be better just putting me back where she found me?

"In the meantime, make some mana potions," Dad said.

"It might be in your book, if not go to the library and find it. Make some for you to carry, your friends, and Narith. Tell them to use it on you if you're injured and too hurt to drink it yourself." I nodded. A small amount of joy took root at the idea of brewing a new potion. If only I didn't still have this gaping maw caused by all the trouble I had caused.

"We'll get you a pouch that's enchanted to carry potions safely." I opened my mouth, but Mom shushed me.

"If you're buying your protection item, we're buying this. No questions." I felt my smile was rather fragile as I looked at them. My family. And wondered when they would have had enough of me.