Chương 14: Return

It's the wee hours of the morning before we reach the Korrien forests. The sun is just beginning to crest the horizon and spread its warmth across the continent. I can feel that energy in a way I've never noticed before. Like life shining down on me. But entering the trees, it makes patterns through the leaves instead. Glimpses into photosynthesis. Voices linger in my head, whispering at me, coaxing me. Until now, it's been easier to ignore them and focus on the aches in my body.

But as we pull closer to our destination, I realize the distractions aren't there anymore. A lot of my initial injuries have healed. If I close my eyes and feel inside me, through the paths that were agonizing but days ago, it's like I can hear a whooshing sound. Is that power? Is that magic? In a way, I'm terrified. Something so new to me that's has always been a part of me. Fear is best negated by strength. By overcoming your fear. Power allows this. Thus, reasonably, I must figure out how to get stronger.

And I need to do it fast. It takes few more hours before we make it to the Eastern Enclave. I use that time as wisely as possible. Learning to identify the voices in the air from the simple humming I've always heard. Noticing the tugs of power and resisting them consciously. Right now, it's all I can do. Lennick meets us as we enter the courtyard and dismount.

"You're late." There's a tension to his words, underlying every one of his movements. He's not just worried about the plant. We worried him. Odd for an order that specializes in death. Xan hands him the box wordlessly and I clear my throat.

"It's fine. It should still take to the transplant—at least it will if it was ever going to."

"I'm not doing this until you can help me." Lennick leans closer, peering at me. I know what he sees. I'm moving stiffly, and I didn't regain everything I lost even if I made good progress.

"I'll be there after we report to Aarron." Lennick's unspoken request that I tell him everything lingers in the air, but all he does is nod and head toward his lab. I'm oddly grateful for our weird understandings. The gods know I'm going to need all I can get to figure this out. Horses untacked and handed off to the stable master, Xan and I pat ourselves down as we make our way to Aarron's study. This is getting to be a route I know all too well.

As we round the corner to his office, Aarron is waiting in the open doorway, his arms crossed. I resist the urge to look at Xan, and I push down on the impulse to fidget. Our story isn't technically lies. Well, not from my perspective, anyway. We're just omitting the fact that I crushed at least eight people with the earth around us and sucked them into a living coffin. Nothing major.

"Explain" is all he says as he gives us a nod and precedes us into the room. I wish I could, is what I want to say, but instead I take a seat without saying a word. Despite the fact that I usually prefer to stand, I'm still fatigued.

"Did this ambush manage to not surprise you again?" Ah, so he's still salty about that. I guess I can see why. Can't test someone who can see you coming. I'm about to speak when Xan does.

"We weren't asleep yet." Not even I can tell they're lying. It makes me wonder how they lie so well.

"I may have dozed off, but it wasn't full sleep," I add, because I'd barely done that when they arrived. Aarron doesn't need to know I never sleep deeply when on assignment.

"You noticed the ambush straight away?" Aarron seems to be in light interrogation mode. Not that I can blame him. The ambush was highly suspect.

"Mostly." Xan purses their lips.

"They weren't the quietest." Truth. We knew quieter people.

"They were somewhat stealthy, but not like we're trained. Made a little too much noise. Too much movement." I swallow, remembering it uncomfortably. I've always had a stellar memory, and this is ingrained. No need for me to recollect it in sections. It's difficult to pretend to be nonchalant when I'm truly not. My nerves feel like they're on fire taking so many risks.

"The fact is—there were too many of them to be silent." Aarron focuses on me for a few moments, his eyes delving deep.

"You look relatively unharmed, if a little worn. How many were there?"

"Maybe ten?" Xan offers.

"No, more like a dozen," I interject right on their heels, correcting them. Smoothly enough. Xan shoots me a glare. Just as we'd discussed.

"I see you're keeping up your reputation of never actually paying attention, Xalin," Aarron quips.

"Let's let Taria recount, shall we?" Bingo. At least I could always count on being teacher's pet.

"We took out several of them initially until we were forced to face them in close-quarters combat. I didn't expect the poison. A miscalculation on my part." I shrug.

"But we did eventually emerge the victors." I only hope I'm being me enough for him to take it at face value. Aarron sighs.

"So you were poisoned?" The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Technically.

"Yes." I don't add at it wasn't regular poison. That the magic around me drained me. This time Aarron runs his fingers through his hair.

"Do you have any idea who these people were?" That's the tricky question.

"Not really. They said something about a sect or something?" Xan mumbles loud enough to be heard.

"Their clothing had a strange emblem on it. Looked familiar." I raise an eyebrow, not realizing they'd been going to divulge that particular piece of information. It's one I find difficult to recall—there was so much going on at the time. Especially with all the agonizing pain. The Prefect nods.

"Sketch the emblem out as best you can. I recall your sketching ability was always quite on point, Xalin." Xan nods.

"Will do, sir."

"Where was this again?" Aarron asks suddenly. Damn it. I'd been hoping he wasn't going ask. Xan offers an easy smile.

"A day out of Mirrati. Off the path." Aarron's attention turns to me, and he studies me for several seconds. So long that I want to squirm. I'm not sure how I refrain from snapping at him. Could be the rampant fatigue. Finally, he speaks.

"You need to go and see Lennick. I'm not sure what that poison did to you, but I'm sure he can help. Sometimes experience trumps talent." He turns his attention to the paperwork on his desk, clearly dismissing us.

It's the first time I've ever been nervous to walk into Lennick's office. Filled from floor to ceiling with books, one of the walls of his office is like a reading haven. From ancient texts that speak of the world and how it was centuries ago to modern research manuals. Volumes that hold the peak of alchemical study. There are even some diaries passed down through his family. No one would know that we've only been in this Sanctuary for a few weeks by coming to visit him. He always sets his books in pride of place.

And he's going to know what happened. Lennick is far too astute.

"Perfect!" he says and rushes to me, grabbing me by the shoulders in a moment of excitement. I wince and step back, trying to force a smile to my face.

"Taria?" Concern is there immediately. He didn't miss my reaction or my forced smile. Sometimes Lennick's perceptiveness feels dangerous.

"Let's get that plant thriving," I say instead of answering his unspoken questions.

"Fine. But after the atrium, you're talking to me." And there's that no-buts-allowed tone of his. Guess I'll need to soak up as much courage as I can in the atrium before we get to discussing me. Xan stays back in Lennick's office as we take the precious cargo through to the atrium. It's a greenhouse built into the side of the cliff, just under the spray of one of the waterfalls. The construction allows for the water droplets to act as close to a rainforest as we can manage.

Several strategically placed smoldering coal baskets allow for the humidity to climb inside of it.

"Do you really think we can get the Datura to flourish in here?" I ask, genuinely curious. Lennick shrugs.

"Theoretically, yes. Honestly, no clue." He stops in front of a large secondary enclosure where the soil has a darker tint to it, almost black. It's rich, almost fluffy, and I can feel it talking in my head, the words just out of reach. Whispers. Slivers of power, just beyond my comprehension. The Datura is close to wilting, and we can't let that happen.

Gently, I remove one of the blooms from its casing, coaxing it with my mind, pulling gently on the earth around us—the energy around us to keep it as healthy as possible. Just like I've done thousands of times before in my life. Only now it's different, because I know what it is I'm doing. Magic. It's loud in here. So many undercurrents and messages, tugging me in thirty different directions. It's so much more vibrant than it was before.

As I place the plant into its new home, I can feel the sigh of the earth touching the roots, of the petals regaining energy they'd lost. Everything around us is curious, clamoring for my attention. But I have to concentrate, block out all the distractions. No matter how much I might want to understand them. It's a precarious balance transplanting the Datura. Even if the soil is eager and willing. Especially once I ask it nicely. Please take care. Please let this plant thrive. Of course!

The reply is joyous, like it's been waiting for just such a task for a long time. Just a little more of a push, just willing it to live, for the roots to flourish. I can feel it move beneath my hands, twining, beginning its new life. Lennick raises an eyebrow at me and wordlessly holds the box out for me to work on the other transplants. Plants first. Interrogation later. Wise man. There's something else I'm noticing. This isn't exhausting me. It's not leaching my energy from me. Perhaps it's because magic? Power?

I'm manipulating remains with the plants. Right now, I'm just asking nature to take care of its own. That feels like it should be an important distinction. Finally, with the last one planted, I feel a wave of accomplishment. I stand up and dust myself off, finally making eye contact with Lennick.

"We need to talk."

"I thought you'd never ask," he says, flipping the lid closed and leading the way back into his office. Closing the door behind us, Lennick moves into his office, randomly grabbing books off his shelves. Xan is huddled in one of the smooshy floor chairs Lennick has. I don't think I've ever seen our alchemist close his door before. It's always open. Always welcoming. Clearing a space off his table, my mentor slams down three books in quick succession.

They're so old that the leather bindings are cracked, even with the obvious care that's been taken to keep them whole. The pages appear brittle and aren't straight cut like they are these days.

"First up," Lennick says, crossing his arms.

"Strip down. If I'm not mistaking it, and I'm definitely not, you have some bruising under your outer garments that needs help." I blink at him, and then over at Xan, but Lennick cuts me off.

"Taria, I'm not in the mood for this right now. You're injured. You flinched when I touched your shoulders. You're moving like you're tied to a stake." He levels his stare right at me. It's one of those looks you can't seem to break or escape.

"I have never taught anyone less susceptible to pain than you. Whatever you're hiding, has to be bad." I haven't had time to strip and check out the damage myself. I mean. I've seen the bruising on my torso. Part of me doesn't want to look in a mirror. That part of me doesn't want to admit that perhaps I am vulnerable. That maybe this magic is too much for me. Gingerly, I unbind my leather jacket. Usually fitting, it hangs looser now. The backlash trimmed me down where I didn't need to in the first place.

Velina will need to alter all my gear at this rate. The leather almost feels like it fused with my skin, so hard is it to peel off. I dislike the vulnerable feeling of standing in just my bindings. A collective gasp emits from Lennick and Xan.

"What did you do?" my mentor breathes out. Xan and I glance at each other, and they shrug exaggeratedly at me. My call? Fantastic.

"Taria. I'm not fooling around here. It's like a giant picked you up and squeezed you dry, yet somehow let you live. Barely." He's spot on with that summary. That's precisely how it felt too. I stumble against one of the stools, suddenly feeling my own weakness.

"That's eerily accurate." He frowns at me. Lennick is the one person I think might be able to help me sort this out. He's always had a similar affinity to plants. Maybe he has some magic too. Lennick holds up his hand.

"Wait. Let me get some salve—I'll do your arms and shoulders, and that'll help for now. But I have a feeling you'll need to apply the rest when you get a chance to remove the rest of your gear." Muttering under his breath, he goes to his personal stash.

"You're like a walking bruise." I've never seen him actually open his personal store before. It's in a large, glass tallboy that is always locked, about six feet in width. Not that I couldn't replicate everything in there and make it stronger. But it's a good idea to lock some of the more dangerous stuff away from Novices. Even now, he takes out two massive keys and motions to Xan.

"Twist at the same time with me." Xan scrambles up and takes one of the keys. They turn them on three and the doors open.

"I guess you usually do that yourself," I comment as Lennick rummages through all the bottle he has labeled.

"Yes, but it requires more stretching than I'm willing to do right now." When Lennick turns back to the table, his arms full of about seven different large bottles of creams, his brow has darkened.

"While I apply this, you'd better talk fast." He pours out some goop onto his hands.

"Talk fast?" Xan asks, and I can hear them audibly gulp.

"You wanted privacy, and I activated my privacy seal by closing the door. I want to know what did this, now, and no bullshit stories. I don't for a moment believe that you got close enough to people for this kind of damage and managed to win a fight." I've never heard Lennick sound so angry. A hiss escapes me involuntarily as he begins to slather me in salve. Xan looks between us and sighs. Lennick practically growls his next words.

"You have until I finish this to tell me everything. Don't make me regret choosing to close the damned door."