Chương 20: After the Storm

Lira woke up to heat. At first, she thought she had forgotten to deactivate the warm pocket spell before she went to bed, until she tried to take a breath and found herself wheezing instead. No, this heat was no spell; it was a suffocating, body-aching fever. For a moment, she did not move. She stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts slow to catch up. The events of the previous day came back in fragments: meditation, the library, and the wind. That's right, she had done it.

She had learned a spell without a primer, a spell she had composed all on her own. She shifted in her bed. Bed… She blinked slowly. This was not her alcove, nor was it the library… She didn't remember making it back to the dorms. A soft movement to her side drew her attention. Lira turned her head, and her vision blurred before settling. Tessa was sitting beside her. The girl held a damp cloth in her hands, and she gently pressed it against Lira's forehead.

Her expression was tight with worry, and her usual energy muted.

"You're awake," Tessa said quietly. Lira tried to speak, but her throat felt dry.

"What… happened?" She coughed before she could say more. Tessa was quick to give her some water, holding the cup to her lips and letting her take small sips. She let out a small breath of relief when Lira was able to drink without problems.

"Marco found you," she said.

"He was bringing more old books to the library. He said that he walked in and found you on the floor with every window open." Lira frowned faintly.

"He thought you were dead," Tessa added, her voice dropping.

"You were cold." The words settled slowly. Lira closed her eyes for a moment. In hindsight, that was stupid of her to expose herself to the elements like that.

"Lucky me… I am not dead," she murmured. Tessa gave a short, strained laugh.

"No. But you almost scared me to death." Lira let her head sink slightly into the pillow. Her body still felt weak, her thoughts dragging behind her.

"How long was I out?" she asked.

"You've been sleeping for most of the night," Tessa replied.

"You've got a fever. Celene said you're not to move for at least three days." This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Lira exhaled softly. She turned her gaze back to the ceiling.

"I overdid it," she said after a moment. Tessa did not answer, but the look she gave her was enough... and the younger girl didn't know the half of what Lira was up too. Lira let the silence settle as her mind began slowly piecing everything together. There were two probable causes why she had collapsed. The first was obvious. She had tried to control too much at once. The entire room, the full current of wind moving through the tower. It had been overwhelming, more than she could handle.

The second was less clear, but just as important. Her connection to wind was weak. She frowned slightly. She did not feel any particular kinship with wind. And if she was honest, neither did she felt close to fire and water. But at the very least, in those cases, the primers had been there to guide her in their use, like inking between the lines rather than painting from scratch. It wasn't the same for wind. This was just her gut feeling talking... she didn't have proof of any of that.

But she was already stumbling in the dark when it came to learning magic. Trusting her feelings was as valid as anything she could do at this point. Lira shifted slightly under the blanket, wincing as a dull ache spread through her body. Still… She had done something right. She had entered the trance without a primer, she had taken the words and given them powers, and she had imprinted them into a spell in her soul. That alone was cause for celebrations, despite her current discomfort.

Lira learned that she can be shameless when it come to seeking knowledge. So naturally, it was par for the course that when Tessa stepped out to fetch water, leaving Lira alone for a moment, the feverish girl raised her hand weakly and cast.

"Pika… Riad… Frushum." She spoke softly, barely above a whisper. She focused on something small this time. Just a single point instead of the whole room. A faint stirring brushed against her fingers. The air shifted, barely noticeable, but there. It worked, rotating slowly around her index finger. Lira lowered her hand immediately as a sharp throb of pain pulsed behind her eyes. Too soon. She closed her eyes again, breathing slowly. She needed to rest for now.

The next few days passed in a haze of fever and quiet recovery. Tessa rarely left her side for long, bringing food, water, and fresh clothes. She spoke less than usual, her concern still lingering beneath the surface, but her presence was steady. Celene visited on the second day. She stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, her expression caught somewhere between approval and irritation.

"I went to see the library," she said without preamble.

"It is cleaner than I have ever seen it." Lira managed a faint smile. Celene's expression hardened slightly.

"You nearly killed yourself."

"I got caught up doing work... And I forgot to eat," Lira lied quietly.

"Not only that, you need to pace yourself when doing labor-intensive work... you know like dusting." Lira couldn't help but smile at that. She thought she had been able to clear all that dust with physical work.... Not a chance. Well, at least now no one would be calling her out for slacking after that.

"Thank you. I will try to do better next time," she finally said.

"You are to rest," ordered Celene.

"No work for three days, at least." Lira nodded. She did not argue. Marco also came by to visit. The footman was tall and broad-shouldered, roughly around her age. Lira couldn't help but blush at the thought of him carrying her out of the library. He lingered awkwardly near the doorway at first, as if unsure whether he should be there at all. This was technically one of the maid dorm rooms, and men were not allowed in there, but Lira didn't care and waved him in.

"You gave me a fright," he admitted.

"I thought I was hauling a corpse for a moment." Lira winced slightly at the image.

"Thank you," she said, her voice sincere.

"For bringing me back." Marco nodded, looking relieved.

"Just… try not to make a habit of it." After that, he left quickly, as if uncomfortable with the attention. To Lira's surprise, even Maren came to visit once. The scribe's daughter didn't remember interacting with the pretty girl that much, only a short conversation here and there. Still, the girl was kind and probably treated everyone nicely, so of course, she would check on a sick colleague. That kind of attitude, plus the eyeliner around her eyes, was probably why she was always getting into trouble with Hesta.

Lira rested. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking of magic, of wind, of water, of fire, but also of freedom, power, and vengeance. She understood more now than she had before. The next spell she would craft would fit her more tightly than this one. It would be a spell only Lira could cast, something made for her.