Chương 52: Chapter 51: An Apprentice, At Last

Inside, the kitchen light was on over the sink, the house warm. I put the kettle on. Bill dropped onto the couch like a man who'd been awake too long, and Susanoo flopped down beside him with a groan. Ella came down the hall quietly, drew her mug from the cupboard, and folded herself into her chair. She drew her knees up and watched us from there without saying a word. I went to the shelf and retrieved the catalyst I'd abandoned there a few weeks ago. Bill took it.

His wrist shifted slightly as the weight registered, lighter than he'd expected. The red core warmed against his palm.

"That's it?"

"That's the whole thing." He turned the card over once, then looked at me.

"And I hold this for three days."

"Three days. And don't let go. Not even for a second. Hold onto it like your life depends on it." He nodded and settled back into the couch, the catalyst already feeling less like an object in his hand and more like something he was carrying for a purpose. I went back to the kitchen, poured the boiled water into the mugs, and brought them over. The three of us sat there for a while before Ella finally reached for the mouse, turned on the PC, and put on an episode of Frieren. Bill looked at the screen.

Then at the catalyst. Then back at the screen. The days that followed had a shape I remembered. Mornings, I'd check on Bill — still on the couch, his hands cupped around the catalyst, not gripping it, just holding it. His breathing was slow, his eyes half-lidded or shut, and whatever was playing on the screen changed whenever Ella decided he'd had enough of one story. She kept the content going — light stuff, the kind of stories that didn't demand much attention.

She'd explained the reasoning to me once, and I'd laughed at her for it. Now I knew better. Bill had it easy. When I'd gone through saturation for the first time, I'd spent three days trying to sit still and focus on every strange sensation in my body. Bill had spent three days watching anime with a catalyst in his hand while Ella made sure he never ran out of something stupid to watch. I was almost jealous. So I found other ways to kill the time. I worked on the vault accounts in my notebook.

The clear gems we'd set aside. The gold coins and the gold cubes we'd brought home. Estimates of their weight, rough counts, and whatever else I could record without a proper scale. It wasn't much of an accounting yet. Mostly estimates, notes, and questions for later. But there was another reason I kept myself busy. I was ready. My body had been ready for weeks. The mana in my chest had reached the point where there was nowhere left for it to go without another circle to contain it. I could carve the third.

I just hadn't done it yet. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. Bill had spent three days waiting for his first. I could spend a little longer waiting for my third. Once I started, I'd be out of commission for hours. Probably unconscious for at least part of it, and completely useless to anyone until it was done. I wasn't going to disappear into my own engraving the moment he finally reached the point where he needed someone nearby.

So I stayed. On the third evening. He looked up from the screen.

"I'm full." I smiled.

"Good."

"So this is it."

"This is it." He'd had three days to ask questions. Three days to hear me explain what I could remember, and Ella correct what I couldn't. There wasn't much left to say. Bill looked down at the catalyst in his hand.

"So... now?"

"Now." He shifted on the couch, pushing Susanoo gently aside before stretching out along the cushions.

"This is going to work?"

"It worked for me." He took a deep breath and settled back. Ella sat beside him. I pulled a chair over and sat on the other side of the couch. Bill looked between us.

"Any last advice?" I thought about it.

"Take your time." He nodded. Ella and I both gave him a small nod a the same time. Bill closed his eyes. His breathing slowed. Then the mana began to move. I didn't need to see the mana to know what he was doing. I'd done it twice myself. The pattern had to be held precisely, copied from the catalyst and carried inward without losing its shape. For a while, nothing happened. Then Bill's breathing hitched. His fingers tightened around the catalyst. The first tremor ran through his arm. The pain had arrived.

I knew that pain. But there was nothing I or Ella could do to take it away.

"Breathe," I said quietly. His jaw clenched. He breathed. The pattern moved. For one awful second, the pattern wavered. Bill went rigid. Then he steadied himself. Again. Maintain the shape. Keep going. Ella hadn't moved. She stayed beside him, one hand resting on the floor near his shoulder without touching him. The mana was his now. There was nothing either of us could do except stay. The minutes stretched. Then the pain deepened. Bill's whole body tensed. A tight sound escaped through his teeth.

But he didn't cry out. He kept going. The circle slowly settled into place. I could feel the change when it happened. The chaotic pressure inside him became something structured. Something permanent. Bill's eyes opened. They found me first. Then Ella. His voice came out barely above a whisper.

"Did I..."

"Yeah." I smiled.

"You did." He closed his eyes again. A weak laugh escaped him. Then he winced. Then laughed again. I grabbed his arm and helped him sit up just as Susanoo apparently decided that the appropriate response to witnessing a magical near-death experience was to lick Bill's entire face. Bill pushed him away weakly.

"Get off me." Susanoo ignored him. I laughed. For a minute, the living room was nothing but three exhausted people, one extremely enthusiastic dog, and the quiet relief of knowing that we'd crossed another line together. I carved mine the next morning. Alone in my room, with the door left open a crack so I could hear the house beyond it. The furnace. The kitchen The television playing quietly in the living room. The third time was easier than the second, not to mention the first. Not painless. Never painless.

But easier. The circle quickly settled into my chest. The new ring began to spin against the other two, patient and precise. That day, we loaded the carriage. Two cubes of gold and a bag of coins, wrapped and tucked deep into Bill's bag. A small pouch of the ordinary stones — clear, yellow, blue — enough to test the market. We drove through the thin scrub and the long shadows, the mountain cold at our backs. The facility was lit when we arrived. Light-spheres glowed in the corridors.

The sweepers crossed the court with the same quiet purpose they always had. Ella walked to the panel in the central court and laid her hand against it. The familiar ripple formed. And opened. A vertical tear appeared over the stairs, with the empty lot on the other side. The hole where my house used to be. Bill stood at the bottom of the unfinished steps, bag over one shoulder, Susanoo's leash around his wrist. He stared through the opening for a moment.

"So this is where I walk out."

"This is where you walk out." He looked at me for a long moment. Then he stepped forward and grabbed me in a fierce, one-armed hug. I hugged him back. He pulled back and wiped his eyes on the back of my sleeve. Then he gave Ella a two-fingered salute. She returned it with the faintest smile. Bill took the steps two at a time. For a heartbeat, he was only a silhouette against the darkness on the other side, one hand raised in a wave while Susanoo tugged impatiently toward home.

"See you soon, Bill." The gate closed.