To Fly the Soaring Tides

“What’s stopping me from running away and selling all this stuff?” the thief asked the sorcerer.

A block of metal suspended before Cira slammed against a blessed silver ingot, quickly forming it, but she paused to answer the girl, “Nothing at all. I’m going to fix this island’s problems and disappear immediately. I’m sure there will be other people who would be quite upset at the girl that sabotaged the cure out of greed, however. Even the smuggler’s on board, look at him.”

He stood on the open floor of the forge test stabbing his spear, working on his form. Lomp, surprisingly was giving him tips. He had requested a polearm as well, but one with two prongs.

Kate sputtered and waved her arms in offense, “Don’t compare me to that man! Sabotage the cure? That’s a bit much, don’t you think? What difference does it make if one person leaves?”

Cira judged her, “There is a little boy in the infirmary whose bones are twisting out of his arm. Another man in Uru whose ribcage is trying to escape. I’m sure you’ve seen the others. If you live on this island you’re infected too, that’s just how it is. You and everyone that lives here needs the cure once a year for three years. Do whatever you want, but wait until I leave, if you would.”

The hammer struck silver upon the anvil again. Hammers were really made for hands though, so it was more of a cylinder with a flat point that she slammed into the metal repeatedly.

Geomancy was fine for making items on the fly, but if you wanted a weapon to last, you just couldn’t beat forging it. Cira was no simple blacksmith, however, for she could freely move all the materials and tools necessary at her will. What she lacked in skill she almost made up for with speed and consistency.

One could sell her weapons in a shop, and they’d fetch a decent price, but they were no masterworks. Her amateur technique would be apparent to any blacksmith. That said, any blacksmith who ever witnessed her workflow of watching stuff float around until a sword occured burned with envy.

“Tch.” Kate glared at her, “Of course you don’t care, you just want to finish your job and get as far away from this rock as possible.”

“What a stupid thing to say.” She had worked the silver down flat with a curve in it, “If I didn’t care, you would never have met me. The question is if you care.”

Now she formed the edge which stretched all around except a handhold on the back. The thief had requested a specific ranged weapon, and Cira happily obliged. She remembered a wooden boomerang her father made her as a toy long ago, so this was something of a passion project, and she didn’t appreciate getting berated by the recipient.

While Cira started putting enchantments on the weapon, Nanri had Rosalie as a helper and was hard at work replicating the garments in everybody’s sizes. She was working on all the enchantments with a grin on her face as she kept glancing at her new wand on the table. Cira couldn’t spend a lot of time on her because she wasn’t really part of the exorcism team but found herself wanting to appease the witch anyway. She crafted a short wand of blessed silver, and destroyed another few glyphs twisting a little orichalcum swirl around it because she thought it would look nice.

“Annnd it’s done. I was going to make it prettier, but you were quite rude.” Steam rose off the curved blade as she grabbed it off the anvil, it was about the size of her forearm. The weapon was bare save for a hole on either side for balance and various magic circles, “I present to you, the Banshee Beheading Boomerang. Don’t cut yourself.” She handed it to the girl who took it in her hands carefully.

“And what about a sheath? I can’t just carry it around all day.” She complained.

“My, you are greedy, aren’t you?” Cira judged her further, “Perhaps I was wrong about you… You’ll get your sheath later.”

“What’s that supposed to mean—” Cira had walked away at that point, back to the polearm duo. Chip, who had requested an axe, joined them at some point.

She rounded them up and helped Nanri put her work in baskets then made everyone follow her back into the hall, “Nanri, lead them towards the archive. I need to go change and I’ll meet you there.”

She was excited to wear this outfit, even if it was a tad overkill. It had been years since Cira put it on and she wanted to know if it still fit. The dress ran down to her knees and was a little tight, but not uncomfortable. Many layers of thin gray fabric were woven together as if she were wrapped in ribbons—or bandages for the pessimistic. Flowing strands rose off her body and wriggled aimlessly with minds of their own. Her hat was but a black headband with two candles that never go out strapped against her head like horns.

The Far Caller’s Garb was Cira’s go-to for any spooky situation. It was fun how the ribbons danced around, and the staff was a nice change of pace from the usual, though she kept it hidden for now.

Cira approached the block of iron she’d conjured as a temporary seal to her archive and stopped at the second door to the end, beckoning the others over. Here she undid another seal and stepped inside.

“That’s a relief…” Nanri breathed, “I thought you were showing everyone something in the archive.”

This room was much larger than any other on Breeze Haven. Carved bricks formed an open floor with descending levels to the center and plenty of space to move around or cast big spells. Like the floor, the walls were covered in glowing enchantments to reinforce the structure and prevent serious injury. There were windows set high up against the ceiling through which one could see the open sky.

“What is this place…?” Kate asked.

Nanri also looked around curiously, falling on the windows, “Is that really outside?”

“I don’t think so,” Cira answered, “but this is the training room. There a few things I want to cover and there will be a test to ensure everyone is prepared. Glasses, Rosalie, you two can just take a seat for a while.”

“Hang on…” Lomp said.

“What?” She conjured the observers a set of chairs, a table, and water.

“I didn’t see those windows on our way in. They’re too high up, and the next door over wasn’t half as far as that wall. How is there even space for this room down here?”

“There isn’t. My dad built it so don’t ask me. He used to turn this room into different places, but it’s beyond me at my level. In any case, Smuggler, I have a question for you.”

She glossed over everyone’s confused glances and caught him off guard, “Oh, um… Yes? And please, call me by my name. It’s Triton.”

“A strong name,” she noted, adding to the aspects about this man that confused her. He could cast half-decent fire magic with a non-pitiful reserve of mana and for some reason still resorted to smuggling as a career, “So why are you crawling around caves stealing salt?”

“I wasn’t crawling! I… I had a boat—”

“That wasn’t really my question. At the end of our fight, you conjured a pretty nice fireball. The power wasn’t half bad. My question is why in the world would you conjure it right in your face? Do you simply enjoy burning?”

“N-no! Of course not!” The man was offended, “How else am I supposed to do it? That’s just how fire magic is!”

Cira sighed, “Do you have a master or are you self-taught?”

“I’m… self-taught.” He spoke carefully, “Found a book when I was a kid.”

“That explains it. Your form is terrible—watch me closely. You were trying to do something like this, I believe.” She held out an open palm and a bright ball of flame exploded into existence. Everybody reeled back from the heat.

They turned around again once the flash of mana had dulled and the smuggler looked offended just looking at it, “Yeah, something like that, I guess. Wait, why aren’t you burning?”

“Because I have a shield, as anyone casting dangerous magic should. If you don’t know how to do that, why not just conjure it over there?” She held her other hand facing out towards the wall on the far side. A similar fireball appeared across the room where she pointed, “You just as easily could have conjured it right above my head. Why wouldn’t you?”

She let it drop and a fiery blast travelled up the wall with a bright crimson flare, quickly followed by an explosive bang.

“Now that,” Cira explained, “Would have caught me off guard.” She flicked the first one over there too just to pop it off.

As the second explosion died down, the group except Nanri looked at her with great apprehension.

“You expect me to throw fireballs like that?!”

“Maybe one day,” Cira shrugged, “But I only need you to focus on making that fireball further away from yourself. If you can do that by the time I come back to you, I’ll give you a holy spell I crafted just for you.”

“What?!” He was ecstatic, “Will you really?!”

“A sorcerer does not lie.” Her attention was drawn to a raging glare that bored through her, “Yes? What is it, Kate?”

“It’s just like you witches to share your magic with a criminal like him.” She spat again, and Cira returned it whizzing past her face at speeds faster than a falcon’s swoop.

“Stupid girl, I broke you out of the same jail.” The girl had shrunk back with wide eyes, “You have the most mana out of anybody here. Do you not wield magic?”

Kate was incensed at the question, “Of course not! Witchcraft is a curse that brings nothing but ruin!”

“I said magic, didn’t I? Sorcery, if you ask me. And you don’t know what a curse is. It’s people that bring ruin. Magic just does what the caster desires. I could teach you healing magic, for instance. Or detection spells even. A thief like you could silence your footsteps, not that I can condone that. Can you see mana?”

The girl grumbled, “Yeah, I can, what of it?”

“Perfect. You’re halfway there. Just watch Tito make his fireballs for a while and I’ll come back to you.”

“I don’t want your magic, witch—”

“Just go watch him.” She scooted her off, “Alright, Chip. You and Lomp can just keep practicing together. You two don’t seem to have enough mana to pick up any worthwhile spells, no offense.”

“None taken,” Chip brushed it off, “Magic’s too much for me. I’m a simple man.” He squared off against Lomp.

“I was kind of hoping to learn some magic…” he sulked.

“Sorry pal.” Going back to the smuggler, she was under Kate’s stink eye as she inspected his new and improved fireball, “See, you’re already doing it! That didn’t take very long.”

It wasn’t very big, but it was a few feet out of arm’s reach, “Is this enough?” He beamed.

“Not at all. Ideally, distance within eyeshot should only affect your power marginally, but you’ll have to work up to that I suppose. Stop thinking of it like something you’re holding. Kate, are you watching the flow of mana through his body and out his palm?”

“Yeah…” she begrudgingly replied.

“I want you to replicate that.” Cira spit flames out of her hand as an example, “Flames are a good analog for healing because they aren’t solid, liquid, or gas.”

“I said I don’t want your witchcraft!”

After an exasperating argument, Cira finally had Triton exhibiting some tact and encouraging the girl as he practiced, offering her a moment to step away. She let everyone train for a while after that. The night was young, and they had a long way to go before passing the combat test.

Tomorrow’s a big day. After I get them started, I’ll have Nanri supervise while I run over to Uru and try to get a lead on the deritium. Rare and dangerous materials are often traded in secret, especially ones that hold mana, I would imagine. There’s also the water samples. If Uru mainly gets water from Deep Falls, that explains why it isn’t as contaminated as the second pump.

I would have liked to get a sample from the first, but as it stands, the deritium shouldn’t be too far above Uru. If the pipe wasn’t leaking into the spring it would be easier to pinpoint. Damn, those worms are going to be infected, aren’t they? Well, I’ll worry about everyone’s diet if they don’t starve.

She watched Kate pick up fire magic surprisingly quick. A few tries and she was practically at Triton’s level. He had also figured out how to make a relatively weak fireball ten feet away. Cira decided now was a good time to pop back in.

“Looks like you’ve more talent than you thought.” Cira said to her.

The girl’s mood soured, “Tch. I knew I could do it already.”

That checks out. She lied earlier. “Ready to learn healing magic? It’s useful against ghosts too.”

“Urgh, fine, you crazy woman!” Kate threw her hands up, “Just don’t burn me alive.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She took her time walking the girl through the most basic of basic healing spells: Heal. It required no incantation, nor did she have to plead to the incomprehensible one. It was the same as conjuring a flame but using holy mana instead. Instead of fire you got golden light.

Kate burned Cira—or tried to—and laughed about it. That earned her a slap with the unburnt arm, “Focus! Holy mana is all around us. You should be able to see it if you can see mana at all. Look at this.” She conjured a golden orb in her hand, “Do you see the color? The way it resonates much calmer than flame? It’s constant, like light, but comparatively at a snail’s pace.”

The girl gave her an exasperated stare, “Yes… I see it.”

“Great, look up there.” She looked in a far-off direction toward the stars, and Kate followed. “I’m sure you’ve seen the constellation, whatever you may know it as. Can you see all the mana coming from that direction?”

She groaned again, “Yes, I see it! Get on with it.”

“Good grief, you’re difficult.” Cira shook her head, “Just cast the damn spell already.”

Kate was obstinate and looked incredibly distrusting. Reluctantly, she held out her hand, “Heal…”

A soft golden light appeared in her palm and flowed over to Cira. She wasn’t hurt, but it was a good demonstration. “You did it!” she smiled.

There was the faintest flash of a grin on the girl’s face before she forced a frown, “Yeah, whatever… So what now, witch?”

“Practice with your boomerang for a while. You could probably imbue it with holy mana in an emergency, but that would really destroy the spirits and we wouldn’t get any aetherium. Just get warmed up for now, you’ll need to for the test.”

“What kind of test is it…?” She nervously asked.

“You’ll see. Tito, you’re up.”

“Huh?” He spoke absently with unsteady eyes.

“Oh, sorry. Catch.” Cira threw an elixir at him to restore his mana. Next, a dim purple lantern hung on a gnarled wooden haft appeared in her hand. The Far Caller’s Lamp held an undying flame that exuded a ghostly light. A glyph in the center of the room lit up, then a circular platform rose out of the stone. “I’ve decided you’re ready to take the exam, Tito.” She handed him a slip of paper, “Your holy spell is written on this. Now, please step into the ring.”

“It’s, uh, Triton.” He didn’t budge, but glanced at the ring, fidgeting, “What’s the test?

“Spectral combat.”