To Fly the Soaring Tides

259 - A Different Kind of Soup



An explosion of spinning mana fanned out from the monument like a burning flower when Cira's fist made contact. Each elemental ring flared to life like a vacuum, devouring the elements straight out of her punch. While the training hall of Icarus was bathed in aethereal light and percussive blasts echoed through the chamber, not a single crack formed in the monument.

The key to the sorcerer's punch was to convert one's aura into offensive magic as instantaneously as possible. It was not something to be truly relied on, but it was always a good opener. Through it, she could funnel her body's equivalent of complete aether directly into the target. Much like the monument's circles, she could tell which element pervaded her opponent's defenses most effectively.

In this case it was none, not that the monument was really an opponent. Which is why this was perfect. Her trademark sorcerous punch was meant to deliver all her mana equally, limited only by her will.

"Phew." Roman wiped a bead of sweat from his cheek, "I was worried your attack would endanger your fellow students."

Cira was a little irked that her powers proved wholly insufficient to so much as damage the monument, but it was probably better this way.

"First of all, that's offensive." That's what he was worried about?! Not that I would break the monument? "Second of all, why is this thing so strong?"

A disembodied chuckle rose up as Lilith stepped out from behind Roman, "Don't feel disappointed. Only three have done better than you in this test since the founding of the First Order."

Sensing Cira's disdain, Roman decided to cut the pale lady off, "Your father, of course, then our own Fitzgeralt. Of course, neither could touch the record set by the High Arbiter of the First Order, Atticus Graves."

"Wait, Atticus Graves, you say?" Cira had heard that name quite recently and came up with a thousand questions about the world tree and whatever archons were supposed to be.

"So, you've heard his name, I see." He offered an indecipherable smile before scanning over the other students, "Ahh, we can speak of him later on. For now, it's best we move onto the second test.

You must now pick an opponent to spar with from among your peers. Your performance will be graded on a variety of metrics, then we will hopefully know how you place in relevant subjects."

Cira looked over her fellow students. A few were raring for a challenge, especially the guy who called her out in the first place, but Cira had other ideas. She turned back to her teachers.

"I pick Lilith." The students either gasped or laughed. There was no in between, but some appeared downright excited to watch Cira get beat up by a teacher.

He only sighed, "Not allowed… If you do not wish to choose an opponent, I will assign one to you."

That Roman is no fun. Lilith doesn't look opposed to the idea.

"Fine, then I choose this pretentious boy with the lofty hair." The guy, Jura, was looking for a fight, so she would give it to him.

"Perfect," He chuckled, stepping out into the center of the room. Cira followed, opposite him, "I'll show you what a mage of the Order can really do."

This was the prelude to an awkward few moments as all the class reeled in anticipation. Evidently, Jura expected her to open, and he would perform some kind of counter, Cira supposed.

"Go on then…" She urged, not wanted to embarrass him by ending the fight before he even had the chance to try.

Judging by his aura, this would be a very easy fight. He was around the Shale Witch's level if she had to guess. Not bad for his age, but not remarkable either.

"Earthen Fortress!" He shouted before disappearing in a dome of rock.

"You're joking…" Cira conjured a small stone and threw it at the shield, which shattered instantly. The guy appeared with wide eyes. He was in the middle of some kind of spell, but it started to jumble as he stopped encanting. "Show me, Jura. You have my attention. I sincerely wish to know what a mage of the Order can do."

Though she largely knew. Eliza and Roman both fell under the classification of an Order mage, and she was accosted by a few first mark arbiters. At least the former two were quite impressive. On the other hand, so was her father, who tangentially counted. Presuming she didn't know was actually quite the foolhardy notion, Cira thought.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"Great Flames of the Infinite Inferno!" He shouted as… a handful of fireballs appeared around him in a crescent shape.

For any sorcerer worth their salt, this was enough to get to know their opponent. One could learn a lot from an opening attack. This confirmed Cira's suspicion that he was exactly the type of amateur to try and make his own spells without actually being proficient enough to make an impact. This is why a good name is so important, among so many other reasons.

Cira knew this person was arrogant, and that was enough to determine his performance would be even more lackluster than his aura. There was nothing hidden here.

She snapped her fingers and the fireballs each turned crimson. Like crystal orbs of aether flame, they fell to the ground with enough weight to shatter the bricks below.

"Prison of Inarguable Defeat." Cira turned around and walked away. That action served as the trigger for her new sorcery, which grew a sizable squash from the shattered remains of Jura's frail fortress of earth. This inexplicable gourd grew voraciously until it swallowed his feet. He screamed, of course, as the squash continued to consume him, only silenced as it broached his head.

In moments, there was only squash. Jura was gone, and the students chattered in fear for a precious few seconds.

Jura's fist broke through the squash. Then the other. He clawed his way out until there was enough space to fit his torso, then pulled himself out through the hole like a ravenous shrew desperately trying to be born into this world. With a wet plop, he lay on the ground panting, covered head to toe in pungent orange viscera. Chunks of squash clung to the folds in his clothes or was smeared into his now flattened hair.

"Wha—what the hell did you do to me?" He looked at Cira like he had been born again, or perhaps almost died.

"You have no business challenging me if you're so slow I can grow an entire gourd around you without interruption. By my measure you haven't even solidified your domain." Cira looked over her instructors, "Just what are you teaching these people? Domain conjuration is easily one of the most important first steps."

"Right…" Roman said, "While it's anyone's guess how many first steps there are to the path of mana, it can be said this class is one. If you weren't aware, this is the very first formal magic instruction most of the students around you will take."

"Okay…" Cira looked over the stunned students, all but Emma with a twinkle of fear in their eyes. "So, I have imparted wisdom on Jura. Perhaps he will not be so arrogant in the future."

"We should go… You have passed." Roman declared. While Lilith's focused grin was making Cira a little uncomfortable, it appeared she herself was making the students uncomfortable. She had to ease into it if she was going to learn among them.

"Yes, let's." Their surroundings changed and Cira found herself in the ever-familiar training hall, with a single companion—her teacher, Roman. "Welcome to my home."

"It is an honor, Cira." He offered a very subtle bow, mostly of the head. A sign of simple respect, "But I have been here once before. It looks vastly different than I remember."

Her father always told her never to trust a space mage, hence the boarding pass she placed around his neck. Most of her friends back on Acher were accepted by Breeze Haven by this point, but Cira was not close enough with this man to allow him such privileges.

Even with the boarding pass, however, a space mage could take various measures to siphon mana or even return of their own accord given they were proficient enough. Space anchors, prevailing pathways, instance recollection… These were just examples of ways a space mage could attempt to invade her privacy.

Roman seemed harmless enough though. For one, he respected her father, and Breeze Haven didn't seem uncomfortable to host him.

Strangely enough, that much was clearer to her now, and it started gnawing at a certain spot in her aura. She was still unfamiliar with the implication of breaking the Seal of the Sage's Resolve, but these extra senses were almost overwhelming at times. Incidentally this is part of what made the Village such a peaceful place to lodge these days.

More importantly, Roman's words struck a very serious chord in her soul.

"This place is different than how you remember, hmm?" Cira could feel it. "My father used to turn this hall into a whole host of different settings. I always wondered how, but in this moment…"

I can feel it.

This was no pocket realm, nor was it a transient space of sorts. It was simply as if this space existed in various forms. Carve a deer out of aether, and it would exist as each element as well, so long as Cira could pull it apart.

In this case, she was drawing the desired form from many others in a pile. Instead of a pile of papers though, this was more like a pile of leaves. Each form held weight and they all fell in on each other in perpetuity.

Here we go. I just need to pick which leaf to place the bottom of the pile. The leaf bearing the most weight will shape this hall.

"Eww, what the hell, Dad?" Cira and Roman now found themselves in a salt-flat beneath the beating sun, surrounded by a field of bodies as far as the eye could see. "Uhh, this should be fine for blood, right?"

"I… suppose…?" Roman tried drawing blood from one of the staged corpses, and it worked. Trails of blood started swirling around him before condensing into six carved diamonds of sanguine luster, "Let's begin here. I want to see you conjure six concurrent wells of equivalent potency and appearance."

These were not all bodies of humans around her, but the outliers were at least something similar. Whether their head bore silver feathers or their feet were hooves, all the blood seemed the same at a glance. Human or not.

There wasn't a trace of soul in sight, nor even a remnant. It was entirely unclear whether these corpses were pure conjurations or not, though she had to assume. Regardless, Cira expected to be uncomfortable studying this subject in the first place.

"Okay, I can do this… Just dive right in." Instead of conjuring a staff, Cira gestured with her own hands for the blood to rise, "Forgive me, mysterious corpses. I am going to borrow this for a while."


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.