The Last Red Year

EIGHT: The Smell of Books

 The evening classes no longer matter to Kas--the rambling of their instructors is all just noise. Their body, their soul, every corner of their consciousness is still humming with the reverberations of their magic. They feel alive, in a way they never have before. Is this what Isri feels all the time? This overflowing of power, this sensation of the whole world vibrating?

They spend all their free time between classes trying to call upon that new power. They think they maybe manage to successfully keep a squirrel pinned to its tree branch for a second or two, but that could just be their imagination. Maybe it's just a really patient squirrel. They don't know, but they do know this--their whole world is resonating on a different frequency than it was this morning. Everything but their magic is just meaningless noise.

They aren't even that upset when Isri chooses to sit with the Arch-Mages instead of with them at dinner--they miss them, sure, but they're too excited about their own magic to really care. Sorine's been in a foul mood all afternoon, upset by Ghiliss's criticism and grumpy demeanor, but Kas doesn't let it get to them. They feel...powerful. They aren't just a wimpy green mage. They have the potential to do amazing things.

Their happiness is only slightly soured when Isri doesn't come straight to their room after dinner--maybe they're just going on a walk, or maybe they have extra-special training with Mirei, and at this point, Kas doesn't blame them. They've never fully understood Isri's power, but they've felt the gravity of it. They've smelled the metallic tang in the air that comes with turning back a tiny corner of time. They hope their training is going well too. They've spent so long in the shadows. They deserve to shine.

They end up going to sleep before Isri gets back--they're tired from their day, and barely manage to keep themself awake long enough to bathe. It's a relief to finally actually be clean, and the soap provided in the bath-chamber smells amazing. Some kind of floral scent they're unfamiliar with--they ask Mauragan, who seems to know everything, and learn that it's called lavender.

The next few weeks fade into an utter blur. They learn about all sorts of things, mostly from Mauragan and the other students rather than in their actual classes. They feel themself growing stronger in each training session with Hadling--who seems genuinely impressed with their progress. It isn't long before they're holding their own even against Cornwine, a feisty red-haired kid who's decidedly the best in the green group. Well--they were decidedly the best. But Kas is growing stronger every day.

Things are good. They get pretty consistent low marks in all their actual academics, and the only weapon they can figure out how to use at all is a bow, but their magic blooms inside them like a spring flower first unfurling its petals, and all their small failures mean so little to them that they barely even think about them.

Isri's thriving, too. Just...on their own.

It's a surprise when they actually carve out some time in their busy schedule to have lunch with their little group of friends. It's not like they haven't seen each other at all--they're still roommates, in the end. They still spar together in the mornings. But with all the duties that come with being an Arch-Mage, it's been hard to find time to really talk to each other. They're out and about early, and they don't come home until late. But it's not like Kas hasn't been busy too, and they're sure they'll reconnect quickly, like no time has passed at all.

"How are lessons?" Kas asks, hoping against hope that it doesn't sound awkward. "I bet you're doing a bunch of really cool stuff now."

Isri splashes a little water from their glass in their face, barely managing to keep themself awake. "They're good...really good. I've learned a lot of stuff. But Mirei says I have a long way to go before I'm as good as Mage Ashira was."