Legacy (Daughter of War #2)

Chapter 12: Ponderings

Music is Light's Theme from the Death Note OST. Play it!

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I look at Gilbert for answers. He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, before returning his attention towards Maya. I do the same. It's hard to discern if she's lying or not; I've known her but for a few minutes; she could be an excellent liar, even with that dead serious mask. After all, those words had the effect of a perfectly practiced script.

Still, I have to proceed cautiously. There's no telling what Pagans would do if one treads on their wrong side. "What makes you say so?" I ask, striving to maintain a tone as gentle as possible.

"Because voices tell me," she answers calmly.

I look at Gilbert again. His eyes reflect what's going on in my mind: that a poor foreign girl has gone mad, and has washed up upon our shores in a fit of following the voices in her head. She had sacrificed her country, her people, her family; all for naught. I don't know whether to pity her or to condemn her for such foolishness.

"If you say so," I reply, just as calmly.

A spark of emotions bursts in Maya's frame. Her fingers ball into fists, and her lips quiver with fury. "I can prove it!" she shrieks.

"Then prove it."

The challenge, sounding bored and cold out of my mouth, seems to make something snap in the girl. I feel a rising heat in the air, subtle but discernible. For a fleeting moment, I panic, thinking that it's my flames that are going out of control once more. But then I realise that the heat isn't coming from me—it's coming from Maya.

A sudden burst of light blinds my eyes.

I snarl, throwing my hands over my eyes and curling myself into a defensive stance. Beside me, I sense Gilbert doing the same. An ember of the fire within me starts to flicker, instinct threatening to emerge and protect me. I can't let it do that—I'll lose control. I take in a few deep breaths and attempt to calm myself. It's just light, I tell the fire. Don't worry. It can't do much harm.

Light blinds. Light burns.

Not as much as fire.

The fire gives in. It leaves a strange sensation in its aftermath. Did I just...talk to it? I direct the question towards Abner.

Think of it as a training for your diplomatic skills, Abner replies cheerily. You do need to work on that.

Abner! I begin to prepare a long string of curses to fling at him, but a touch on my shoulder stalls me.

"Constantine, I think you should see this," Gilbert's voice rings in my ear.

With some embarrassment, I curl out of my defensive position and glance at Gilbert. His attention is fixated on something before him; his eyes are wide with wonder, and his lips are parted in disbelief. I follow his gaze.

All my doubts about Maya being the Champion of Pst. Zorah immediately vanishes when I see the ball of light cradled in her hands.

"You..." I stagger backwards in shock. I don't fear magic—how can I, when I myself am a wielder of it?—but this is something else entirely. Seeing a Pagan wielding a power that was never meant for them—never heard to be used by them...

Logic suddenly kicks in. She's a Pagan. A person from the lands which still practice magic regularly. This is just a street performer's trick. Nothing special. The element of surprise wears off, and I see Maya for the fraud she is. She's just taking advantage of our general ignorance of magic, using a simple spell in attempt to persuade us, thinking that we might so easily fall for her trap. As for Grand Seer Fabienne, the old thing would believe anything remotely magical thrown in her face. I can't say I blame her though. Desperate times drives ignorant minds.