Diffraction

Chapter Twenty: The Second Student

"In the course of that effort, I spoke with the owner of the Sunlit Refuge. His comments reflected well upon the subject—surprising considering what occurred during their stay."

At the end of a long day, after another successful raid that turned up no new information, Lyllithe sat in the comfort of a cushioned high-backed chair near the window of her room.

The silvery sphere of the vyrmeth shimmered in the moonlight, placed on a round table a few feet in front of her.

She'd set it out an hour earlier to practice basic Refocusing. But now the sphere lay forgotten. Her mind reflected on the last few days—specifically her interactions with Marta and Kristophe.

To her eyes, enhanced with elemental blood, small strands of aera floated in the room like massive dust motes or wispy webs of stretched cotton fibers. She Bound one of these with a glance, pulling it into herself. Disordered mind?

A bright star of magelight flew from her fingers and struck the silver vyrmeth. The ball sat unmoved, undisturbed.

She loosed another burst of energy, then another.

Unprepared and incompetent? Stretching forth both hands before her, Lyllithe Bound two more wisps of air and loosed twin starbursts across the room. Both orbs of power stretched into the sphere and vanished into its depths. Still the ball appeared unaffected by any Refocusing Lyllithe threw at it.

Good. It works as Kristophe described. Now I can unload some stress.

Wave after wave of energy in a shifting array of hues and shapes buffeted the smooth surface of the orb, disappearing from view like water on parched ground. Yet nothing disrupted the calm tranquility of the device.

Whether that's through the ingenuity of the Cerunae makers, or my lack of prowess, I'll never know. Certainly not without being accepted as a Novice.

Marta's light-hearted chuckles came to mind, followed by Kristophe's mocking sneer, then Nyalesee and Harra of Northridge—the latter smug and satisfied at Lyllithe's failure, the former horrified like she'd been on the night when Lyllithe used Refocusing magic in public.

It's not that they think they're always right—it's the way they ridicule me for trying to learn, asking questions, having my own thoughts.

She recognized a similar frustration from arguments with her father. Seems like forever ago we were arguing about the power of the Divine and the pacifism of the Abbey. Marta, Marten. Coincidence, certainly, but it still opens old scars.

Marta's mocking, Kristophe's insults, and Marten Aulistane's look of disdain and judgment when he declared her Light-Veiled—these all fueled the fire in her belly. If only I could Refocus some of that.

Blast after blast of elemental energy Refocused and flew from her fingers in spheres of light that cast distorted shadows around the candlelit room. First spell I learned, and the simplest. I need to vent, not think about how to cast. She propelled each burst with all the rage of a lifetime of rejection.

* * * * *

Coreleth closed the sungwood doors of her office and placed wards invisible even to the most skilled Arcanists in the Hall. None should dare try to force entry, she thought, considering the possible futility of her protective measures. But these are interesting times, with too many pieces on the move to reliably track, no matter what the Sages claim. And I will not have efforts undone through something so simple as failing to lock my door.