Just a Bystander

Ineffable Forces

I blew past duelling chambers and study areas without being observed by a single soul. The places were either curiously empty even though it was a weekend, or else the occupants were too distracted by their own studies or practice sessions to notice me hurtling past, suspended in the air by an invisible force. Even at the entrance to the compound, the receptionist's desk was unmanned. I caught a brief glimpse of a cup of coffee with steam still gently rising, which hinted that the man was simply away on a short break.

What a coincidence. But of course, it wasn't a mere coincidence – it was the probability-twisting influence of a major Prophecy, clinging to me in sickening waves. I was well and truly in its grip now, inescapably twined into Ambrose's life whether I wanted it or not. That thought brought a panicked lump to my throat, wrenching me out of the momentary calm. And just as quickly, the panic was quelled. I could feel the friend-in-the-arcana deftly draining the anxiety out of me and sending it frittering into the air in harmless eddies.

The doors parted at the last moment and silently slid shut behind me as I rose rapidly into the air, high above the compound. I had no idea where I was going, or rather, where I was being taken to. It felt like I had absolutely no control over what was happening. And while that might have terrified me just a few minutes ago, I found it difficult to muster up any sense of fear. All negative emotions were draining away.

In fact, everything was draining away. It was getting harder and harder to focus on anything. There was only the purity of arcana, driving me into euphoric bliss as I rose higher and higher, feeling the sunlight warm my skin.

I hung above the collection of domes in broad daylight. Below, the people in the Academy went about their business, their heads little more than blobs of hair in varying colours. There wasn't a single upturned face that had noticed the floating figure in the sky.

And then there was.

A lone oval of pink was pointed right at me, almost across the length of the entire campus, stepping out of one of the small residences occupied by the teaching faculty. At this distance, it was impossible to pick out any defining details of the face, but I felt certain that it had turned to track me as I drifted in the air.

Somehow, I was suddenly struck with the terror of discovery, feeling very much as if I had been caught in the middle of an indecent act. The euphoria faded. I sensed a kind of reluctance as it retreated, as the friend-in-the-arcana loosened its hold over me. Now that I was a little more cognizant of what was happening around me, I knew with that feeling of rightness that the person down there was someone I needed to see.

The moment stretched – the arcana continued to buoy me up, obeying my subconscious desire to escape everything. And at the same time, the feeling of rightness grew, morphing into an urgent impulse to meet that person, pushing away the last traces of euphoria.

I had a palpable sense of the weight of Prophecy bearing down of me like I was just flotsam adrift in the ocean watching a ship's inevitable approach, helpless and unable to get out of the way before being dashed against its unyielding hull.

No, I thought, grinding my teeth. You will not have me.

A bone-deep humming filled the air, which became charged. The euphoria was gone, but in its place burned a fury I had never known before. I was aflame with righteous indignation. I will not be a puppet to a Prophecy.

There was an unbearable tension that pulled at my whole being, a tightness that made it difficult to breathe, or see, or even think. The ambient arcana itself seemed to be splintering as two forces warred in and around me. Faint crackles of energy played across my skin and coursed through me, sometimes arcing off into the air before fizzling out.