73 - Gratitude

Faulkey wasn’t dead.
Professor Graham confirmed it by walking over to check on him. He didn’t have any broken bones either, but the professor performed a quick healing spell and said that Faulkey would likely need to sleep off the rest of the headache Lyra had given him.
Graham then cautioned Lyra about using too much force in that final attack, but said her miscalculation was within a reasonable range so he wouldn’t deduct points.
From his follow-up wink, it was assumed that Lyra had passed the class.
As Byron and another of Faulkey’s friends carried him to the infirmary, Lyra was instantly the center of attention.
The observing crowd had burst into applause upon Faulkey’s confirmation of life, and they now rushed at Lyra, with the twins crushing her in a big bear hug. Maus got in there too, patting her on the back, and some of the first and even the second years said things like, “Wow, way to go,” and “That was incredible!”
It appeared that Lyra was pretty well-liked in their class, which made sense given how helpful she was. Even if she wasn’t, most people knew how hard she had worked for this and were happy to see her succeed.
Arielle hung back, not wanting to join the crowd who stuck beside Lyra even as Graham called the next duellists to occupy the circle.
She watched Lyra enjoy the accolades, with a small smile on her lips. She was proud of her friend, of her bravery in accepting that battle, and her strength in overcoming her prior limitations.
Lyra had fought an inner war and won against her mental block. As such, she had reaped a massive reward.
“How did you make that spell?” a voice said.
Ari didn’t notice Professor Llywyd coming up next to her, but she had expected this conversation. They were standing apart from the crowd, who were either talking to Lyra or watching the other duellists.
Arielle thought through her response.
She could, of course, speak in generalities about the whole process, but she could not give Llywyd the specifics.
“Through meditation,” she answered. “I learned that by meditating and increasing body heat, one can impact the reactivity of Vitae, which can then encourage them to bond with each other.”
“It cannot be that easy,” Professor Llywyd said. “The reactivity of Vitae is one of the most researched topics in the magical world. There have been many, many mage-scientists who attempted to make Vitae-only spells, and all of them have failed. You did it in a week.”
“It was longer than a week.”
“It’s far less time than anyone else can reasonably expect to develop such a thing. The last magical breakthrough we had took years. This…I cannot believe it. It cannot be as easy as body heat.”
“It is. It just would not work for anyone else except for Lyra. She has a peculiar set of circumstances that make Vitae more susceptible to being controlled by her.” Vitae was especially devoted and obedient to Lyra. It did her bidding even more than it did Arielle’s.
“I’ve thought this before, but you sometimes talk about Vitae as if it’s a living thing.”
Arielle shrugged. “It helps to see it like that.”
A shout from one of the combatants distracted them temporarily, and Arielle caught Lyra’s gaze for a brief second. Someone was talking to her, but while she smiled at them, she raised her eyebrow in question at Arielle.
Arielle didn’t know what she was asking exactly, but she shrugged in response.
“The two of you will come to my office later today and show me exactly how you meditated to discover this,” the professor said. “Then we will write a paper on it, a proposal that we will submit to the Institute. In that, we will include your creation of the rune as well. You can, of course, retain authorship, and I will be there as a supervisor to ensure you’re using the appropriate terms and tools. I’ll also have the dean summon your guardian so we can discuss the splits.”
“Okay,” Arielle said distractedly. She was back to watching the battle, which looked like the Luxa-Massa boy was winning.
“Arielle.”
“Yes.”
“Look at me.”
When she glanced over, Professor Llywyd grinned, lowering her chin a tad.
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of what you’ve done here, as well as what I’m proposing,” she said. “You have taken a powerful, difficult spell and adjusted it such that it can be achieved at a lesser tier with only Vitae essences. AVitae-only spell. You have, Arielle, done the impossible. I cannot impress on you enough how exceptional and unprecedented this is, and once we reveal it, you will instantly become the most interesting and famous scholar in the magical world. Noble family heads across the globe will clamor to meet you. Scientists and companies alike will attempt to poach you. You will command influence. They will write about you in journals and offer you wealth beyond your wildest imagination. I would love to get a cut off that, of course.” She chuckled, then coughed mildly. “What I’m trying to say, Arielle, is that this is a very big deal, one that I don’t think you’re treating with the importance it deserves.”
“Oh.” Now that she thought about it, that sounded like more publicity than she had expected. She contemplated Elric’s response to all this and decided swiftly. “On second thought, I don’t think I want to do any of that.”
Professor Llywyd’s smile slipped. “You don’t?”
“Yes. I don’t have time.”
“Time?” the professor practically sputtered. “Time? If this is about the rest of your classes, I’m sure the dean will give you time off to fulfil your other obligations. Your discovery is far more important, and you’re already far ahead of the class in most of your lessons, anyway. You can afford the break.”
“Yes, but I don’t want to do it. I do not want that much attention on me. It’s optional, right?”
She hoped so. She had only done this to help Lyra stay at the academy, not to become the most interesting scholar in the magical world. She was supposed to be keeping a low profile. Elric certainly would not be happy about this, and she didn’t want him to be upset at her again. “I would like to keep the truth about that spell a secret between us if possible.” Luckily, they were so far out of earshot that no one would hear them.
“I mean, yes, it is your choice, of course,” Professor Llywyd said after a moment of hesitation. “But making that choice is unthinkable to me. I mean, Arielle, the impact of such a discovery…and the rune… what you’ve done to Lyra is nothing short of–”
“I didn’t do anything to Lyra,” she said. “I simply alleviated the consequences of what had already been done to her, allowing her talent to shine. Lyra is the one who worked hard to achieve that spell, and it would not work for anyone who wasn’t Lyra.”
The professor shook her head. “Yes, I understand all that, yet we can glean certain things from your creation of the spell and Lyra’s condition, and build on that to perhaps create a new set of Vitae-only spells. This is only the beginning–”
“No, thank you.”
“But Arielle, you should at least–”
“I don’t want to do it, Professor,” she said, fixing her gaze on the professor’s pointed boots. “That’s final.”
The professor did not speak for some time, as a groan of defeat in the background announced that the fight was over.
Graham told the combatants what they did right and wrong, and Arielle risked a look at her professor once more.
Professor Llywyd was staring straight ahead, lips puckered, protest etched in the drawn lines of her face. Her clear light blue eyes seemed to flash, but she managed to draw in a breath, controlling her emotions.
“I see,” she said. “Well, I respect your decision, though I do not necessarily understand it.”

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“Thank you,” Ari responded, turning her attention back to the celebrating Lyra.
Lyra caught her eye again and beckoned her forward, but Ari didn’t truly want to be a part of that crowd right now. It was better that she hold back and congratulate Lyra when she was less occupied.
“You might try to downplay what you did,” Professor Llywyd said quietly. “But I know you changed Lyra’s fate. Changed her life. You have the opportunity here to do that for more people. So, I truly hope you change your mind.”
“I probably won’t,” Arielle said honestly, causing the professor to sigh deeply.

---

Professor Valeria stared down at the embossed letter in her hand. She had wiped her glasses several times before reading it again, hoping the words spelled out by the elegantly lilting script wouldn’t change.
Dear Valeria Stephanus
We have never been fortunate enough to make an acquaintance, but I am told that you are the current mentor to oneArielle Blacksoil, who will be attending the Iverson Ball as a guest of highest honor. Arielle will become a member of my family sometime in the near future, and as such, I have taken great interest in her education and would like to meet you in person.
We hereby invite you and key members of your clan as distinguished guests. I would hope to have a private conversation with you there.
Regards,
Lord William Wesley.
Duke of Iverson, Lord of the Golden Lands.
Valeria’s hand shook.
The letter had arrived by raven this morning, and she had been staring at it ever since she had opened it. She had known that this letter would be important, just by the nature of the pale, silky vellum it was printed on, and the glowing golden ink that had been used to write, not to mention the imperial red stamp that only royals used.
Rich gilded silk had been woven and beaded around the entire page, and it likely cost a lot of coin to produce, but it was far more than that in value.
The Iverson Ball was where the elite of ascendant society mingled. The High Ascendant himself had attended on more than one occasion. It was very exclusive, and people worked for years to secure invites.
She had never even hoped or dreamed that she would ever get one, yet it was in her hands.
She, a member of a disgraced clan, was invited to the Iverson ball.
She knew, of course, who she owed that to.
Thank you, Arielle.
Valeria hadn’t been in attendance at Family Day, but she had heard through the grapevine that was the professor’s lounge that Lord Wesley had been quite taken with Arielle. He had cleared the hall just to talk to her. It seemed from the letter that Arielle had told him that Valeria was her mentor.
Valeria felt that she was overselling her role a bit.
There wasn’t much she could teach the young genius. Arielle was extremely self-motivated and was very good at teaching herself most of what she knew. Valeria’s job was more of an advisor, and she only needed to clarify things for Ari now and again, or inform her of a better way to do things when it came to spell-crafting.
She had even somewhat given up searching for another mentor for her because Arielle looked like she would soon surpass all the ones Valeria knew, and Valeria did not have the means to reach the Masters beyond that.
And now, with very little effort, Arielle had just secured for her an exclusive invite and a private meeting with one of the most important men in ascendant society.
Valeria couldn’t even imagine what her father would do if she told him.
She herself didn’t know how to react. It had not yet sunk in. Every bone in her body was frozen in shock and gratitude so powerful it consumed her.
She didn’t move until the door to her office opened and Professor Llywyd walked in, looking very displeased.
“Explain to me something about your mentee.”
“Arielle?” What a coincidence, considering she had just been thinking about her.
“Yes.” She began to pace. “She has achieved something…impossible, to say the least. I mean, I can barely believe I’meven saying it, but…Arielle created a spell using only vitae orbs, and Lyra used it.”
Valeria had thought nothing could shock her more than the letter. She had thought wrong.
When Llywyd had thrown the gauntlet a week ago, no one had expected Arielle to actually pick it up. So much so that Valeria had gone to talk to Llywyd afterward about how unfair it was for her to expect Arielle and Lyra to achieve such a thing. Llywyd had explained Lyra’s affliction to her and why she could not continue in the program if they did not find a workaround. The dare had been an attempt to get the girls to see that.
It looked to have backfired.
“How did she do it? Well, I have no clue.” Llywyd laughed again, this time with a tinge of hysteria. “It’s only a topic that scientists and researchers have spent their lifetimes arguing about, a problem that they dedicated their life’s work to solving, with absolutely nothing to show for it. And she did it in a week. A week, Valeria! How am I supposed to explain that? How am I supposed to accept it and move on? She doesn’t want to pen any papers, doesn’t want to patent the spellform. She wants me to keep it a secret, as much as something like that can be kept secret anyway. She doesn’t want her name attached to the discovery. How am I supposed to accept that? Lyra’s aura was purely green! There was nothing else there. Just Vitae!”
“Calm down,” Valeria said, because it looked like the other woman was on the verge of ripping her hair out from sheer madness. She was shocked as well, but she had gotten used to Arielle doing things far out of the ordinary.
Yet this was on another level.
When Arielle had made that rune that helped Lyra cast [Spore Burst], it had been a jaw-dropper. But while that was unusual, it was plausible. Sometimes, they had beginners with impressive bloodlines doing extraordinary feats, and Valeria had seen how special Lyra was just from her Vitae scores. It was why she had worked so hard to bring the rest of her cores up to speed.
So Lyra casting that spell made sense in hindsight.
However, a spell made only of Vitae had literally never been done before. It was impossible to even fathom such a thing.
“When the two of you meet again, you can ask her to draw the spell script she used,” Llywyd said. “If you don’t believe me, that should prove it. The girl just achieved the impossible, something that will cement her name in history, and she doesn’t understand it. She refuses to share it with the world.”
“It’s her choice at the end of the day,” Valeria said.
Llywyd looked at her like she was crazy. “DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT I’M SAYING, VALERIA?”
“I do.” She winced at her bolded tone. “But Arielle doesn’t strike me as the type who wants to be recognized for all the things she does. She doesn’t work as hard as she does to achieve recognition. She simply does it because she wants to.”
“Yes, but why would she explicitly not want a reward? She seemed fine with writing the paper with me at first, until I broke down how much publicity it would entail.”
“Everyone is different,” Valeria said. “Some people pursue enlightenment for its own sake and don’t want the stress of ascendant politics.”
Llywyd stopped in her step, rubbing her chin.
“Unless she’s hiding something,” she commented.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. There’s something very strange about her. Something beyond her obvious genius. I have friends in High Water. That’s close to Fenway. Perhaps I should look into her background a little more.”
Valeria frowned. “That would be a gross and unnecessary invasion of privacy, Llywyd.”
“Yes, but she has given me no choice.” She shook her head. “I must know everything there is to know about Arielle Blacksoil.”

---

Arielle sat with Lyra at the dining table. They had already eaten, but this was the only place that could contain the crowd that followed Lyra, demanding to know how she did what she did.
They had been surrounded by people all afternoon, and when a few left, more came to take their place.
Lyra had spoken to first years, second years, and even some third years who had returned from their test and heard what happened.
Arielle tuned out most of the conversation. She probably shouldn’t be here, and her time would be better spent doing other things, but whenever she tried to escape, Lyra would look at her in a way that suggested she wanted her to stay.
So Ari waited with her thoughts until Lyra said, “I don’t know why you guys keep asking me about the spell. Arielle was the one who made it.”
Arielle finally looked up from her hands, noticing that everyone was staring at her.
“I thought [Spore Burst] was already a spell,” someone asked.
“It was, but it was too difficult to achieve without a rune. However, Arielle managed to adjust the spell till it was an adept tier, and she taught me how to cast that. She’s the only reason I won.”
“I wouldn’t say the only reason,” Arielle said. “It wouldn’t have worked if it weren’t you and if you didn’t work so hard.”
“You worked hard. You barely slept for several nights, and you spent hours trying to get my cores to do what they were supposed to do. Not to mention you’re the one who figured out what was wrong with me in the first place when all the professors and healers gave up.” Lyra’s eyes got alarmingly misty, her voice croaky as she said, “Thank you for not giving up on me, Arielle. Thank you so much.”
“It’s okay,” Ari said. “It’s what friends do.”
“No,” she said, beaming at her. “It’s what best friends do.”
Arielle gasped. She gripped her thighs.
This was monumental.
She had never had a best friend before.
She had never even hoped that she would gain such a title because she didn’t think she was capable of it. Even though she had made friends, she knew she wasn’t doing a great job at keeping them. Somewhere deep inside, she had been waiting for the moment when Lyra and Maus would realize that being friends with her wasn’t worth the effort. Lyra had many other friends whom she didn’t have to explain simple things to, who didn’t irritate her and miss social cues, and who understood sarcasm, emotions, and all the other things that best friends were supposed to.
Friends who had time to spend with her, like the twins, who were also funny and knew lots of interesting things about plants.
Or Maus, who was generally pleasant to be around.
But out of all of them, Lyra had called Ari her best friend.
“You mean it?” she asked Lyra, almost afraid to ask.
“I mean it,” Lyra said, and she hugged her. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”
Arielle tried not to be stiff at the hug. She even patted Lyra’s back. “Probably, but there’s a 0.1% chance you might have.”
Lyra’s laugh echoed in the hall, and many others joined in.
“Arielle.” They were interrupted by a new voice. It was Lord Wesley’s son, the one who was interested in human hearts.
“The Dean sent me to get you,” he said. “You have a visitor.”