115 - The Magic of Death

The dragon had apparently imprinted on Arielle even more by the time they got to the desert.
It was probably because she supplied it with a constant healing spell to keep it from whining. By the time they appeared on the desert sands, it had started burrowing its rough, scaly head into her side.
“Stop that,” Ari said and pushed it off the first time, but it only came back and bumped into her again. A little harder and it might have bruised her. She looked to Vittoria for help, but Vittoria merely gave her a wry look.
“Don’t look at me, you’re the one who wanted to bring it. Besides, my hands are already occupied.”
One of Vittoria’s hands had created two makeshift cages of light, one to carry the large hissing snake and the other to carry the paralyzed swearing demon who was now drifting on the edges of unconsciousness. She still had one hand free, but she didn’t help Arielle as the dragon continued to wreak slow but steady havoc on her midsection.
“Stop,” Ari said and put her hand up, erecting a wall of air to keep it away from her.
But then it started making chuffing noises, and the whining worsened as time passed, nearing a shrill cry.
“Why is it doing that?” Arielle wondered aloud.
“It’s trying to crawl underneath you as it would its mother. Except you don’t have nearly enough size or girth.” The baby dragon was almost as tall as Arielle and wider too.
“So what do I do?”
“Just give it head pats for now. That should fulfil the contact requirement. I’ll figure something else out later.”
Arielle sighed and reached through her no-contact wall to pat the creature’s head. It stopped chuffing and went back to licking its palm, though it still whined now and then. She wondered how long she could keep this up for.
“You said its mother was still alive, right?”
“As far as I could tell,” she said. “She’d used a thick protective layer of steam to shield herself so I couldn’t get down to see her. But if she was able to do that, then she can’t be too weak. We still have time to figure out how to free her from the ritual. But first…”
“I have to perfect the cure.”
“Yes, but it won’t be the same one as the snake. The snake is facing the effects of the agitation, but the big dragon is the source. The agitation is somewhat a reflex, a defense mechanism of sorts. However, when it goes on for this long, it can become a poison for the dragon too. We don’t exactly understand why or how, but we think of it like this: remaining in a constant state of agitation strains the body and throttles a dragon’s immunity, which further makes the dragon even more agitated. It’s a vicious cycle essentially, and it can get stuck in that state, making it such that even if we do remove the ritual, the dragon might die anyway. A dragon is never supposed to be agitated for too long, but it’s complicated by the ritual, which continues to kill her slowly. If she lives, and we don’t heal the strain that has been caused, the cycle might continue regardless. If she dies, her soul will go into the feeding of the ritual.”
Poor dragon. Arielle regretted that they had to leave it, that Vittoria wouldn’t let her try her spell, though she understood why. “Will that be enough to wake the guardian?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Your friend is a healer, right?”
“Yes. She deals with humans mostly. Knows nothing about dragon anatomy. And I’d rather not involve her too much. I don’t want to risk her newfound career.”
“If I perfected and gave her the spell form, would she be able to make a potion that could carry it? For the snake that is. And maybe the little dragon.”
“She can try, probably,” Vittoria said with a smirk. “She’d enjoy it, although she would probably throw a crucifix at my head for asking.”
“Why?”
She sighed. “It’s a long, complicated story that won’t make sense to a girl your age. Now, let’s get our guests situated so that we can get started on the lessons and the interrogation. We’ll give this one some time to heal first.”
“When do I go back to campus?”
She shrugged. “I’ll take you back in the morning. I already let the dean know.” Her portal bird had left before they did. “You’ll sleep here tonight.”
“Oh,” Arielle said as they walked. She typically didn’t like unexpected changes to her sleeping location, but she had slept at Vittoria’s before, and she could put up with a little restlessness tonight. “Okay.”
The pair finally made it to the door, but it opened before they could reach out.
A bowing Inara stood at the doorway, greeting them with the scent of saffron. “Welcome back, Lady Vittoria.”
Vittoria sighed. “Inara, I’ve asked you not to wait for me at the door. I have more than enough hands to open it myself.”
But not enough hands to help me with the dragon, Arielle thought. Interesting.
“Yes, Lady Vittoria,” Inara said. “I will take note.”
“Good. And stop bowing.”
Inara straightened, her cheeks reddening. “Yes Lady Vittoria.”
“And stop calling me Lady Vittoria. Don’t call me lady anything, actually. It reminds me of life back in the cursed royal court.”
“Ah. Yes…erm….”
“Vittoria.”
“Vittoria.” The word was stilted and awkward on Inara’s tongue, and she fiddled with her hands as she said it. Her eyes touched on the dragon, but she said nothing until she glanced at Arielle and executed another deep bow. “Welcome, Lady Lous.”
Vittoria closed her eyes and sighed again. It took a second for Arielle to realize that Inara was referring to her alias, Tamsy Lous.
“Hello.” Ari assumed that Inara hadn’t heard it both times Elric and Vittoria had said Ari’s real name. She hadn’t been in the room at the time so there was a chance she didn’t catch it. Unless Vittoria and Elric had somehow wiped her mind of it. She hoped it wasn’t the latter. Arielle wasn’t sure she would approve of that.
“Hello,” Inara said again, and her blush deepened.
“You look better than before,” Arielle said.
Inara inhaled sharply with Vittoria, who had started moving through the doors, freezing and turning around to peer at Arielle.
“R…really?” Inara stammered.
“Yes.” Inara was not as pale as she once was, and not as fragile-looking either. She was still relatively thin, but the hollowness underneath her eyes and the gauntness of her cheekbones had eased somewhat.
At her response, Inara cleared her throat, blinking rapidly. “No, I…I don’t think…I shouldn’t…thank…” She didn’t seem to know where to go with the statement, glitching repeatedly.
Vittoria finally said, “Let’s go, Arielle.”
Arielle nodded once at Inara and entered, following Vittoria behind a wall made of twisted wood and down an adobe staircase.
“Does Inara know who I am?” Arielle whispered when they had gotten far enough away. “Or did you wipe her memory?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“I did not,” she said, although she did not answer the first part of the question.
“You’ll have to be careful with Inara,” Vittoria continued in a low tone, the light shifting over her back and fading with their descent. “Don’t compliment her too much. She’s not used to it, and you might hurt her brain. She’s also suspicious of kindness. We have to ease her into it.”
“Okay.”
“Actually, you, in particular, probably shouldn’t compliment her at all. At least not for some time.”
“Why?”
Vittoria didn’t answer, as they reached the bottom.
Her basement was really an underground dungeon. The ceiling was thatched with slender woven leaves, each thread traced with magical scripts that ran in swirls down the sides of the cobbed walls. A hollow tunnel parted the sand and led into magically reinforced cages, with wooden nets functioning as barriers to freedom.
Vittoria told Arielle that the wood could not be broken and would respond quite severely to any attempts to escape. Ari wasn’t surprised. If she listened hard, she could almost hear a heartbeat from below. The entire space felt alive, constantly monitoring and learning.
Arielle spotted a few of Vittoria’s captives as they walked past.
Most lay on solid oak tables, although a few were encased in glass. Some had been severed into pieces with different parts of their anatomy nailed and tagged on the wall.
It was more than a little unsettling.
Vittoria whistled as she continued, ignoring the carcasses. Arielle also saw the demon they had caught, who looked like his upper body had been ripped from his lower, although there was no bloodshed somehow. He too hung on the wall, unconscious.
It was a horrific image, but Arielle reminded herself that he had tried to kill Elric first, and almost succeeded. For that, he deserved death.
At the end of the narrow hallway, they finally dumped the new demon in an empty cell, and Vittoria kept the snake in the opposite one.
First, she held out her hand, and out sprouted a smaller version of the tree that the snake had been curled around. She then set the creature free on the ground, watching it slither across, adjusting quickly to its new home.
“You’re not going to experiment on it, are you?” Arielle asked.
“No. I only experiment on things that are trying to kill me, or are already dead. Usually one leads to the other. That’s my golden rule.” She turned and regarded the dragon who was sticking to Arielle’s side.
“He should probably go in a cage too,” she said. But the second Arielle took her hand off its forehead, the keening cry returned, increasing in octave to a loud, annoying whine.
Victoria grimaced. “I can already tell this is going to be a nightmare.”
“I can keep petting him throughout dinner,” Ari suggested. “We can figure out a solution once it’s time to go to sleep.”
Vittoria paused. “Alright.”
Ari, Vittoria, and the dragon went back up to where Inara was sitting at a decorated table, with plates of tender, seared lamb, next to a chunky broth and an assortment of colorful, intricately arranged sautéed herbs and grains.
“I see you made good use of the produce I got,” Vittoria said.
Inara nodded. She still didn’t mention the dragon as Ari sat opposite her at the dinner table, although her eyes drifted towards it frequently. It stood by Arielle while she continued to pet it, using a pillow of air to support her elbow so her shoulder did not ache.
“At least you sat to wait this time,” Vittoria said to Inara, sitting at the head of the table. “Small steps. Next time you can try eating without me.”
Inara looked scandalized by the suggestion, as Vittoria reached for the meat and began to divide it between the three plates.
Once she was done passing it out, Arielle stared down at her meal and noted that, though the meat was perfectly charred and the soup a glossy brown color, the spice blend was very strong. She didn’t know what had been added to it, but something about the aroma bothered her nostrils, and it would likely bother her if it remained on her breath after she ate.
“What’s wrong, Arielle?” Vittoria asked as she started slicing into the meat.
“I don’t think I like this,” she said.
Inara, who had been sitting with anxious anticipation, jerked at Arielle’s words.
“You haven’t even tried it,” Vittoria said.
Arielle shook her head. “It doesn’t smell good.”
Inara instantly shot to her feet. “I’m so sorry. I’ll prepare something else.”
“No, you won’t,” Vittoria said. “Ari, don’t be rude. Inara worked very hard on this. It smells delicious.”
“Perhaps in a general sense,” Ari said. “But it’s not my preference.”
“I can–” Inara tried again, but Vittora interrupted.
“Then you can eat something else. Right?”
“Right.” The vegetables looked well-steamed and were not made with the same spice blend. She would prefer protein with her meal, but she didn’t want to inconvenience Inara, so she could go without it for one night.
“No, I…it was my mistake…” Inara still seemed distraught. “I’ll make another one.”
“No, you will not,” Vittoria said sternly. “You don’t have to be so eager to serve, Inara. It’s not your responsibility to accommodate everyone. You’re a guest here. You don’t even have to cook if you don’t want to.”
“But I must–”
“No, you mustn’t. I only let you do it because when I told you not to, you became a nervous wreck. And because I actually enjoy your meals. Nevertheless, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to while you’re here, and while I appreciate your kindness, I don’t want constant self-sacrifice and debasement. We’re going to build you a backbone, girl, one way or another. Now sit down.”
Inara bit her lip but sank into the seat.
“Good. Arielle, tell her that everything looks great.”
“You told me not to compliment her.”
Inara looked up in alarm, and Vittoria pinched the bridge of her nose, then drew her hand over her face in clear frustration.
“Sorry,” Ari said, instantly realizing her mistake of saying something insensitive.
“It’s fine,” Vittoria responded tiredly. “Let’s just eat.”
They enjoyed the rest of the meal in relative silence, except for the dragon, which made chuffing sounds as it enjoyed a live lizard that Vittoria’s portal bird had caught while it sat by Arielle.
After dinner, it was time to start their soul magic lessons.
Vittoria took Ari and the dragon down again to observe the first demon she had captured, the one who had attacked Elric.
“He’s not dead,” Vittoria said. “He’s in an in-between state, where the soul is attempting to either separate from its body or bond back together. Demons have what we call resilient souls, in that they can rebond a good number of times. It typically requires severe and repetitive trauma for a demon soul to be separated and vanquished for good. Humans are on the opposite end of the spectrum with an unresilient soul. That means that we really only die once, and typically after we do, the soul doesn’t stitch back together.”
“One of the founders of blood magic reportedly achieved immortality,” Arielle said. “Does that mean he somehow altered his soul?”
“Obviously it has to be tied to that. All magic types are interconnected at the end of the day. The problem is finding the connection. But if I had to guess, and if everything I know about both magic types is true, I would say blood magic is external to soul magic.”
“In what way?”
“In that the soul feeds the blood, not the other way round, though they do share a reciprocal relationship where either one can affect the other.” She tapped the enclosure. “There are layers to a soul. Memories are a layer. Emotions are another layer. However, those two are part of the outer soul, the most accessible parts. To truly extract and use a soul, you will need to get into the inner soul. That’s where the magic resides.”
“We have magic in our souls?”
“Yes. In a way, you can say that every single living creature is made up of magic even if they cannot use it. And magic can technically be extracted from everyone, which is how the ritual we just saw works.” She put out a hand. “However, the catch is that most creatures can only harness their own soul magic in death, because that’s typically the only time we get to truly understand our soul.”
“Oh,” Arielle said.
“Yes. It’s how necromancy operates: by harnessing the magic of death, the power of that understanding. Some souls use that magic to keep themselves alive for a little longer, especially if their qing is strong enough. The qing, by the way, is the part of the soul that handles emotions like resentment or love. Usually those who have a lot of resentment built up can utilize their soul magic to become ghouls that hang around and haunt others. Those who have too much love use that magic to possess items and become protective charms or healing tools.”
“Like the saint’s sacrifice used in the panacea?”
“Exactly. That’s one way in which the soul feeds into the blood.”
“Does soul magic look like regular magic?”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t tend to see the things you do,” she said, amused. “I mean, you would have to tell me.”
“I see.”
“Usually, as with most magic, we go by feel,” she said. “There are elements to it, but you have to feel the magic as it occurs. To harness soul magic, you must become very familiar with the feel of death.” She pointed at the demon. “For example, our friend here is actively dying and undying in cycles. Meditate on him. Not on the magic essences that you see, but on his breath. His heartbeat. His stillness. Get used to the sounds of death. Acknowledge his struggle. And then we’ll go from there.”
“I can try now?”
“Yes. I have to go do something real quick before interrogating our other demon friend. So you can keep at it, and by the time I get back, you should have felt something. Then we’ll discuss it.”
“Okay.”
Vittoria left Ari in the basement, standing at the other side of the netted cell, staring at the broken Overlord.
She sat on the ground and closed her eyes, meditating in the way she was instructed to. His breath. His heartbeat. His dying and undying. She had no idea how long she sat there, inhaling, focused on the other creature.
She only opened her eyes when Vittoria patted her shoulder again.
“Okay,” Vittoria said. “That should be enough time. Tell me what you felt.”
Arielle paused for a few seconds, struggling with the admission. “I felt nothing.”