Harvest 18, 855
Aru sighed, sinking into one of Sanir’s plush armchairs, a glass of wine in hand. Her brother-in-law stood across from her, staring out the windows of his office, hands in constant motion as he fiddled with the stem of his own glass. Beyond the windows, she could see the tips of spears dancing in choreographed formation as the empire’s soldiers marched circles around the yard.
“We can’t even get a pass or something? I’d be happy to swear an oath or sign something saying I won’t use any magic while I’m there,” Aru pressed, lifting one leg over the arm of her chair, stretching out to get more comfortable.
Sanir shook his head, not looking away from the window, a scowl on his face. “They aren’t scared of what you might do. They’re scared of what you are. To them, you would represent oppression, persecution… maybe even the World Rift.”
Aru snorted, part derision, part amusement. How could a whole city believe that mages were evil? Most of them probably were mages in one way or another. The idea that anyone like her could have gathered up enough will to cause the gargantuan earthquake that sundered the plains in half would have any reasonable person’s eyes rolling. But then, the Thiab weren’t known for being reasonable. They were known for lynching mages.
“Whatever you might be able to glean about their healing practices,” Sanir said, carefully avoiding calling what the Thiab clergy did ‘magic’ (they preferred ‘miracles’), “it wouldn’t be worth risking your life or the other research you might accomplish here, given more time.”
“If I get to stay here.” Aru took a large swig of wine, enjoying the smooth, velvety feel of it in her mouth. “If they keep making me doctor for their stupid conflict, I won’t make any real progress for years.”
Sanir’s scowl tightened at the mention of the soldiers and their ‘non-combat’ uses for Three Lakes University. Turning from the window, he began to pace, long legs devouring the space in a few strides between each pivot. He waved one hand in the air distractedly, as if trying to dismiss his own frustration.
“How are things going with the boy?”
“Buu? We’re not learning as much as we’d hoped. The grimm is definitely smart enough to tell when he is in genuine distress, and we’ve gone about as far as we can, ethically, with that being the trigger.” Aru looked at the ceiling, remembering the panic etched into the child’s face as he kicked and flailed on the workshop floor. Taking another big gulp of wine, she added, “He did have a severe reaction to a healing spell, and some of our readings were unusual, but nothing that brings us to a conclusion.”
Sanir shot her a skeptical glance, picking up the wine bottle on his way past and topping up her glass. “Right, no conclusions, but surely there are theories…?”
Aru sighed, holding up a finger with each shot-in-the-dark option her and her peers had come up with. “Buryn thinks he might have run into a cursed artifact without realizing it, Ryoh believes the reaction and the grimm might have something to do with the boy’s low Thaum readings, and Tam thinks it’s likely some mutation in his lineage.”
“And what do you think?” Sanir asked, staring thoughtfully between his feet at the ornate carpet.
Aru took a moment to consider her answer, shuffling to sit forward. Whatever she said might have a large impact on Buu’s young life, and she wanted to choose her words carefully. She trusted Sanir, but some theories were best handled delicately until they could be proven.
“Well… with the information we have from our tests, I would think he might have a magically enhanced disease that negatively impacts his reaction to spells—”
Sanir cut her off, knuckling his eyes as he said, “Great. So my artificer thinks it’s artifice, my thaumaturgist thinks it’s thaumaturgy, my historian thinks it’s the boy’s history, and my physiothurge says disease. I’m glad everyone is branching out of their comfort zones.”
“However,” Aru pushed, ignoring the headmaster’s outburst, “I have information that the others don’t. I examined Buu at Red Birch, and I know about how his powers manifested.”
Sanir perked up, sudden intensity filling his stare as he pulled up a chair beside Aru. He sat too close, voice dropping to a whisper as he picked up on the conspiratorial tone of her comment.
“You have an alternate theory?”
Aru nodded. Even knowing they were alone, she couldn’t help but glance around to check for eavesdroppers. Breathing deeply, she took his hand for support, her throat trying to close around her words.
“I think… that is to say, it has come to my attention…” she shook herself, trying to reign in her growing apprehension. “… I think Buu might be a little bit dead.”
Sanir’s brow had barely finished rising when the door to his office flew open, Idah framed by its rich tones. She panted as if she had run across the entire campus, loose strands of hair falling carelessly across her pixie face.
“Come quick! I think Captain Riying is trying to get the grimm back.”