Aria’s concern was the first thing I heard as I shuddered awake, a repeat of the previous mornings. I sighed. The last few nights were something else than what I was used to. Sometimes I’d break out in cold sweat. Sometimes I’d have nightmares of that dying—dead—man. Sometimes I dreamt of nothing, and I would still wake up in the middle of the night feeling like I needed to gulp the air around me to breathe.
It had been a few days since our skirmish at Oakhenge and not a single inquisitor sprang out of the bushes to attack us. It might’ve seemed like a good thing, but the unrelenting calm caused the feelings stewing inside me to fester. I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t know what to ask of Aria, and I didn’t know what to say to Caen.
There was no reason, just a gut feeling that things weren’t right. Why would things be right after what Aria pulled in the town? She shouldn’t have been able to do that. Her eyes didn’t look like that. You don’t kill someone and never talk about it. I don’t know you.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Where’s Caen?” Aria pointed to the forest. He was getting firewood.
Aria was reading that book of hers. I could tell it was the same book, because it always had the same silver-green spine. I’d seen her read that thing at least three times over. I didn’t know what she got out of it, but she would read for hours on end if we let her. Other times she’d read for twenty minutes, then start bugging us saying she was bored. Maybe it was a church text?
“You’ve been avoiding me the last few days.” She closed the book with a soft puft as she got up. Her gemlike eyes reflected the campfire in front of her. I instinctively wanted to scurry away and lecture her about personal space. Wait. When did I ever care about personal space around her?
“I guess I have been.” I let out a nervous chuckle as she approached. She was right in front of me now, staring me down. “Caen’s been training me to get the hang of a war axe, so maybe I’m just tired?” I could tell from her eyes that she didn’t believe me. Her eyes narrowed, approaching closer still as I found my back pressed up against a log.
“Charlotte.” She sighed, giving me space. “I’m going to drop the cute act and be frank. I know something changed that day when we ran through Oakhenge. In fact, I don’t mind just paying you and dropping you at the nearest town if that’s the case.” Her voice was sad rather than the chipper pitch she enjoyed. Aria’s eyes quivered, almost as if she wanted to cry.
“I just want you to be happy.”
“Aah, no no, I’m not asking for that.” I frantically waved my hands apologetically as she breathed a sigh of relief. Dropping me off at the next town wouldn’t answer anything. Besides, even if I didn’t know anything yet, I still liked Aria.
“There’s just a lot of questions bumping around my head. I watched you drown someone. On land! And you waved it off like it was nothing. Also, it’s cool that you can be more mature and shift your voice like that…no, that’s it for that last one. You should speak in mature-Aria voice more.” I watched as Aria let out a blushy giggle, returning to her chipper tone.
It was still something to get used to, but I continued. “I’m sorry. I know you saved my life, and I should thank you for that. I just…you know,” I blurted out as Aria sat on top of the log to match my height, her silver hair fluttering in the soft winds.
“Aah…I messed up there a little bit, didn’t I…” Her voice gave me the feeling that she’d been here before. Maybe with a person just like me.
“You’re probably going to hate me, or kiss the ground I walk on. That’s what happens every time.” She shifted on the log before stretching her legs out, warming her boots by the fire.
“Actually I think you’re a bit of a brat sometimes…” I didn’t even have time to finish my sentence. She stood up, the campfire giving her jewel-like eyes a furious red tinge. A switch as fast as every other.
“Brat? Just because I like having fun and acting cute does not mean I’m a brat.”
“I was going to say ‘until you use that mature voice of yours,’ but fine. Keep being a brat.” I leaned back on the log with a smug grin on my face. Ooh, this log did not actually feel good to lean on, but it made me look smug and that’s all that matters.
“I’m not a brat,” she repeated. I watched her take a deep breath and unclench her fists. “Unless you define liking head pats and being cute bratty. Then that’s fine.”
Her voice had returned to her normal tone. She had her arms crossed now and a playful pout that made her look more adorable than angry.
Seemed like I got her attention at least, it was now or never. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, what happened with you back there? When you killed that person?” I shuddered as I tried to blank the thought in my mind.
“Oh! I’d have to explain how magic works though, and that would be complicated.” She said as she tapped a finger across her lips. I let out a dismissive wave. Better to know than not to know, and besides, it would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to hear magic straight from the source.
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind that. It might settle my mind a bit.”
She nodded, a cheerful grin returning to her face.
“Okay, I can do that! But we need a starting point…What do you know of the church and religion?” She sounded excited to talk about this stuff.
I stroked my chin. “Okay. I know that there were the Trinity, and that they’re three dragons that brought peace to our world, then became gods. We haven’t seen any dragons since. Mages are the ancestors of people that made pacts with dragons. Sometimes they’re leaders of the church, unless they’re not?”
Aria stared at me as if I was illiterate but didn’t say anything as I spoke again.
“Have you seen our church?” I tried to explain my ignorance on the topic. “That thing hasn’t had a priest for decades! And it’s not like the church sent a replacement because we’re out in the middle of nowhere. So it’s not my fault.”
Aria nodded. “Good point,” quickly gathering her thoughts. “You’re right, you’re right. Guess I should start from the beginning.” She clapped her hands together as she took a deep breath. Was this a religious thing? I couldn’t tell.
“Magic has two parts. The offering and the origin. As you could’ve figured, my origin is from Cestra, and thus I command water.”
I nodded. Cestra was the big dragon of the three, since she was the one that began the royal bloodline and created Mithil Castle. Almost every church is built in her honor.
“The second would be the offering,” Aria continued. “A mage is required to offer parts of themselves to conduct their magecraft…so in my case I would wither like a raisin if I used too much magic.”
I shuddered at the thought as she talked about it like I would talk about stubbing my toe.
“Don’t worry. I make sure not to overdo it.”
“Okay, sure. But there’s a lot more to being Pact Mages, right? Aren’t you the leaders of the church? Can’t you hear the voices of the dragons?”
Aria rubbed her temples, almost as if she was not prepared to go this into depth. “I thought you didn’t know much about us,” she grumbled, arms crossed with an annoyed frown.
“I don’t. My sister-in-law just so happens to write fantasy books, so I get exposed to a lot of the weird unconfirmed rumors.” She had agreed to answer my questions, so I was going to throw some dumb ones at her just for good measure. It didn’t help I had a stupid grin on my face.
“Well it’s good to know those secrets are out in the public.”
Oh. I was expecting her to tell me I was an idiot for believing everything I read.
“It depends on the Pact Mage. Some, like me, are very close to their Origin Dragon. We call them Father or Mother for short. Others not so much. The law of equality means that all Pact Mages are magically equal, even if we don’t all hear Mother’s voice.” I could tell she was passionate about this part of being a Pact Mage, with how she smiled and her eyes glittered as she talked. She wasn’t even looking at me, instead staring longingly into the sky above.
“So the water choke thing…” I pointed out as she snapped back into reality.
