“On the ninth day, their weakened cries rose up to the heavens. Thus when the dawn broke on the tenth day, did the heavenly host set forth, atop steeds of golden and light, their radiant forms casting back the darkness. So it was on the eleventh day that darkness was scored from the land by flame and steel.”

  - Parable of Vegence, Church of Astralis

  “A calming spell, then a stasis incantation once the condition is stable, a sleep spell, and another incantation to maintain her physical wellbeing while the procedure is underway. Of course, myself and my apprentice can do so, but if your own spellcaster can be of any help that would lighten the burden of concentration.” Magister Holtzfeld pressed forward without a pause.

  Sigrid growled warily, her own sense of arcana far different from humanity’s. A secret that she worried would lead to far greater complications. Yana couldn’t hear her complaints from this far, but the fae could see, having hidden herself around the back of Hanabi’s hood. The fae whispered something to the outlander, who then cast a knowing look at Sigrid.

  “She’s still in training, but she can do what she can to help maintain the incantations.” Hanabi explained.

  Sigrid bristled at the insinuation that her skills were lacking but simply replied with a disagreeable tut.

  “Incantations?” The magister muttered, “Incantations are typically more advanced than single use spells.”

  “She was a, what did the church call them? The mages outside of the fold.”

  “The wayward? The apostates? Makes more sense. Whatever your… peculiarities I won’t question it. Apprentice Lanholt can help walk you through the proper procedures then.” He hand waved the issue aside.

  “Yes, magister.” The other mage replied.

  “Wait, wait. What about me?” Aryana squeaked, the girl seemingly finally gathering her wits.

  “What about you?” Magister Holtzfeld queried, “We’ve come so far already, it would be illogical for you to back out now.”

  “But you just said, you’d need to cut me open! That… that doesn’t sound-”

  “It's necessary to determine just how deeply ingrained within you the spirit is. Of course, should you vehemently disagree with the procedure you can always decide to not participate.”

  “W-what happens then?”

  The magister nonchalantly shrugged, “We call this matter to a close, I suppose. It’ll be a lost research opportunity for us and whatever spirit retrieval means to you and yours.”

  “Then-”

  “Don’t you dare.” A threatening growl came from nearby.

  Aryana physically wilted at the sight of Galen glaring at her.

  “We’ve all decided to come this far. For the good of the clan and yourself. You were the one who agreed to it in the first place.” He snarled.

  “I…I didn’t know what it would involve!”

  “We’re here now, aren’t we? Might as well just get it over and done with. You knew there'd be some sacrifice.”

  “You watch yourself, she’s free to choose whatever she wants to do. She’s doing your raggedy ass a service by just being willing to listen to the offer. Don’t make me regret it.” Sophia threatened as she stepped between the two.

  “Know your place, flamekeeper.” He spat the words out with great distaste, his lips curling in disgust, “We respect the hatires for their aid in keeping the mountains safe. But you, though you are named by the druids you have done nothing but steal away the future of the clans.”

  “A choice she made on her own.”

  “Of her own volition yes, to trade the future of thousands. Her security is granted to you through pity and lies.”

  Sophia’s leg braced itself, the elf resting a hand on her blade’s hilt. Sensing potential trouble, Hanabi stood up from her seat as well, though that was all. Her hand was merely placed on her hips. Sigrid let out a protective coo, giving Aryana’s shoulders a supportive squeeze. For a split second, she could see the small but wistful smile pass through Aryana’s face.

  “Only because people like you tarnished any chances she had of showing care by bullying her and ostracizing her from your own clan. Do you think she’s remained silent about those things this whole time?”

  Galen only continued to glare at the offending elf. But it was Tristan and one or two of the others whom Sophia’s words had cut into. Their looks of shame and regret, however brief, were more than enough to indicate that not all clansfolk were in full agreement. Not that it mattered if they didn’t bother speaking in Aryana’s defense.

  Sigrid wanted to offer the girl a comforting embrace, but knew it would likely embarrass her further and restrained herself.

  “For condemning all of us and our futures. For dooming us without…”

  The humans babbled on. The room growing increasingly tensed the longer they yelled at each other. Thankfully for her, Sigrid could at least discern the intentions of the mages. The one Aryana called Cassian showed flickers of concern at the escalating tension. The older mage merely looking disappointed by the ruckus. She could conclude that he at least cared little about the two sides and rather genuinely wanted to study Ary’s condition. For good or ill, that she couldn’t tell. But at least he didn’t seem to harbor hostile intent like the others.

  Sigrid let out a mournful howl that was drowned out by the arguments. Dejected, she just narrowed her eyes, hoping that someone would notice her displeased glaring. Then she felt a small stirring underneath her hand, the redhead was shuffling in her seat. The girl had completely forgotten about the supportive gesture as she fiddled with her braid, taking the time to meticulously clear out the few ice crystals still stuck to it.

  Ignoring the conflict in favor of the pensive girl, Sigrid decided to poke the nape of her neck. Aryana shrunk a little more, startled more than anything, The girl glared at her before realizing who she was, sad eyes replacing the anger that was there moments ago. Seeing this, Sigrid trilled supportively, giving her another playful poke of reassurance.

  She hadn’t intended much with the gesture but it seemed to spur something within the girl. Aryana raised her head and smiled at her. The girl straightened her breath and took a deep breath. Then she shot into the air like a bolt, her legs trembling slightly but her hands balled into fists.

  “Enough.” Aryana whispered, her shaky voice like a singular snowflake amidst a blizzard, lost and adrift.

  Sigrid cooed in support, though it was a token gesture. In truth, she did not want to draw the sorcerer’s gaze any more than she had too. Nor did she desire to garner any attention from the more hostile humans either.

  Hanabi did hear Aryana however, the outlander glancing over curiously.

  “Enough!” Aryana hissed, now halfway between a shout and just casual conversation. Yet it wasn’t enough, though Sophia did notice. The half elf immediately stiffening and trying to extricate herself from the fierce debate.

  Bolstered by the support of her allies, the girl’s posture changed into one that was more resolute, determined. Though she trembled, she had also become like a coiled serpent, ready to pounce. Sigrid smiled proudly at the reinvigorated Aryana.

  “Galen! Enough!” Aryana cried out once more.

  This time her shrill voice reached the room, her timid but commanding demeanor silencing the argument temporarily. The clan chief almost looked bewildered that Aryana dared to interrupt his tirade.

  “I’ll do the damned ritual. Not for you or the clan, but for my own sake.” She growled.

  “About time.” He sneered.

  Aryana mustered up enough courage to glower at him, the clan chief matching her gaze with a scowl of his own. With their distaste in each other established, the conflict seemed to be over for now.

  Sigrid let out a suggestive trill to proceed before things got worse. Though it was meant for Yana and Hanabi, the noise unexpectedly caught the sorcerer’s attention. He narrowed his eyes, but somehow pieced together her intent and grumbled thoughtfully to himself.

  “I see there are some issues to hash out, but enough of this. She says she is willing, so we shall begin.” Magister Holtzfeld declared.

  The mage turned to Sigrid, the mermaid let out a cautious squeak of approval, still too wary to associate herself with the human spellcasters.

  “Apprentice Lanholt, ensure the ritual circle is set up appropriately.”

  “As you command, magister.”

  “The rest of you beside the mage, get out of this sanctum.”

  “But-” Sophia moved to protest but was harshly cut off.

  “Your dispute threatens to ruin the space we’re in. Take your grievances outside at your leisure. But this area must be pristine and flawlessly maintained during the examination and extraction ritual. Both your presences disturb that balance. I will not say it again. Out.” Magister Holtzfeld commanded.

  His voice barely went above his usual speaking tone. Yet his stern delivery was one of an educator having had just about enough of an unruly class. There was a firmness that brooked no argument. No debate not questioning, a mere order that they needed to follow.

  Sophia and Hanabi searched Aryana’s face. The redhead replied with a half confident nod. Sigrid slinked closer to Hanabi, allowing Yana to discreetly transfer herself without being seen by the mages.

  Galen also looked to be on the verge of a protest, but the human called Tristan and another one held him back. Tristan flashing an unappreciated but acknowledged apologetic gesture at Aryana. With muttered curses and quiet disapproval, the clansfolk filtered out of the hall, Sophia and Hanabi in tow.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  It left Sigrid and Yana alone with the mages, and a far more doubtful Aryana in the middle. Sigrid reassured her friend with an encouraging trill, tacking on a few shriller notes that made fun of Yana. The fae pinched the back of her neck in annoyance, but Sigrid was victorious. She knew the faerie could not risk exposure by flying over to translate. Aryana simply looked pleased that at least someone she knew was still present. The girl found some small delight in Sigrid’s melodic tones.

  “Right then. Now that the distractions are out of the way, let’s get started. Apprentice Lanholt, please prep the mage. Miss Frostfyre, I know this is an odd request, but please work with us here. It will be a bit chilly but strip and lay flat in the center of the ritual circle.” Magister Holtzfeld’s stern demeanour shifted to one even more authoritative than his teaching tone.

  Aryana shifted uneasily.

  “Please, Lady Frostfyre. We need you to be sedated, then frozen in stasis. Your garments will delay our examinations and every second counts especially if we do not want anything going wrong. Understood?”

  “Y-yes.” Aryana diminutively affirmed.

  Sigrid naturally slinked over to offer some comfort, the girl instantly clutched at her hands, giving them a squeeze. Her eyes were dilated, widened in fear and anticipation. She looked to be on the verge of sweating despite the frosty sanctum. Her slight trembling now escaped from her legs to the rest of her body.

  “I… umm… Sigrid.” Aryana whispered.

  Sigrid trilled in acknowledgment, a soft intonation at the end to indicate her query.

  “Thanks for being here.”

  She cooed warmly, offering the clenched hand an encouraging squeeze of her own.

  The icy chill of reality sent shivers down her bones. She was both horrified yet too intrigued to look away. Across the canvas of purple and blue mana, a rainbow lay dotted haphazardly across it. Like her own eclectic collection of random human trinkets, they were an incomprehensible mess yet still exactly where they should be.

  A human was not exactly an unknown creature to her. Sigrid had seen a great many, splattered upon rocks, torn open by scavengers, or worse from sailors unlucky enough to have fallen to storms or the tides themselves and left bloated and broken. She had, before her own exile from her sisters and kin, had many such chances to examine their insides. She found them to be squishy and particularly bitter, though otherwise unremarkable.

  Now that she was faced with an eerily pristine specimen, she felt extraordinarily tense. Before her lay Aryana, her body completely devoid of clothing and surgically cut open. What should’ve been a beating heart, lungs and other such organelles were now preserved in a careful stasis. Trapped in this unnatural stillness where not even the blood within her moved. Her friend was now split open, somehow neither alive nor dead.

  The elder human mage had wasted no time in examining each and every inch of the girl’s innards. Hands casually picking up different parts of Aryana’s insides, only how they remained still connected to the rest of her could Sigrid tell that he wasn’t simply rifling through the body with abandon. Judging by how often his eyebrows seemed to arch, she surmised that he had seen more than a few irregularities. But whatever he discovered he kept to himself, sharing neither with her nor his apprentice.

  The apprentice mage cared not, too busy keeping the incantations functioning. She did occasionally glance at Sigrid, making sure the mermaid was doing her part. Sigrid had to restrain herself from scoffing at the doubt. Her own spell casting was beyond question, her only struggle was trying to blend in with the novice mage, to not appear overly proficient in her innate magicks.

  In fact, she supposed that her own skill was beyond even the senior magister’s given that he still hadn’t produced a conclusive report for the two. She could already make a relatively accurate guess, one that was shared by Yana assuming that the chill on the back of her neck meant frightful realization.

  Sigrid had lived long enough to recognize numerous different mana signatures. The realm of arcana had always been innate to her and her people. That’s why she already suspected something was odd, though was unable to notice anything out of place when she had first met Aryana after Sophie had brought her along with the rest of the humans. At the time, there were no indicators, no tell-tale signs of trouble.

  Now that she stared into her dissected friend, she could tell just how abnormally normal she was. Aryana was all she said to be. A hardy village child of a mountain clan. Her body was human, there were no doubts there. In fact, nothing of her body really stood out. Her soul too, was only human after all. What concerned Sigrid were the traces of different arcane signatures found throughout the girl’s various body parts. To Sigrid, it seemed likely that the ‘spirit’ they had all fussed over had genuinely been fused with Aryana.

  The most worrying thing was that the fused energy was dangerously sparse. That they had discussed Sophie ‘draining’ Aryana made this discovery all the more pertinent. She considered the possibility that Aryana had more vim and vigor before they’d met. That the girl now was a far weaker version of herself. Her calculations were now turned on their head. This ‘weaker’ version held the possibility of being the true self. Her lively nature being nothing more than a boon by the spirits of the world.

  So what happens if we remove it? She could practically sense Yana’s question, the fae’s anxiousness transmitted by the constant tapping on her neck.

  “How odd…” The magister muttered to himself.

  Sigrid quietly trilled a soft response to Yana, disguising it as her own frustrated mumblings. Can we even remove it?

  “Just how deeply bonded are they? I see nothing peculiar which in and of itself is peculiar enough. Or could this be a false positive? That there is in fact no bonding and that the patient is simply baseline?”

  Paitent, she wanted to snarl. He saw Aryana as nothing more than another subject to be studied. Trying to rid her mind of the thought, she watched as he continued to prod at her friend. She wondered if he would reach the same conclusion he did when she caught a brief flicker of movement by the doorway. The others were getting impatient.

  Her own internal clock stopped working when the first incantation began. They had likely tarried for far too long, and it wasn’t just them. Faint traces of mana seeped back into Aryana, they were running out of time.

  Magister Holtzfeld reached the same realization and cursed under his breath. His surgically precise but languid pace now picked up a little. Sigrid feared any errors could have lasting consequences and quickly trilled in alarm.

  Fortunately for her, the magister halted, his steely gaze landing upon her. Surprised that it worked, Sigrid remained frozen for a few seconds. She debated how to convey the message whilst being unable to speak nor sharing the same bond with him that she did with the others.

  When one needs to demonstrate feasibility, all thou need is to show capability. Yana quietly suggested.

  Sigrid searched her mind, still trying to maintain her facade of self styled human spellcaster without much experience. A basic spell was what she needed.

  With a little too much gusto, she drew upon the iced walls and forced out a small globule of water from the excess frost in the sanctum. Taking great care to avoid Aryana’s vicinity, she barely checked to see if the mages were watching when she made it take the shape of a heart. She then let it sit in the air, unable to hear what the mages muttered to each other beyond that their attention had been directed to it.

  She pointed from the water heart to Aryana’s body, hoping they would get the message. She then wiped the water heart against the floor, infusing it with some frozen particles and hopefully dirt. She frantically motioned to it, keeping her mind occupied with the stasis incantation to protect Aryana.

  The mages stared quizzically, clearly not understanding.

  Such was the human mindset in her eyes, oftentimes overthinking basic symbolism. She reformed the heart into a vein, letting little droplets of moisture run along inside it. A parlor trick to most, but hopefully a simple enough representation.

  “In her blood…? It's blended into her blood. No, it's blended into her already. This isn't a normal case for sure, by the Goddess.” Holtzfeld cursed.

  She then spat into her creation, taking care to generously ruin its insides with the spit before letting it all return to normal.

  For a moment, she saw the man frown and despaired. Then his eyes lit up before a more horrified expression overtook him.

  She trilled softly for cautiousness but he was already back to prodding at Aryana. With renewed vigor, he horrifyingly dug into her, his face practically touching her insides when his eyes glowed blue.

  With trepidation, she waited for a verdict.

  “How did you know?” He abruptly pulled away to ask. The man turned on his heels to glare down at her.

  Sigrid squeaked in fright, having not expected a question.

  “Whatever.” He dismissed the notion himself before she even had a chance to respond, “A matter for later. Right now we have a more pressing problem. What do we do?” He mused.

  Sigrid clicked her tongue curiously.

  “Lanholt, prepare the tincture and vessel, now.” He commanded.

  “But the incantations…”

  “Just go. Have faith.”

  “Yes, magister.” The dutiful apprentice affirmed once again.

  “You, maintain the incantations. I know you’re more proficient than you’re letting on.” He growled accusatorially.

  Sigrid wilted a little but did as she was told. She had been discovered yet Aryana’s safety was still her primary concern. She took to her task now without restraint, expertly able to keep Aryana in stasis and frozen. At least for a time.

  “Tsk. Now what? We know the cause and the ailment but the cure… how do we do this?” He grumbled.

  He then felt a spark of inspiration strike.

  “You, what say you? How shall we deal with her?” He motioned to Aryana, “Our time grows short and your deducations were unfortunately correct. The spirit is in her body and I can remove it.”

  She clicked her tongue excitedly.

  “But it is too entangled, the consequences I fear, might be severe. And that’s…” He paused, eyeing her warily, “Tsk, you are unsanctioned so it matters not. The procedure is not legal, nor is it established. At this level, there is no other case study that I can think of to reference.The spirit can be removed, but more than that might be damaged. What do you say about your friend’s condition? Do we remove it?”

  She trilled in alarm. Behind her, Yana’s tiny hands gripped the back of her neck tightly. The fae even more concerned than she was.

  The magister appeared almost annoyed at her sudden freeze.

  “We have until my apprentice is ready. So? What will it be?” He demanded.

  Sigrid cooed in confusion. She didn’t know what to do. She was here to help, that was all. What he was asking of her was too much. She did not want to be the one that decided someone else’s fate.

  What should I do? She trilled helplessly. Spirit removal was not something she was capable of, nor could she foresee all of the consequences that might befall Aryana afterwards.

  It’s a chance, but might be the last dance. Or move forward and forget, and hope there is no regret. Yana whispered.

  Sigrid let out a soft growl. The fae was dancing in-between both possibilities. Her advice was less than helpful.

  “Well it’s not like she can answer, can she?” Holtzfeld motioned to Aryana, a hint of exasperation in his voice, “Someone has to make the choice for her. You might last forever, but the ritual circle will not.”

  Sigrid looked towards Aryana. The girl’s serene expression almost made a mockery of the fact that her entire chest had been cut open. She tried to put herself in the girl’s place but failed. She knew that Aryana was purportedly doing this to free herself from burdening Sophie, potentially prolonging her own life in the process. But with how intertwined the spirit had become with her, Sigrid doubted the optimistic outlook. Much like the ritual circle that now glowed a fiendish dark purple. Exhausted mana.

  At best, this procedure would leave her severely crippled in some way. At worst, it could outright kill her. Neither were good options.

  “Too late to start doubting now. Do you think we’d have done the procedure in such a remote place if every factor could be accounted for without issue? The only difference now is that we either separate her, or don’t. The best time to address this would be whenever the hells she found the spirit in the first place.” Holtzfeld snarled.

  Sigrid whined. She was confident in most things. But this was beyond her.

  A choice we must make, or her body we must forsake, Yana chirped in her ear.

  Sigrid howled, annoyed at the sudden responsibility thrust upon her.

  “Better because of a friend than an enemy, right?” A new voice perked up.

  Sigrid squeaked in alarm to find Cassian staring firmly at her, a strange vessel in her hand.

  “To tell her whatever happened was because of the mountain men? Or to say that she did it for nobler causes? Or that she sacrificed all her courage for nothing to change? Which one do you think she’d prefer?” The apprentice asked, the vessel now passed into the magister’s hands.

  The man looked to Sigrid for an answer, just like his apprentice. In them she found no guidance, no idea of what was the best course of action. For them, Aryana was but an experiment, another job, nothing more. Even the apprentice's words rang hollow, though she still could see the meaning behind them.

  Sigrid closed her eyes. She turned her mind inward. How she had taken a chance to follow Sophie to join the world above. Found many fascinating things. Many archaic if charming traditions and behaviors. But it all stemmed from a chance to experience better and more exciting things.

  She sighed. Aryana would likely not have that same chance. She would only find more suffering on her path. Yet to deny her would be even crueler.

  Reluctantly, Sigrid nodded.