Dinner proceeds uneventfully, with Aunt Julia directing the conversation. I listen quietly for most of it, only speaking when necessary. By the time dessert is served, the conversation has directed itself on Germaine’s art. People seem vaguely interested in me before they realize I’m the talentless son of Demetrius, at which time they tend to leave me alone.

At the end of dinner, Aunt Julia invites us to accompany her in refreshing the vital growth array. Germaine gives me a look, widening her eyes and pressing her lips together.

Yes, I know she’s on to me. It’s not my fault!

Aunt Julia leads us to what appears to be a service building. Upon entering, she immediately takes a staircase down and turns right at the fork. Filling the span of the entire underground hallway is the vital growth array, its power so potent as to be visible with the naked eye.

I freeze in place and hang back. I would normally have Death energy to center me in the presence of so much vitality; without it, I can already feel myself getting dizzy.

“Wow,” Germaine coos, crouching down and letting the pooling vitality stretch around her fingers like bubbles of green taffy. “This is what’s making everyone feel so good?”

Aunt Julia nods. “This hallway stretches around the perimeter of the main property.”

“How does it work if it’s just around the perimeter?”

Our aunt smiles. “The array only needs to be drawn in an unbroken circuit. The area within it–in this case, either the building’s cellar or even solid ground–will also produce vitality.”

“What do you think, Ian?” Aunt Julia says. I can practically see the gears turning in her head. “Don’t be afraid and come on forward.”

I can barely process her words.

“Uh, Aunt Julia, he’s strongly affected by the vitality, isn’t he? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Germaine asks.

Aunt Julia gives Germaine a stony look. “Don’t interfere.” She looks back toward me. “Come.”

I shake my head limply. “I’m feeling ill. I should go back up.”

“Fine. You stay there; Germaine, step back. I’ll just be a moment refreshing the array.” She holds out her hands at hip-height. A stream of vitality erupts from her palms and her eyes shine a viridescent green. The vitality streaks around the hallway like lightning over metal, blisteringly fast. I watch, dazed, as the energy circles faster and faster.

I gag and begin to sag against the wall, leaning on my right arm. I close my eyes, but the scene doesn’t go away: I can easily see the energy beyond my eyelids. I turn my face away and try to turn my whole body around.

Germaine rushes over and holds my free arm in concern.

“Aunt Julia, can’t you see he’s really ill?” she cries out. “You idiot,” she whispers. “It’s not worth it.”

But isn’t it? If I can’t even go to a single party without needing to use decemancy, it’s like I’ve become dependent on a drug. I should be able to get through this...even if it requires me feeling sick. If I give in just because the loop isn’t real, I’m not doing myself any favors.

I steel myself and walk toward the stairs. But just as I’m about to go up, something catches my eye. I see a seedling of Death energy hidden behind the stairs, behind two layers of walls, its energy signature mostly obscured. What is that?

I stagger up the stairs and wait for Aunt Julia to finish. Before she comes over, I whisper to Germaine, “There’s something hidden in the wall. Ask Aunt Julia if she feels anything weird coming from behind the stairs.”

Sensing something in my voice, Germaine’s eyes widen and she nods resolutely.

With a flash, the array grows dark; the procedure has finished. Our aunt saunters over, walking toward the stairs.

“Aunt Julia, I think I might have dropped something under the stairs,” Germaine says. “Do you, uh, see anything under there?”

I take in a deep breath. Germaine is a terrible liar. If I could just send out a little tendril of Death energy to inspect the seedling...

“No,” Aunt Julia says, crossing her arms.

Germaine groans and throws up her hands. “I give up.” She points at me. “You know what he is, right?”

Aunt Julia rubs the bridge of her nose. “Dear, I’m a Beginning practitioner.” She says this like it’s an explanation in and of itself. “My nephew has the most acute life sensitivity I’ve ever seen. Every other second he fidgets like he’s in withdrawal. There’s a web of vitality suspended around him. He’s subdued and doesn’t speak, like he’s afraid he’ll say or do something. Or because he’s concentrating on doing something else.”

I frown, annoyed that she’s so coldly dissecting my behavior. She’s right that I’ve been concentrating on something else, namely funneling death energy into the ground. It’s a deceptively tricky exercise: much finesse is required to manipulate so little energy.

“There are a few reasons why people might have life sensitivity. First, they’re born that way. Second, they’re suffering from some kind of curse or degenerative disease. Third, they’re a practitioner of opposite alignment. That is, they’re a decemancer.”

“As far as I know, my nephew is none of these things. So how is it that he suffers so?”

“You could have just asked me from the beginning,” I grumble. “Instead of acting like a sleuth.”

She ignores me and continues on. “The last explanation is that he’s been compromised by a death seed.”

I blink once, confused.

Germaine asks, “A what?”

“A death seed. Someone who has been implanted with a death seed will slowly be taken over by a malevolent spirit. The seed is attached to someone’s soul, and is discreet, barely detectable by even the most powerful Life and Death practitioners. After a few years, the person will be fully possessed by the spirit, their soul completely devoured.” She says this all in a quiet, steady voice.

I’ve never heard of a death seed. I suspect from the technique’s use of spirits that it comes from necromancy. Despite the fact that modern decemancy derives from necromancy, necromancy is fundamentally more ritualistic and mired in the occult, dealing with embodied souls and disembodied spirits. Contrastingly, decemancy’s domain is Death energy: even decemantic soul gems are just deposits of Death energy, so-named because they subtly carry the soul imprint of whatever creatures they derive from.

It seems like, at least for a time, Aunt Julia suspected me to be affected by a death seed. I feel a bit guilty for making her worry.

“Aunt Julia...” I murmur, my eyes flashing violet. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

I finally give myself some leeway to seize the vitality around me and convert it to familiar, grounding death energy. It’s easy to do so by drawing the energy into my body. While I can intentionally damage my own cells to quickly generate Death energy, the deluge of vitality allows me to do so without fear of injury.

She steps back, pale. “So...you really are a practitioner.”

I nod. “It’s a long story, but I didn’t plan on bringing it up here, tonight. Unfortunately, this vital growth array of yours has forced my hand.”

She shudders. “What happened to you to awaken your affinity?”

I avoid her stare. “We can talk about it later. But first...” I send out a thick vine of energy and make contact with the deposit of Death energy behind the stairs.

“Ian?” Germaine says, shaking my shoulder. “Hello?”

My countenance turns dark. “There’s a dead child behind the stairs.”

“A what?”

I clench my teeth. “A dead child! Can’t you sense it?” I point downward and saturate the area around the child with my own energy. “See it now?”

Our aunt grimaces and runs forward. “I see it, though it’s faint.” Her eyes momentarily flash green. “It’s only been dead for a few hours at most.”

“What do we do?” Germaine asks, sitting down on the stair steps. “I didn’t think there were any young children allowed into this party. Doesn’t that mean that this isn’t related to the family?”

“It’s not just a dead child, Germaine,” I spit in disgust. “It’s a sacrifice. There’s a small array of blood around it.” I wouldn’t have noticed the blood array from behind the walls, but I can detect it after probing the child’s surroundings.

I scoff cynically. “Someone’s decided to use your vital array as part of a blood offering, Aunt Julia. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Her face turns red with fury. “Nephew. Are you sure about this blood array? I can’t detect anything.”

I smile icily. “Positive.”

“Why are you only mentioning this now, after I’ve called you out?” she asks, clearly suspicious.

“If I knew about this, I would have told you immediately. But I didn’t see the energy signature until now. It’s well-hidden.”

Aunt Julia appears pensive. “There are at least three decemancers at this party. They should have noticed something.”

“Not with all the vitality flowing around,” I argue defensively. “I bet that all of them are distracted. Besides, like I said, the sacrifice is well-hidden, obscured by both earth, walls, and vital energy.”

“I should fetch Arno–”

“Don’t worry. I can take care of this.”

Aunt Julia looks at me with a tired expression. “I’m happy for you, Ian, that you’ve awakened an affinity. But with such a sensitive matter, I would feel more comfortable consulting Arno Dunai.”

Haven’t heard of him. “Is he a decemancer?” Germaine asks.

“He is.”

“What affinity?” Germaine continues, giving me a sidelong glance.

Julia pauses. “I’m not sure. But certainly over 50%.”

“With all due respect, I think you should trust Ian with this. You don’t know–”

Aunt Julia snaps. “Of course I don’t know, because he didn’t tell me!” She points a finger at me. “I can tell that you aren’t a complete novice, so you must have awakened your affinity at least over a year ago. Yet you never told me, never asked for guidance or support. I–” she stops suddenly, then takes a deep breath, regaining her composure. “What is your affinity?”

—

Julia Verina Dunai

So close to the vital growth array, the buzz of vitality made it difficult for Julia to hear her own thoughts. She knew that she was agitated and lashing out at Julian, but she was exasperated.

She knew that Julian had no clue how often she spoke on his behalf, defending both him and Germaine whenever the Patriarch mentioned “weak blood.” She knew that he was unaware that part of the favor she’d asked of Marcus Adricaius–the favor exchanged for the vital growth array–was that the two of them be invited to this overdone wedding-turned-family-reunion.

Yet he awakens power of his own, and hides it? Weak blood? Ridiculous. Is he ashamed that his affinity is low?

But for some reason, that explanation didn’t feel right. Julian was able to sense the sacrificial child from behind the walls, even with the obfuscation of vital energy. She would thus expect him to have an affinity upwards of 40%, which was more than respectable for someone of his age.

Something wasn’t adding up, so Julia let her Beginning affinity direct her intuition to better make sense of what she’d observed. In the span of a second, she retraced her steps over the course of the evening, seeing Julian’s behavior in a new light, trying to piece all of her observations together to form a coherent theory.

The results of her augury? Inconclusive, which was near impossible, unless...

She repeated the augury after discarding all prior knowledge regarding her nephew, treating him as if he were a stranger: Based on what she’d observed tonight, and tonight only.

“What is your affinity?”

Julian sighed deeply, then looked at Germaine.

“So much for trying, right?” He gave her a weak smile, then looked Julia straight in the eye. “You think you know, don’t you?”

“It’s impossible. There’s no way you could hide it for so long.”

“You’re right, it is impossible. That’s why I tried not to say anything or draw attention to myself.”

What does he mean, it’s impossible?

“Have you heard of a time dilation array?”

“Yes,” Julia replied, eyes narrowing. “Have you made use of one?”

“Yes.”

It feels ridiculous to assume, but...is it possible I was able to secure him a spot? She’d put in the request a few months ago, though had never heard back. Had they reached out to him individually, without informing me? Her mind rushed through numerous possibilities.

“...How long were you in it?”

Julian laughed, though it was a cheerless, self-mocking sound. “What if I told you that I was still within one?”

“I wouldn’t believe you,” Julia said dismissively. Of course I believe him, her rational side protested. Why would he lie?

“What is your affinity?”

“Over 99%, Aunty.”

Julia’s chest constricted. As far as she knew of the successful trials so far, no participants awakened to affinities in excess of 35%. She knew that the seemingly-low number was actually a stunning success: In a decade or two of diligent practice, such a practitioner could increase their affinity to over 50%.

“Believe it or not, it’s the truth.” He walked a few steps closer. “Do you understand, now, why I didn’t want to tell you here, in the middle of the party?”

“You should believe him about the time loop, Aunt Julia,” Germaine added. “After you deal with this...sacrifice situation, let him explain.”