Kalie Rana

Of course, fate had something different in mind for me it seemed. The next morning, I awoke not to Maria’s cheerful voice, nor to another murky but lively morning outside, but to another bout of mana sickness. The only thought that went through my mind as Maria ran out of the room to go and retrieve the Petrel was a familiar one.

This again?

I remembered thinking it almost daily during my old life. Every single day was the same, and yet, it was just different enough—just torturous enough—that I could never really get used to it. In the end, I had nothing but disdain for the thought itself, because it did so little to help, and yet, I couldn’t help myself but think it.

After minutes of writhing agony, the Petrel finally arrived, and with her, the anticipation of relief began to cut through the pain emanating in waves from deep in my chest. As she reached my bedside, and I could finally see her pursed lips, and furrowed brow, I was confused.

“I’m sorry Little Bird, but I will not be singing to you today. At least, not yet.”

Help me, you bitch!

The internal venom flowed freely and quickly, despite this woman being the one steady source of relief since I arrived. There was no way to stop the vile thoughts; they were leftovers from another, more unjust life.

“Why? Please, it hurts.” When I finally spoke, the words were cracked, but lacked the flame of anger that I tried my best to extinguish. Her even gaze stared straight through me.

“Because, you must do something for me first.”

“What?”

“It’s simple, actually. Or it would be if not for this infernal sickness.” She placed a hand on my chest, right above the pain. My skin swelled to meet her touch, but found no relief. “Just focus on this.” She produced a long, white feather from her robes. Seemingly lighter than it should have been, the feather rested ever so slightly on her outstretched palm. “Move this, even a little bit, and I assure you, you will have relief.”

“Move it?” I asked through gritted teeth. The charade was almost enough for me to lose it, but I held my tongue. “With my hand?”

“The spirits, they’re here. Just reach out and tell them. Command the wind to take it for you.”

Assuming that whatever happened in the water was a communion of some sort with the spirits there, then I had no clue why the Petrel was expecting me to all of the sudden make the wind spirits do my bidding as well.

“I don’t know how. I don’t know the song.”

“You don’t need to know the words exactly. All that you need to do is reach out with the mana that is inside of you, and command it to move the feather. The words, the tune, they make things easier. But I know that you can do this Little Bird. The mana inside of you—your soul—it’s so full, right to your seams, that all you need to do is open up a little bit and it’ll do the rest.”

“I don’t know how!” The words ripped out of me as the pain reared its ugly head again. Anger so close to the surface that had I not been in so much pain, there was no telling what I would’ve done.

“Yes, you do! Just let the pain that’s inside of you out.” She grasped my hand tightly, enveloping it in a warmth that only grew as the moments passed. “Focus your pain, force it to find my hand. Imagine that you are forcing all of the pain out, into me.”

“I can’t!” The pain was everywhere, not subsiding. The expectation of relief that I had upon seeing her almost made it even worse.

“You can. Just focus. Remember, you are a majin.” The warmth in her hand flared with intensity. “Trust in yourself.”

Frustration.

If I had to pick any one emotion that dominated both my old life and this one, it would be that.

Frustration at my family, my mother.

Frustration at the fact that no matter what I did, nothing seemed to go my way.

Frustration that led me to throw myself at my studies, before becoming frustrated with them eventually.

Frustration at my illness.

Frustration at the fact that even though I woke up in another world, in a body fifteen years younger, I still couldn’t get away from feeling like absolute shit all the time.

And finally, most of all, I was frustrated that I was completely useless to help myself.

As I squeezed all the frustration I could muster into Kalie’s little hand, it almost felt natural as some of the tension seemed to slip into the Petrel’s. Sensing this, she released her hand from mine, instead leaving the feather in front of my outstretched arm. Despite the pain, I focused not only on the frustration, but on the moment of relief that I felt as it started to leave my body. Moments passed by as my anticipation grew and festered into frustration of its own.

It’s not happening. The relief, it’s not coming. I’m going to be in pain forever. I’m just going to die again.

As soon as the thought entered my mind, another followed close behind.

“You will not speak like that again. You will never think like that again. Promise me.”

It had been a day and yet I was so quick to forget the promise I had made to the king. To father. So I persevered, until finally something broke. Whether the crack was in my skin or in the fabric of reality itself, the frustration that had built up and compounded upon itself was finally released into the world. But, and I think this was to both the Petrel’s and my own surprise, it was not a gentle breeze, just enough to lift the feather from her hand.

Instead, as the emotion and pain streamed out of my body, it whipped up a gust of wind that pinned the feather to the door, then burst it from its frame. In an instant my eardrums popped the same way they would’ve during a flight. Unexpectedly, I gasped for air as the wind subsided.

Still standing despite the gust, the Petrel looked almost dumbfounded as she gestured toward the closed window. “Very, very well done Little Bird! That was…” responding to her call, another burst of wind slammed the glass open, refilling the air in the room quickly, “well, it was amazing!”

Catching my breath, I was finally able to speak.

“What was that?”

“That my dear, was majic. More specifically, the most basic of spells albeit a surprisingly powerful version—especially for a majin of your age. You used your internal mana reserves to directly manipulate the prime plane.”

“How did I do that? I didn’t even sing a song like you.”

“And the door paid the price for that now, didn’t it? I didn’t ask you to blast it clean from its hinges, I asked you to move the feather. Had you sung a song, or even hummed the tune of the song of creation, it would’ve been a much more delicate spell, I’d wager.”

“I’m sorry about that.” I apologized, then blinked with realization. Firstly, I just did magic. Honest to goodness magic. Secondly, and more importantly, I realized that I was no longer in pain.

The mana sickness had left.

“So, I take it you’re feeling better?”

“I am! How in the world—”

“You’ve learned to empty your core; now, any time that you feel a bout of your sickness coming on, you already know the best way to do so again. Just. Like. That,” she said, finally breaking from her regal demeanor, just enough to walk her fingers along my chest until they pressed down just above my still sore mana core.

“Just like that.”

Easy as pie. Not a worry in the world. Snap my fingers and boom, pains gone.

Huh.

If only I had something like this in my old life. A snap of the fingers, a destroyed door, and poof, no more cancer.

“Well, maybe not just like that, I doubt your father or your sisters would appreciate it if you continue to destroy these apartments. However, now that you know, you can see the other benefits of learning to control your power, can you not?”

“I can. It’s all… pretty amazing, if you ask me.”

“Well, that’s assuming nothing changes which, in life, is rarely the case. As you grow older and your core widens, so will your mana flow. Like these muscles,” she squeezed my thigh, “they will grow stronger as you use them. There’s the possibility that with time, it’ll take more and more for you to empty your core.”

“More? Like more majic?”

“Yes, at the very least. But, time will tell, and that is a problem for another day. For now, you should rest.”

“But grandmother—”

“Rest now my Little Bird.” She gently caressed my face before turning to leave. Only she stopped a few steps away and spun around, “oh! One more thing, I cannot express just how happy I am that I was right.”

“Right about what?”

“Your affinity. Both water and wind! Your first communion in the fjord was with the spirits of the inland sea, but with this, my prediction will most assuredly come true!”

“Prediction?”

“About you! I could sense it within you, but I know now, that you are the second coming of the greatest Petrel. The first Petrel.

“I don’t know about that, it’s a little too soon, don’t—” As if she couldn’t even hear my words, she continued on with her dire prediction.

“Within you is the power to rival the Roar of the Tide. You will be the most fearsome ruler of these Shattered Isles both Petrel and queen. No mere mundane emperor could ever stand in your way, if you so choose it. That is the future that I foresee for you, my dear Little Bird.”