Kalie Rana

As I left the eighth floor, the other majin trainers arrived. Four in total, each of the other majin were paired up with a master trainer who was also able to perform that same type of magic as themselves. They then would spread out between the eighth and ninth floors of the tower to not disturb—or destroy—each other.

I, on the other hand, was not as lucky. Unlike the other majin, my trainer wasn’t a previous student of the Petrel’s temple. Instead, I got the honor, and horror, of being directly a student of the Petrel herself. The value of matching majin apprentices with majin masters of the same magic affinity was essential, but rare when in a situation like my own. But, of course, that wasn’t an issue I had. Instead, the issue I faced was that my Grandmother, while a great woman and a distant but lovely grandmother, was a demon of a teacher. A fact that I was reminded of as I ascended to the tenth floor and entered the Petrel’s personal training dojang.

“Welcome.” That was the only word that the Petrel said to me before her song began. Of course, being only an apprentice, as well as only ten years old—as far as she knew—there was no way that I would be able to defend against any true spells that the woman was going to throw at me. But, this particular spell was one that I was familiar with. In fact, it was the very first one that I had ever witnessed, the night that I woke up as Kalie.

A mana drain.

So, while a more tempered version of the spell could be used as a cure for mana sickness, the true form of the spell was more like a siphon, linking the mana core of the majin singing the spell, and the poor fool on the receiving end. This spell, like most spells had multiple uses of course, and multiple ways of hitting as well. So, rather than a direct attack where it felt like she punctured my sternum with a giant straw before sucking my insides out, that particular morning, she insisted on a full room mana drain. Within a few moments of her song beginning, the air of the room felt thin. While I could still breathe, it was like all the oxygen was stripped of its value to me. I wasn’t a biologist in my previous life, but I knew more than enough to know that wasn’t possible, but it was close.

Closing my eyes, I could “see” the mana of the room thinning out. The second sight my training as a Majin had given me was more like an intuition than the true sight that the other Majin talked about. Although it was lackluster, it was enough for me to suss out the few remaining patches of dense mana in the room. I’d need them if I was hoping to survive.

While she only gave me seconds to respond to her song, she gave me even less time to react to her physical attack. Propelled along the reed mats by the wind itself, she threw herself at me, her hands slowly taking on the shine of water, as she covered them in liquid.

Without any other options, I threw myself to the side, avoiding the first rush but going in the opposite direction of the mana pocket. The years of physical training came in handy as I rolled as I hit the ground, allowing me to get my feet back under me without missing a step. The few feet of distance between the Petrel, her water blade, and my back was not one that I was going to take for granted. Although I still was ignorant to the vast majority of songs, there was a single spell that I knew. The simplest of them all.

Manipulation.

While I couldn’t conjure water from thin air like Grandmother, I could make what water I had do what I wanted, and it was serendipitous that I still had my water skin on my hip. As I opened the top of the flask, I began to reach out with my simple song.

When I was first learning magic from the Petrel, the weight of my twenty-five years of being a skeptical adult made me a difficult learner.

“Our songs are not just words, my Little Bird. No, they are the words of Leona. The songs of creation. Sung in the language of the spirits; the bones of the world. Weaved together by the emotion of the majin. In a word; a prayer.”

The idea itself was simple enough to manage, in our songs we were singing the words of the spirits, essentially, asking them to do certain things by changing how the song is sung. Different things contained different kinds of spirits, which came in a range of sizes. The best way that I was able to fully understand it was by putting it through the lense of my old life. Spirits, and the mana particles that made them up, were basically non-physical elements—like a periodic table, not Aristotle—and when these spirits came together, they were able to create some sort of reaction. The only flaw in this little bit of understanding was that certain spirits could become sentient. That was where the vast majority of my understanding began to unravel, no matter how many times I thought it through.

The one good thing however, was that because I was paying attention in some of my science classes throughout school, I remembered a few things from physics and chemistry. Mostly, I remembered how things got hotter and colder.

For most majin manipulation magic was the most simple of simple spells, one that could only be used for simple utilities. For a majin who had a basic understanding of thermodynamics, and an intensely pressing issue only a few feet behind them looking to take them out, it had the ability to become something more.

With my focus fully on the water that I had drawn from my flask into my hand, I began to focus on the mana particles within the ball of water. While I wasn’t exactly sure how I would put it if I needed to explain every little aspect of what I wanted the little microscoping spirits to do, that wasn’t what I needed to do.

I turned to face the Petrel who was taking the long way around the room gliding above the floor, still draining it of any ambient mana. At that point, as she came straight for me, her arm had become a katana of whitecapped water.

All I needed to do was feel what I wanted the water particles to do. And what I wanted them to do was become as still as possible.

As still as ice.

I sensed that it was finally ready, just as she came into range.

With a final burst of intense song, I propelled the shard of ice at her as fast as possible. As an afterthought, the idea of launching a dagger sized blade of ice at an old flying magic lady was probably not the best look for a twelve-year old. But, on the other hand, I was squealing with pyrrhic delight as the Petrel’s water blade encircled my neck, and the song of her mana drain blasted me fully, draining me of my energy.

That’s it. Sub-zero was a water majin. At the very least, I’ve got that.

In a blink, the Petrel’s song was over and the feeling was returning to my extremities. Her raging blade of water was also nowhere to be found. “Well done!”

Lively as ever, Grandmother had taken a few steps away from me, allowing me to pull myself up from the reed mats. As she turned around she held the crystal clear shard of ice in her hands. “This is very impressive Little Bird! You must tell me though, how were you able to transmute the water like that without a spirit?” she said, playing with the quickly melting blade of ice. “Also, why in Leona’s name is it hot?”

“That’s a great question!” I said, as if I had an answer that would even begin to make sense. “One that I don’t really have answer for. Leona willing, maybe?”

“Ah, I see,” she said looking into the clear nub that was now in her hands.

As far as I could imagine, I was able to push all the energy from the center of the water mass into the outer film of it. Essentially creating a shard of ice covered in a thin layer of hot water. Since I wasn’t disrupting physics anymore, the heat in the water was quickly finding its way back into the ice.

“Well, let me say, I am very happy to see that you are progressing so quickly! It seems that my judgement wasn’t wrong. You really are shaping up to be the next greatest majin on the isles.”

“That is because of you Grandmother. All because of you.”

And then some. Who knows how much genetics plays a part in majin heritage, but I’d wager more often than not, a powerful majin makes a powerful baby majin.

“Never have I had such a quick study though.” That was a lie, but a kind one. While I wasn’t particularly good at learning the spells, the knowledge of my old life came in handy. “Maybe it was a portent of divine will that you were stricken with mana sickness so young. Directed by Leona and the others above, they sought you out and laid a challenge at your feet. One that you are meeting time and time again Little Bird.”

I didn’t know anything about the gods, or Leona, but she was more correct than even she knew. The fact of the matter was plain to me, if not for this damn mana sickness nipping at my heels, constantly forcing me to learn more, practice more, push myself more, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to keep this all up. Hell, I almost failed out of my master’s program, and that was only getting a business degree.

“But, I have news. Some good, and some bad.”

“What is it?”

“The Emperor of Holaria is dead.”

“Dead? How is that possible?” The emperor of Holaria, was in essence, the emperor of the mainland. While there were several scattered kingdoms and other sovereign states that resisted the all encompassing rule of the man and the behemoth that he helmed, none lasted long as his enemy. None, but the Petrel, and the kingdom of Cerith that she defended.

“He was struck down by the Ravencourt Rebellion. I’m sure that you’ve heard of it?”

“Of course I’ve heard of the Ravencourt.” A populous rebellion, led by a masked cabal. To me, the idea of a bunch of peasants being led by some faceless aristocrats read as more of a change of hands rather than a people’s rebellion. The only thing that I hoped was that I was wrong. “How did they do it? Did the people of Hol Sogra finally raise arms and storm the castle?” I asked with a laugh. Hol Sogra, the capital of Holaria, was largely untouched by the rebellion as far as I knew. More castle and castle town, the idea of the people of Hol Sogra rebelling was laughable. Every person in that place worked for, and was loyal to, the emperor.

“The city of Hol Sogra is no more.”

“What? How is that even possible?”

“Last night, the emperor was holding a feast commemorating Unification day. At the height of the night, the ground surrounding the castle split open, and began to swallow the castle whole. At the same time, the great gatehouse of the city, and several large sections of the walls were collapsed by the same magic.”

“How in the world would a majin be able to do this sort of thing?” Not even a majin as powerful as Grandmother would be capable of doing something of that magnitude.

“Well, either there are many powerful majin within the Ravencourt who have gathered power at the cost of their own lives, or…” Grandmother stopped herself from continuing. The harried look in her eyes drew powerful memories of my old life back to the surface. The stress of her long years was becoming more and more visible on her face, burning through her paradoxically cheerful expression. “I fear that they have made a terrible deal and the consequences will be felt around the world.”

“Consequences? How so?” My question seemed to cause even deeper lines of worry to form on Grandmother’s face.

“This kind of power. I fear that it may be a Spirit—” Her explanation was interrupted twice simultaneously. On one side, by rasping at the dojang’s door. On the other, and more paradoxically, by an eerie howl of wind screaming out from behind the heavy stone doors that led into Grandmother’s bedroom. Her attention broken from me, the Petrel glanced back toward her bedroom before fully turning her attention toward the dojang’s door. “Enter.”

“Master, word from the palace.” The attendant was accompanied by someone I had never seen in the temple before. Maria. “His highness has requested your presence at the palace.”

“Lady Kalie, he has asked for you as well.”

“Of course he has. We will be there soon enough. And no need to worry, I will accompany my granddaughter,” Grandmother said, waving the attendant and Maria off. Dutifully, they closed the door behind them. “There’s no doubt that he is planning on discussing the situation on the mainland. The only thing that I ask, is that if he suggests that you scale back your studies as—”

“There is no power in the heavens or on earth that would stop me from continuing to learn from you Grandmother.” Hearing this, at least a small portion of the weight of her worry lifted from her shoulders. She reminded me of the grandmother that I only ever knew through the photos my mother hid at the back of her drawers. More so than just being able to continue living the life stolen from me for these last few years, the one thing that I was truely, truely, thankful for, was that I was able to get closer to this woman. It was through her that I was not only able to learn more about this world, and this magic that I suddenly found myself empowered by.

But, better than any of that, I rediscovered what it was like to be loved again.

“I know there wouldn’t be Little Bird. But, I don’t want you to be doing this for the wrong reasons. The one thing that you need to remember is that a powerful woman is never a welcome sight in the courts and kingdoms of the world. But, at a certain point, your power, the one in here,” she said resting her warm hand on my head, “will become more than any other. I know this, without a shadow of a doubt. All that is left for you to do now is prove me right.”

“I will do my best grandmother.”

“I love you my Little Bird.”

“I love you too grandma.”