There was a fluidity to the fire that Aristide controlled. It moved differently than Nerluce's fire usually did and both of theirs moved differently than Taayir's.

Nerluce had never really noticed that before. However, when he saw it, he couldn't stop seeing it. Aristide took control of the flame with barely more than the flick of two fingers. Like a conductor, he guided the fire effortlessly through the air. It almost looked like a stream of water. There was definitely a liquid quality to the flame. Some of it even dripped down to the floor - stone, thankfully - and disappeared with a sizzle or puff of smoke.

It was amazing to watch. Nerluce had never seen fire magic performed like that. He was sure that if any of his old masters saw it, they'd throw a fit and say that Aristide was doing it wrong. Only, Aristide wasn't doing it wrong. He was doing fire magic his way and according to Taayir that was the only right way to do it.

When the transfer of flame came, Nerluce braced himself. With all of his muscles tensed he watched the fire and Aristide all at once. He reached out to the fire in his mind, waiting, waiting, waiting until... Aristide exhaled and his control of the fire was loosened into nonexistence. Nerluce caught the fire and started moving his arms, reeling the flame closer to him with all the effort in his mind and body.

The transition was, too, fluid. When fire changed masters, it didn't change forms right away. The flame dripped a bit more before it became more solid and spindly and quite a bit slower. Nerluce didn't know how to describe the way the flame looked like when he controlled it. It wasn't as fluid as Aristide's fire and it wasn't as free as Taayir's and it wasn't as controlled as Coam's.

Nerluce felt as though his magic was flexible. It changed directions with even the slightest gesture. It wasn't controlled but at the same time, it was. It was chaotic but it had rules it needed to follow. And the only one that knew those rules was the flame itself. Of course, all of this was an illusion. The way fire looked didn't change it from what it was.

Fire was fire and it burned no matter if it looked like a stream or a vine.

Nerluce pushed and Aristide was there, waiting to catch the flame and it morphed back into the more liquid fire. Aristide took the fire to about the center of his chest before his face contorted into something akin to a glare.

"Stop doing that," Aristide said.

"Doing what?" Nerluce asked, bracing his body to catch the fire when Aristide... there. The fire became his again.

"That," Aristide said. "You're waiting for it."

Nerluce frowned and pushed the fire back to Aristide. "What does that even mean?" he asked. "Of course I'm waiting for it. If I wasn't then it would die out."

"I haven't improved at all," Aristide said. "You're..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're being too flexible. Stop."

"Too flexible?" Nerluce echoed.

Aristide nodded and released the fire. Nerluce was there to catch it. "I should be learning to hold the fire. You shouldn't have to be waiting for me."

Well... sure. The first couple of rounds they'd made quite a few mistakes getting used to one another but now the transfer was seamless. They'd been passing this flame around at least a hundred times. Nerluce didn't know why Aristide would be complaining about the fact that they were succeeding.

"It's normal to adapt to different partners," Nerluce said.

"Normal for you," Aristide said. "Less for me. Impossible for those with a primary fire Affinity."

"What do you mean?"

Aristide closed his eyes. It was rather impressive, considering he managed to take the flame from Nerluce when doing so and then hand it back to him. His entire turn... without being able to see the fire at all... Nerluce's heart spiked with envy. He wanted to be able to do that. Maybe he could get Aristide to teach him? Later. After they finished with this. Even the most experienced magickians struggled to keep their control without a direct line of sight.

Aristide really was amazing.

And then he opened his mouth. "Water can change to suit whatever container it's in. It can be change forms and a water Magickian won't lose any control. It's because of these things that water Magickians are considered the most adaptable. They can fight in any climate and under any conditions."

"I know," Nerluce said. They'd talked about that in Magickal History.

"I am a river. An old river," Aristide said. "I have cut through stone. I have made a path." He closed his eyes. "It's hard to divert a river. Hard but not impossible."

"So you're having trouble learning new types of magick?" Nerluce asked.

Aristide nodded mutely.

"And it's impossible for fire Affinity Magikians because... there's only one way that fire knows how to burn."

"Right," Aristide said.

"And me..."

Humming, Aristide nodded again. "Your primary Affinity is life. More specifically, plant life. Did the High Priestess tell you that?" Aristide asked. Nerluce shook his head. "Plants are extremely adaptable. They'll grow anywhere they can." Aristide passed the fire to Nerluce and Nerluce caught it. "Especially when there's water nearby." Aristide sighed. "Plants grow by rivers. Not the other way around. I don't know why Taayir sent you."

"Because we're good at this," Nerluce said, pushing the fire back. "She probably knew all that fire and plant and water stuff and knew that we'd make a good team." Nerluce pushed the fire and Aristide caught it. "We've been at this longer than anyone in my dorm."

"Really?" Aristide asked.

Nerluce nodded. "Yeah! The record for two people is me and Lyana and we passed it back and forth for about... one hundred rounds. Then it's me and Hamelin. We were about ninety." He grinned. "We're almost at five hundred. I bet we can make it to a thousand if we wanted."

Aristide considered this as they passed the flame back and forth.

"I still want to learn to... hold it," Aristide said, lips pursed. "Like Taayir was saying. Something about gold in a marketplace... or maybe bread would be better..."

"Use whatever you want," Nerluce said. "I like thinking of it as tossing and catching something."

"That's nothing like water at all," Aristide said.

However, after just a few rounds, Nerluce felt a difference in Aristide's style. It seemed more forceful as if he was launching the fire at Nerluce. Nerluce caught it, but he felt his body flinch. He wouldn't be able to keep this up. Only... he really wanted to get to a thousand so he couldn't let Aristide keep on like this. He only seemed to be getting more and more forceful.

"Try making it a little lighter," Nerluce suggested. "Like tossing something in the air. Make it float."

"Sounds like air Magick," Aristide commented.

However, since neither of them had ever studied air Magick - or at least Nerluce didn't think that Aristide had studied air Magick - nothing else was said. Slowly, the quality of Aristide's movements changed once again. They became high and floaty and easy to catch. Nerluce grinned and nodded.

They kept passing the fire back and forth like that, just getting used to this new catch and throw motion.

"What was it like for water Magick?" Nerluce asked.

"Tides," Aristide answered instantly. "They told of us to think of it like the tides. Push it out and then pull it in."

"That makes sense," Nerluce said.

And then he changed his style. Aristide faltered when it happened. The push instead of the toss. And then a pull instead of a catch. His eyes narrowed at Nerluce who beamed at him. Honestly, Nerluce was just proud he'd managed to make the fire do as he wanted it to. And... at the same time... he was letting Aristide see why it was so hard for someone to catch a push and why it was hard for him to pull a throw.

Aristide caught on quickly enough and gave a small nod. Nerluce stopped pushing and pulling and went back to catching and throwing. They must've gone a hundred rounds in silence like that before Nerluce started talking. He didn't do it out of any inner cruelty. Talking focused him and if cleaning the stables was anything to go by, Aristide was plenty capable of focusing with Nerluce's chatter in the background.

"Aristide?" Nerluce began.

Aristide hummed.

"Why... why did you get so upset when Taayir told you to think of the magic as bread?" he asked. Nerluce had been thinking about this since it happened but... he couldn't find the reason to take that so personally.

"Taayir was mocking me," Aristide said.

"Oh," Nerluce said. And then he frowned. "Why is bread mocking-"

"I grew up on the border," Aristide said, cutting Nerluce off. There was a sharpness to his tone. A coldness. However, maybe it was because Aristide was focused on the magic, or maybe the magic was focused on him, it wasn't as sharp or cold as it usually was.

Regardless, Nerluce pushed on. "So?"

A small sigh escaped Aristide's lips. "It's mockery, Nerluce, because Taayir was suggesting I never had coin as a child so I wouldn't understand it's worth." A small smile appeared on his lips as he shook his head. "She's right and I think that's why I was so upset."

"Oh," Nerluce said. "When you hatched from your peach... I guess there were no kind, childless farmers to take you in."

"No."

Nerluce's frown deepened. Aristide... Aristide seemed to have had a very sad childhood. However, Aristide didn't seem sad about it himself. He instead wore a small smile and hooded eyes that just looked... tired.

"I have some sympathy for your friend, Lyana," Aristide said.

"Lyana?" Nerluce asked.

"I was... rescued by the High Priestess as well," Aristide said. "Though, she wasn't the High Priestess back then. Just Honami. Honami Sasaquī." He looked up at Nerluce. "Sasaquī. That's your answer."

"To what question?" Nerluce asked.

"My family name."

"Oh." And... oh.

Several things came into place rather quickly. Aristide had lived on the border. Aristide hadn't had any money. Aristide was either an orphan or abandoned or he was just taken from his parents at such a young age he couldn't remember them. Aristide was taken. That's what Lyana had said. Rescued from their homes because of their immense magickal potential. Aristide had taken the High Priestess's name.

Was it because he was grateful that she'd taken him away from the poverty and war on the border? Was it because he had never known any other maternal figure? Or was it something else that Nerluce couldn't even begin to comprehend entirely. All Nerluce was certain of was that there was definitely more to Aristide than what first met the eye.

And he was beginning to understand why Aristide held such a dislike for Eden and Coam and Nerluce himself.

Finally, Nerluce sighed and looked up at Aristide with his own tired eyes. "I'm sorry," he said and meant it. He meant it so much more than Aristide would ever know. He was sorry for everything that he'd ever done to antagonize him. He was sorry for everything he'd ever said to tease him. And Nerluce was just... sorry. Sorry for Aristide. Sorry for Itoroh. Sorry for Tilica. It wasn't fair.

But war never was.

"For what?" Aristide asked.

And Nerluce was most sorry for this. Aristide tossed the fire but Nerluce didn't catch it. He let it choke without a master. He looked Aristide dead in the eye when he did so.

"Nine hundred and ninety-nine." Then Nerluce smiled. "I'll come back tomorrow and see if we can get up to a thousand!"