Chapter 111 Mage Quarter Part 2
For a moment, Daisy thought he had failed. Then the shadow at his feet moved, and a perfect copy of Oliver stepped out, walked in a circle, and merged back with him. When it did, the real Oliver stumbled back, gasping for breath. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he swayed, feeling a wave of dizziness. These symptoms were reminders that the magic’s spectacle had a very real cost, grounding the extraordinary in tangible consequence.
Reacting quickly, Daisy moved to Oliver’s side with a calm yet urgent demeanor. “Just breathe, Oliver,” she instructed softly, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. She signaled for Delia, whose healing abilities could counterbalance such magical exhaustion. Delia approached, and as she held her hand near Oliver’s injury, a thick white mist began to emanate from her palm, enveloping him in its gentle flow. The mist, infused with her healing magic, drew upon residual energy in the air to reknit torn skin and accelerate the restoration of his depleted strength. Oliver inhaled the slightly sweet scent characteristic of Delia’s magic, and a cool sensation spread through his body as fatigue gradually eased. Within moments, his breathing steadied and his balance returned, offering reassurance to the watching apprentices about the importance of swift recovery measures.
“Shadow veil,” Daisy said, impressed. “You doubled your presence.”
Oliver grinned, a little wild. “No one can catch a ghost.”
Samuel’s pen scratched faster.
The lessons lasted into dusk. Daisy practiced the patterns with the apprentices, fixing their hand positions, adjusting their stances, and repeating the mantras until her throat hurt. One of her favorite mantras, ‘Feel the flow, find the balance,’ resonated as she guided each movement with precision. This phrase became a touchstone for the apprentices, an easy reminder of the importance of harmony in their magic practice. Samuel watched over the outer circles, advising and pulling back anyone who got too ambitious. Delia moved among the healers, her blood-mist drifting behind her, patching up nicks and burns and the rare magical backlash.
As the moon rose, the training felt almost unreal. The air was heavy with the smell of ozone and flowers, and every breath felt electric. Daisy worked with Oliver in a side yard, where the old grass was now marked with blood trails and glowing symbols.
He was improving. Each time they joined hands, the magic flowed more smoothly, as if their patterns matched. Daisy guided his movements, tracing the veins on his wrist and showing him where to press. She felt his pulse under her thumb, fast but steady.
“Try again,” she murmured, close enough to smell the smoke on his shirt.
He did, this time forming a narrow corridor of darkness between two columns. He walked the length of it, then reappeared on the other side, looking a little dazed but triumphant.
She grinned, genuinely. “You’re a quick study.”
He looked at her, then took her hand. Their fingers laced together to hold. Daisy felt her cheeks grow warm, the heat of nervous energy sparking an involuntary tremor in her grip. When she let go, her hand lingered, caught between the desire to cling and the instinct to pull away, staying for a moment longer than needed, betraying an inner conflict she couldn’t quite control.
From the roofline above, a shout echoed. “Heads up!”
Xeris stood on the old manor roof, with two of the city’s best archers and a group of eager teenagers who had more courage than sense. He looked human, but his posture showed the dragon in him: chin up, legs firm, arms crossed as if daring anyone to challenge him.
He called down, “Enough of the parlor tricks. Real training, anyone?”
Daisy rolled her eyes, but she was already climbing the spiral stairs to the roof. Oliver followed, not quite touching but never more than a step behind.
The air on the roof was colder, with the river wind cutting through the day’s leftover heat. Xeris placed the trainees along the ridge, instructing them to practice firing incendiary arrows. He corrected their posture with strict precision, but the nature of his voice set him distinctly apart from Samuel. Where Samuel’s approach was patient and encouraging, Xeris’s tone was consistently mocking and challenging, never gentle. This contrast highlighted the differing philosophies underlying their mentorship, with Xeris favoring tough provocation and Samuel leaning toward careful guidance.
“Higher,” he told one. “If you can’t hit the crest of the wall, you’re just feeding the moat.”
He demonstrated, losing a practice arrow in a single, fluid motion. It shot upward, then arced and burst with a flash of magnesium white, visible for miles.
“Now you try,” he barked, and the trainees scrambled to imitate.
Daisy watched, feeling a strange pride. She sensed Xeris’s presence even when he wasn’t looking at her, noticing the quiet pull of their shared magic and how his attention found her in the dark. He would never say it, but he was cheering for her, for both of them.
The training lasted until the city’s clock tower struck midnight. The chime resonated ominously through the Mage Quarter, a reminder that the city lay on the cusp of renewal and threat. The apprentices went home, tired but wary of the looming curfew that hinted at disturbances yet to come. Delia stayed behind to help with scrapes. Oliver came to Daisy, gently wiping a smear of blood from her cheek, and the kindness made her want to cry and laugh at the same time. Xeris stayed on the roof, his outline lit by the glow of the wards. When everyone else had left, he called down to Daisy in a softer voice.
“Don’t burn out,” he said. “Even a chain can break.”
Daisy looked up at him, feeling the weight of the city and the pressure of every new apprentice and old fear. She nodded, not trusting herself to say anything.
Oliver took her hand, and together they walked home, the magic in their veins humming in harmony.
As they crossed the doorway, Daisy looked back at the Mage Quarter, noticing the lights, the scars, and the network of connections she had built in just a few hours. It felt like seeing the ‘wild and half-controlled’ landscape reflected in herself, a harmony of light and shadow in equal measure. She realized she wasn’t the only one keeping the city together now. But she was the only one who truly knew how easy it would be to let go.
In that moment, Daisy turned to Oliver and the apprentices, offering a final thought. “Remember,” she said softly, “magic is as much about understanding yourself as it is about controlling what’s around you. Practice patience and always trust in your intentions. Mistakes will happen, and it’s alright. Just pick yourself up and try again.” Her words settled around her like a protective spell, offering comfort and courage to those journeying alongside her in this volatile world.