Chapter 6 #2
That settled between them, and Wylan realized, too late, it might have been the wrong thing to say.
Or maybe it was exactly right—because Ralund had a point.
There was a reason they separated, all those years ago.
There was a reason that Wylan hadn’t let himself approach Feo before this point, despite the persistent sadness in his soul.
There was a reason his feelings around Lord Dren were so exciting.
He didn’t think he’d get them again.
Feo had that look. The one that sparked their love of debate, the one that said an argument was imminent, just because Feo couldn’t resist the thrill of a fast-paced conversation. “We were hardly wrong for—”
Wylan held up a hand. “Feo.”
I’m not doing this with you. Not here. Not now.
Maybe not ever.
Feo clamped their mouth shut. The past was a tangible thing between them.
And then… Feo did exactly what Wylan wanted. For the first time since Wylan had met Feo… they let an argument go.
“You’re right. Let’s fix the church, shall we?
” Feo began rolling up their sleeves, which only showed off their forearms. For someone who spent most of their time reading and practicing spellwork, they were unfairly toned.
“I spent the week revising a few of the circles I used to construct the Academy. They can rebuild the walls and roof, and reinforce the foundation. With your approval, Lord Wylan, I’ll begin there? ”
A question.
With your approval.
Feo never used to ask for permission, not for anything. Especially not for something relating to the town they used to govern, even if that governing happened side-by-side with Wylan. There were discussions around town policy… but not requests.
Wylan was caught off-guard. He stammered a reply. “Oh. Um, y-yes. Of course. Whatever you feel is best, Alchemicor.”
The last time he’d said that title, it felt stale in his mouth, a verbal punch. Now, it was spoken with mutual respect—the same tone Feo had used when saying Lord Wylan.
Feo’s smile was dazzling. They knelt to draw a circle big enough for two.
Once upon a time, they used to have something to actually draw the circle—but now, thanks to a special tattoo inked on their hand, magic followed their finger, tracing glowing purple lines in the air itself.
Once completed, the circle settled over the dirt, and Feo gestured for Wylan to step inside.
“For your protection,” they said.
Wylan obeyed, a little awe-struck. He hadn’t realized how much Feo had improved in just four years. Imagine what they could accomplish with another decade or two.
They didn’t need to wonder—because Feo began drawing another circle.
They coupled this one with a few ancient words spoken in a language Wylan didn’t recognize, but one he knew Feo had only started recording when the Academy was erected.
The magic circle they grew quadrupled in size and floated overhead, and Feo raised their shard of the Arcanium, using it to punctuate the spell they’d just cast.
Wylan was a very normal human with no magic of his own—but even he could feel the power shifting as Feo slammed magic into the circle overhead.
And in a breath… the world began to shift.
Stones littered around them began lifting off the ground, levitating until they fit themselves in their old homes.
Wooden beams knitted themselves back together, splintered wood fusing with magic until they were whole once again.
The entire church rebuilt itself under Feo’s watchful gaze.
They were sweating with the effort, Wylan realized.
Magic drain was a big problem for Kianthe due to weak ley lines around Tawney, and the distance to the Stone of Seeing.
Elemental mages needed one or the other to perform big magic, and only the Arcandor could pull from other mages to supplement that.
Alchemists used to require blood magic, creating energy from blood spilt: the bigger the sacrifice, the more magic it generated.
With the creation of their own stone, the Arcanium, alchemy became closer to elemental magic.
But even with the Arcanium nearby, even with a shard of it around Feo’s neck, it still required massive willpower to channel.
“Feo, you don’t have to—” Wylan started.
Feo held up a hand, stopping him. “I want to. I’ll be fine.”
They continued on until the church’s roof had rebuilt itself, until the walls were once again whole.
Wylan doubted the building had looked as nice in two generations, maybe more.
Even the glass over the communion area, where Sheparans could speak directly to the Stars, had slid back together, fused with glowing magic that faded into subtle cracks as Feo dropped their arms.
The magic eased out of the church, but the walls and ceiling stayed.
Feo staggered.
Wylan caught their arm immediately, holding tight as they regained their balance. Their skin was pale and slick with sweat, but they grinned. “What—what do you think?”
Wylan scowled. “I think you overdid it.” His gaze turned upwards. “But it’s beautiful. It’s far more than I hoped.”
“Happy to help,” Feo replied faintly.
Wylan rolled his eyes and helped the Alchemicor to a broken pew. The furniture would have to be replaced at a later time, but now that the building was structurally sound, that wouldn’t be a problem. He eased Feo onto the seat, kneeling beside them. “Will you be all right?”
“Come on, Wy. You remember this.” Feo mopped their forehead with the fabric of their shirt. “The magic will come back. Just takes a bit of time.”
Wylan did remember this. But before, Feo had used this kind of magic for themselves and the school… not Tawney. The change was both nice and unsettling. But even Wylan couldn’t deny the results.
Feo hesitated, taking a few deep breaths. “Um. Look. I… didn’t mean to intervene at the party. Kianthe invited me, believe it or not. I stopped by your manor to retrieve a book, and she told me to show up. I didn’t realize that she never told you.”
“She didn’t… but I’m sorry I made you feel unwelcome.” Wylan rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back on his heels.
“I deserved it,” Feo replied, lightly amused.
“Do you still need the book?”
“What?”
“The book. After four years, you showed up at my house.” Wylan chuckled. “It must have been an important book. Do you still need it?”
Feo stared at him, then nodded. “Yes, actually.”
“You’re welcome anytime, then.”
Feo’s pleased expression made Wylan feel like he’d just handed the Alchemicor solid gold. And for Wylan, something familiar and dangerous stirred.
Maybe Ralund was right to be cautious.