M.S. Davidson
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45. Returning the Favor
🕑 Added 2025-09-06 16:00:07 +0000 UTCMy mana moved like it was thinking ahead of me. Like a reflex requiring only a whisper of intention. With a twitch of my fingers, the energy was already there, coiled and ready to strike.
Sitting in meditation, I could feel the changes from the tea settling into permanence. My pathways looked like river deltas now—complex, branching networks where before there had been simple threads barely wider than fishing line.
Opening my eyes, I focused on Bravery, burning bright in that liminal space where runes seemed to exist. I casually rotated my mana away from it, and the spell faded like a candle being snuffed. The world lurched briefly without its effects—colors less vivid, sounds more muffled.
Rotating energy back ignited the rune instantly, sparking to life with eager intensity. It felt permanent now, always there unless I concentrated hard on dropping it. Even then, it would reappear moments later, ready for infusion like a loyal dog waiting for attention.
I looked down at my hand, separating Radiance from Courage and pushing Light into my palm. My hand lit up like a biological flashlight, glowing with faint pinkish-red luminescence that seemed to pulse with my heartbeat.
The ease of rune manipulation shocked me. Before, I had just been using Bravery because it was easy, but separating them into their component concepts felt like child’s play.
Frowning, I turned my hand over, inspecting the trapped glow beneath my skin. The light looked almost alive, swirling in patterns that made my flesh seem translucent. With a sigh, I released it, and my hand returned to normal.
"You'll need a mudra if you're trying to manifest magic," came a voice from behind me.
I turned to see Malcolm climbing the stairs, looking like he'd been introduced to a wood chipper and lost the argument. His clothes hung in tatters, cuts and bruises painting his skin in a roadmap of pain while he cradled his arm at an unnatural angle.
"Oh shit, are you okay?" I asked, jumping up and rushing over.
He laughed, though it sounded like it hurt. "I'll live. The Grace trial is no joke—it's like dancing with a tornado that has anger management issues. I passed, but only barely. Dorian should be done with his trial soon, and he's been studying a healing rune."
"I actually know one too," I said, hesitating. "But I haven't really used it... that way."
Malcolm arched an eyebrow through the pain. "What do you mean you know a healing rune but haven't used it?"
"It's... hard to explain." I wasn't in the mood to dive into another 'magic is what you make it' conversation. But Chas's earlier question echoed in my mind, demanding attention.
I wasn't entirely sure what Radiance could do beyond making my hand glow like a bargain-basement flashlight, but... what if I paired it with Compassion?
Sliding Compassion into the rune alongside Radiance, I studied the combination carefully. The meaning roared at me, more direct and visceral than any rune I'd bound before.
• A parent shielding their child from harm.
• A soldier dragging his wounded comrade to safety, unyielding despite the pain ripping through his own body.
Devotion.
Shout your loyalty to the heavens. Prove your willingness to protect those who matter, no matter the cost.
I inhaled sharply as the rune bound itself to my soul. A wave of teal energy radiated outward, similar to Bravery's aura but smaller, denser, more concentrated. The air shimmered with visible heat waves, and my mana pathways burned like white-hot wires under the strain.
If not for my newly enhanced regeneration, I'd be tapped dry in minutes. It wasn't on Valor's level of insane consumption, but maintaining this aura felt like trying to hold back a dam with my bare hands.
I turned to Malcolm, whose eyes went wide as cuts and bruises began visibly fading from his face. I could feel them disappearing, like solving a puzzle piece by piece.
Bravery made me aware of anything focused on me. Devotion, though, let me sense what needed fixing. Malcolm's wrecked body lit up like a problem demanding immediate solution, injuries calling out for attention with increasing urgency.
"What the..." Malcolm flexed his arm, watching in fascination as the bone set itself with audible clicks. "It's like I've taken a powerful healing pill."
Satisfied that most of the damage had been repaired, I released Devotion and immediately dropped to my knees. Sweat poured down my face like I'd been running a marathon in a sauna. My heart hammered against my ribs, and my skin burned as though I'd been sunburned everywhere at once.
The sensation faded quickly, but it left me shaky and hollow.
I realized I'd been holding my breath and forced myself to exhale. Malcolm stepped forward, helping me to my feet with his newly functional arm.
"Gaia's tits, Ben. That was... I've never seen healing that potent before. And without physical contact or a mudra?"
"Ow," I replied eloquently, shaking my head to clear the fog. Red rushed up and leaned into my legs, circling me like he was bracing to catch me if I toppled over. "I'm good. That was just the first time I've thought to use it like that."
I made my way back to the pool, scooped up some of the cool water, and drank deeply. It felt like my throat had been lined with sandpaper and set on fire.
"You really are on a whole different level than other initiates," Malcolm said after a thoughtful pause. "I thought it was just that aura you used on me in Cyrus's shop, but I think I get it now."
My glance met his as I sipped. "You could feel it?"
Malcolm looked at me with that bewildered expression again. "Just before you apologized for taking the meditation room, I thought you might lash out. I could feel you sizing me up, measuring me. It was... potent. Like being studied by a predator."
"Awesome!" I did a little fist pump as realization dawned. "No wonder you looked so freaked out. I'm sorry about that! Didn't know that's what I was doing, but... I guess it makes sense now."
The lingering exhaustion faded, replaced by excitement at understanding another piece of the puzzle.
Malcolm just shook his head in amazement. "You'd make a formidable Arcanist."
I laughed. "Felix said that too. But I'm told I'm more of a Guardian. I guess it tracks."
He nodded thoughtfully. "The more I learn about you, the more accurate that seems. Here."
He raised his hands as if praying, then separated his index, middle, and ring fingers while keeping his thumbs and pinkies touching. The gesture looked like a flower blooming in fast-forward. He held it with practiced ease—something he'd done thousands of times.
"Arcanists learn as many mudras as we can. Each one is a unique way to manifest magic physically. This Lotus mudra is simple, but effective in directing energy outward. Try channeling your light spell into your palms while maintaining this pose. Takes practice, but you should be able to project the magic rather than just contain it."
I mimicked his hand position, forming the mudra. It wasn't the most comfortable pose—my fingers protested the unnatural angles—but it wasn't terrible either. I could feel mana flowing through the points where my hands and fingers touched, creating a circuit of energy, but couldn't figure out how to actually use it.
"Like this?" I asked, adjusting my grip.
"Yeah, just make sure the heels of your hands and those two fingers stay connected. Some Masters can modify mudras or even use one hand, but until you've practiced enough, keep the pose steady."
"Malcolm!" Dorian's voice sliced through our conversation like a knife. We turned to see him standing at the top of the stairs, his expression mixing disapproval with annoyance. "There's no point in cozying up to someone who won't be here in a week. Let's go. Darryl just finished his training."
Malcolm sighed with the resignation of someone who'd had this argument before. "It was nice talking to you, Ben. And thanks for the healing."
"Thanks for the mudra lesson," I said, grinning as he turned to follow his irritating friend.
Once they were gone, I settled back by the pool and scratched Red behind the ears. He leaned into the attention like it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
"I think we like Malcolm," I said, and he huffed at me as if I was stating the blindingly obvious.
I formed the Lotus mudra again, practicing pushing light into both palms. Energy pooled in my hands, looping through my connected fingers in interesting patterns, but all that happened was my palms glowing that same fleshy red-pink flashlight color.
As I practiced, several chimes of completed trials rang in the distance—four in total. Meanwhile, I'd only given myself hand cramps and a slight glow. Progress was apparently relative.
I was about to try again when the sound of a loud gong erupted from the valley, the deep note reverberating through the stone like a battle cry. My head snapped toward the stairs, and instinctively, I ignited Bravery. Red and I were instantly on our feet, rushing down the steps as one.
The initiates who'd been lingering earlier were now gathered around one of the larger structures, murmuring among themselves with an excited energy that suggested something significant had happened.
"What's going on?" I asked, skidding to a stop near the group.
"Lady Cassandra seems to have solved the Grace trial," said Michael, the Floran from earlier.
I blinked, staring at the entrance as the door slid open with ceremonial slowness. Cass stood triumphantly in the doorway, wrapped in a vivid green aura that clung to her like a second skin. The energy was darker and more controlled than Doreen's wild green glow, radiating power that made the air itself seem to vibrate.
Gasps rippled through the crowd at the sight of her achievement.
But her armor told a different story—completely shredded, hanging in tatters with blood dripping from several cuts. She stumbled forward, shaky but defiant, wearing victory and exhaustion in equal measure.
"Fuck yeah," she said with a lopsided grin. She took a single unsteady step forward.
Then her eyes rolled back, the aura winked out like someone had flipped a switch, and she crumpled forward like a puppet with its strings cut, face-planting onto the stone with a sound that made everyone wince.
"She's completely out of mana," Dara's voice said calmly from right beside me.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Fuck's sake," I gasped, clutching my chest. "I can see why Diana finds that so irritating."
"You're becoming a thorn in my side, Ben Crawford," Dara continued, her tone carrying dry amusement. "That one claims you gave her advice about the nature of magic that led to this situation. Two trials solved in a single day is unprecedented."
"Maybe you need to make them more difficult?" The words escaped before I could stop them. I winced immediately. "That was stupid to say, wasn't it?"
Dara's Elven features twisted into a mischievous smirk, and she fixed me with uncomfortable intensity. "Oh, it was. This will not happen again."
A chill ran down my spine, but I ignored the heat creeping up my neck and walked over to Cass. Most of her injuries looked superficial, but the way her shoulder sat told me her collarbone was broken. Her ankle didn't look great either, twisted at an angle that made my own feet ache in sympathy.
Bracing myself, I bound Devotion for the second time, feeling the familiar rush of mana as teal energy radiated out from me and washed over her unconscious form.
This time, though, something felt different. The mana drain was still overwhelming, but the energy seemed naturally drawn to Cass instead of being forced over Malcolm. It flowed toward her like water finding its level, seeking damage with purpose.
The broken bone in her collarbone shifted and set with audible clicks, her ankle following suit. Even the smallest cuts knitted themselves back together as the aura worked its magic. It was almost automatic—Devotion drawing my attention to the worst injuries first, prioritizing them like a combat medic's triage system.
When I released the spell, I stepped back, half-expecting the crushing exhaustion that had dropped me earlier. But nothing came. No dizziness. No burning skin. Just... calm. A sense of completion and satisfaction that I'd helped someone important to me.
Was the kickback lessened depending on how much I cared about someone? The thought was fascinating and terrifying in equal measure.
I glanced around to find everyone staring at me, their expressions ranging from shock to something uncomfortably close to reverence. Even Dorian and Darryl looked stunned, their usual arrogance replaced by something approaching awe.
I let out an awkward chuckle. "Sorry, folks. Usually, I'm the one passing out from mana exhaustion. Can someone help me get her up the stairs?"
Michael rushed to my side without hesitation, and together we got under Cass's arms, lifting her between us. She was taller than both of us, making it a struggle to carry her without dragging her feet across the stone. Red trailed behind, his ears pricked forward in what looked suspiciously like concern.
When we reached the pavilion, Michael simply nodded and headed back down toward the trials, leaving Cass and me alone with the sound of falling water. Red sniffed at what remained of her wounds, his nose brushing against her torn armor.
A quick internal check revealed that the second binding of Devotion had nearly wiped out my reserves. If I'd held it any longer, I would've been lying beside her on the ground, probably drooling. Thankfully, the Titan's Root was working overtime—my regeneration rate was at least three times faster than before.
"You'll want to get her armor off," Dara's voice said from behind me.
This time, I barely flinched. "Here's probably not the best place for that. She'd murder me if she woke up mid-removal. Not sure I can carry her back to the Tower, but I can try. Do I need armor to use the portal in reverse?"
Dara shook her head. "No, and I'll arrange for it to open closer to the Tower."
Nodding, I shifted Cass onto my shoulders in a fireman's carry, forcing as much mana as I could muster into my legs and back. To my surprise, it worked better than expected—her weight felt far more manageable thanks to the new pathways unlocked by the tea. She was still deadweight, but every step felt controlled rather than desperate.
"Hey, Dara?" I asked without turning around. "How is it that Red could use the portal without armor?"
Silence answered me. I glanced back to find the spot empty except for Red, who let out a low huff and rolled his eyes with the exasperation of someone who'd watched this routine before.
"Well, it was worth a shot," I muttered, adjusting Cass and stepping through the portal.
It felt completely different this time. No static, no discomfort, no sense of being probed by invisible forces—just a seamless transition like stepping through a doorway. One moment I was in the Trial Grounds, the next I was standing in a great marble courtyard in front of the Tower.
Either the portal worked differently in reverse, or something fundamental had changed about how I interacted with magic. Given the day's events, I was betting on the latter.
Dara had dropped me as close as possible without walking me straight into the building. I'd have to thank her when I returned—assuming she didn't appear behind me first and give me a heart attack.
Carrying Cass up the stairs proved more of a workout than expected, but it wasn't unbearable. My enhanced pathways made the difference, distributing the strain more evenly than before. As I approached the customs area, a Vildar stationed there scrambled to their feet with alarm.
"What happened?" one of them asked, eyes wide at the sight of Cass's torn armor.
"Mana exhaustion," I said, waving him off. "I'm taking her back to her room on the seventh floor. Any idea if Chas Blackwood or Erik Winters is around?"
They exchanged glances before one spoke up. "Adept Erik came back through about an hour ago. He might still be in the Tower."
I nodded and moved past them into the Atrium, channeling mana into the bracelet Gary had given me. Before I could even brace myself, the scenery shifted abruptly, and I found myself in a busy hallway on the seventh floor with Cass still slung over my shoulders.
"Whoa!" I exclaimed, nearly dropping her. "At least put a wind-up time on this thing, Gary. Some warning would be nice."
Red was still back in the Atrium, but I knew he'd find his way here. He seemed to have an internal GPS system for navigating the Tower.
"I'll keep that in mind," Gary said from behind me.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Holy shit! What is with people appearing behind me today? Is this Cass's room?"
Gary stepped past me and opened the door with practiced efficiency. "It is, though she doesn’t use it often. I've sent for her brother—he's on his way."
"Thanks, Gary." I walked inside, noting how much nicer her room was than mine. Not that I minded—I'd take function over form any day. "Hey, any chance you can find me something to write with? And maybe some paper?"
Gary narrowed his eyes like I'd asked for weapons-grade plutonium. "I'll have someone bring you what you need."
Cass's room struck a perfect balance between comfort and functionality. The space I'd had at Doreen's was the complete opposite of my spartan Tower room, and this felt like the sweet spot between the two extremes.
"Is that everything?" Gary asked, still lingering in the doorway.
"Yeah, thanks," I said, glancing back at him.
He gave a curt nod and closed the door as I carefully laid Cass down on her bed. It was awkward maneuvering around her unconscious form, but I managed without dropping her or causing additional damage.
Only a few minutes passed before the door opened again, revealing Erik in his basic linen clothes. His expression was calm but concerned—the look of someone who'd gotten used to his sister's tendency toward spectacular crashes.
"Is she alright?" he asked immediately.
"Oh yeah, she's fine," I said with a grin that probably looked slightly manic. "Solved the Grace trial and apparently used a Seal candidate in doing it. She did a pretty good impression of me today—all the dramatic passing out and everything."
Erik's lips turned up into a genuine smile. "A Seal? That was fast. And the trial? Tell me everything. We'll need to get her out of that armor."
"Hold on," I said, raising a hand. "I have an idea I think you're going to love, but I need a favor first."
His gaze turned curious, though his brows knitted slightly. "Go on."
"I've heard you've got a knack for growing things. Would you have anything that can go in decorative pots or containers? The more, the better—especially flowers."
His eyes narrowed with the same suspicious look Gary had given me, but after a moment he nodded slowly. "What exactly are you planning?"
"I promise you're going to like it," I said quickly, holding up my hands in mock surrender. "We're just going to spruce up her room a little. Give her something nice to wake up to."
"Alright," he said, still watching me with skeptical interest. "I'll be back."
As Erik left, a Hunter arrived with several thick sheets of paper and something that could generously be called a pencil. I thanked him and sat down at the desk, jotting down fake journal entries with quick, precise strokes. My hand worked almost on autopilot, the ideas flowing easily onto the page.
Day 1. Continued Training, no change to Cass.
Day 2. Concerned, spoke with Diana. More training.
Day 3. Still unconscious. Beginning to worry.
It wasn't long before Erik returned, and my jaw practically dropped as he began producing arrangement after arrangement from his mana sanctum. Shrubberies, flower bushes, and even small trees. Some were so large I wondered if there was a size limit to those earrings.
"Holy... How much stuff do you have in there?" I asked as he started placing plants around the room with practiced ease.
He didn't answer directly, but his stoic expression cracked slightly when he caught sight of what I was writing. A faint grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, good idea."
Erik moved to work on Cass, carefully removing her battered armor and dressing her in basic clothes while I continued the elaborate prank setup. I hung pieces of the damaged armor over some of the plant life, letting them dangle like bizarre ornaments. Within minutes, the room transformed from a plain dorm into something out of a fairy tale.
Once we finished, Erik and I sat down, and I recapped the day's events for him. He seemed genuinely thrilled by how quickly Cass and I were advancing, his usual calm exterior cracking into a wide grin.
"Ben, this is outstanding," he said, genuine warmth in his voice. "I thought maybe she wouldn't let you push her, but she did. She finally accepted help and took her first real step forward in ages. Thank you, really."
I waved him off. "Come on, Erik. She's my friend—it's the least I can do. Especially if I don't cut it in the tournament and get tossed off Ark like yesterday's garbage."
"If you can solve a trial, I have a feeling you'll be fine," he replied, just as Cass stirred.
I motioned for Erik to keep quiet, barely containing my excitement.
"Ugh, someone find what kicked me in the head so I can return the favor," she groaned, sitting up stiffly.
I was about to stand, but Erik beat me to it.
"Graceful Gods, Cass—it's good to hear your voice," he said with genuine relief.
"What?" Cass froze, her eyes darting around the room like she was seeing it for the first time.
The transformation was complete—plants everywhere; her armor hanging like trophies; the entire space looking like a garden sanctuary.
"Cass, you've been out for weeks," I said solemnly, stepping next to Erik and handing her the papers I'd been writing. "The tournament is over, and everyone's left."
She took them with a confused expression, her eyes scanning the fabricated journal entries with growing panic:
Day 1. Continued Training, no change to Cass.
Day 2. Concerned, spoke with Diana. More Training.
...
Day 7. Tournament concluded, won boat, too easy. Still no change in Cass.
Her brow furrowed as she read, genuine panic flashing across her face. Her gaze darted between the pages and us, processing the implications. Then, her expression shifted—from hurried panic to resignation, and finally to something cold and calculating. The look that only a big sister can give.
Uh oh.
The air changed subtly—like the atmospheric pressure before a storm, except this storm wore braids. Valor screamed at me through our bond to protect my most vulnerable assets.
Erik and I both flinched as Cass materialized between us, her voice carrying a honeyed sweetness. "Grand Tournaments take longer than a day, you pricks."
The relief hit us both like a brick wall. We stumbled backward with the kind of laughter that only comes from narrowly avoiding pain, or at least serious injury to very important body parts. Cass straightened up with the triumphant smirk of someone who'd just executed the perfect scare, watching Erik's face cycle through several stages of bewilderment.
"I'm trying to grow as a person, Erik." Her gray eyes glittered with mischief. "You two should try it sometime."
That's when she actually looked around the room properly, taking in the botanical transformation we'd managed to create while she was gone. The place looked like a greenhouse had exploded in the worst possible way.
Her expression shifted from amusement to genuine surprise, then something that might have been actual appreciation.
"Huh, and I'm keeping the plants," she declared.
Comments
crazyray
"regeneration rate was at least three times faster than before" He previously stated that his regeneration rate increased by several "magnitudes". Plural = min 2 -> min 100 times increase.
