Chapter 37
"No, not really cold..." She didn't dare to say that she had used all her strength to prevent the fireplace from exploding. She had to huddle next to the fireplace all night. She couldn't guarantee that there wouldn't be any mishap when summoning the fire element, especially after accidentally causing an explosion while trying to use the "gentle breeze" spell.
Xerath led her into the living room, where the Fire Child Elvis was curled up as a dull ball of magma, dozing off in the fireplace. Stimulated by Xerath, he woke up.
"My master, what wind blew you here?"
"Milk."
"Okay, coming right up."
Xerath took off her own robe and draped it over Sylas. Sylas noticed that her teacher was dressed exactly like her under the robe. Yes, everything on her was Xerath's old clothes. Sylas guessed that when Xerath was a child, they had a similar body shape, so she didn't need to buy new clothes for her.
Sylas didn't mind wearing old clothes. She didn't even realize they were "old," only that they were "worn by Xerath." There was a faint smell of old parchment on her, as well as the smell of insect repellent in the old clothes box. But the clothes were warm and still held Xerath's body heat. Besides, there was a scent that Sylas really liked. In the many hugs they had shared months ago, Sylas had caught a whiff of it on Xerath.
She liked it very much.
Xerath paced back and forth, and Sylas watched her nervously. Maybe the best way to explain was to say something. "Teacher... I... didn't mean to, I'm sorry."
Xerath sat across from Sylas and put her hand on her shoulder. "What problem did you encounter? What doubts do you have? Describe it."
"I followed the steps you told me, very carefully, but they still don't listen to me."
"Show me." Xerath pointed to the magic broom standing in the corner.
Sylas hesitated for a moment, raised her hand, and traced a beam of light in the air with her fingertip, saying, "'Fly high'!"
The magic broom, as if awakened by something, started sweeping the room. At first, its movements were like a graceful dance, smooth and flowing. After a while, it started wobbling and even hit Xerath's leg.
"That's enough, that's enough," Sylas suddenly spread her fingers wide, and the magic broom took two hesitant steps before reluctantly moving to lean against the wall.
She began chanting the spell again, reactivating the magic broom. It continued sweeping from where it had stopped earlier.
After a while, Sylas made it stop again.
Xerath felt the wind element swirling around Sylas, responding eagerly whenever she called. It was rare to see someone so welcomed by the elements - it was like being born in the air and taking it for granted, just as the elements were born around humans and mostly ignored them. Usually, only trained elemental mages could make the elements take notice. Sylas's mother was probably an excellent elemental mage and had taught her how to "communicate" with the elements from a young age.
"Why did you make it stop?"
"Because... I felt it was starting to misbehave. If I continued like that, it would have caused trouble."
Xerath nodded and recited the words "fly high in the sky." The magic broom woke up startled and started flying around the living room like a dancer. Unlike Sylas, the magic broom kept sweeping and soon the living room was clean, except for a pile of dog hair. It didn't stop and Xerath occasionally moved her fingers, catching Sylas's attention. She stared at her teacher without blinking until she heard Xerath say, "You don't need to teach the magic broom how to move, it can do it naturally. You are holding too much control over it. At first, you managed to synchronize with its movements, but then everything became chaotic."
"Is that so?"
"Yes," Xerath took the hot milk handed to her by Elvis and snapped her fingers. A gust of wind blew, cooling down the milk a bit, and she handed it to Sylas. "Drink it all and then go to sleep."
"But I haven't finished sweeping yet."
"You can finish sweeping tomorrow," Xerath casually touched her head, her black hair soft and warm. "I'll leave the living room for you."
She stood up and left. Returning to the study, she felt cold after a while and realized that the magical robe was still covering Sylas. Carefully pushing open Sylas's bedroom door, she found her already asleep. The black robe was lying on top of the blanket, revealing Sylas's furry head. Xerath hesitated and then closed the door behind her and left.
Hyectra followed behind her, sighing almost inaudibly. It had predicted the difficulty of teaching Sylas from the beginning, but it hadn't expected that the hardest part for Sylas wouldn't be reading those books that children usually don't like, but rather an unexpected skill: controlling magic.
Just as Xerath had said before, other magic apprentices were carefully learning how to make the most of one silver coin, while Sylas had a bag full of gold coins. She would grab a handful and scatter them around, and the elements would eagerly scramble to snatch them.
Language and writing both have their own magic. Sylas used the power of the elements through "word-spells." The ancient Saiti people were the first tribe to use magic among humans and, with their strong magical abilities, built a powerful empire. Almost all current human spells are written in the ancient Saiti language, which is also the apprentice's entry-level course, though it's difficult.
And the power of perception of elements is another very subtle thing, just like any of our actions, which are constantly adjusted by feedback from perception and muscle. Sylas has a very delicate perception of elements, but she feels powerless and has no way to push the huge stone in front of her.
It is these very mysterious and unquantifiable sensory experiences that make mages become increasingly mysterious professions. In other words, these two skills, besides practicing on their own, have almost no other ways to enhance them.
It is precisely based on this consideration that Xerath hesitated again and again about sheltering Sylas: she herself has no relevant experiences and doesn't know how to teach this seemingly naturally magic creature. Maybe Sylas is really some kind of humanoid demon beast or something, hardly any child is born with magic.
After staying awake all night, Sylas immediately fell asleep, but perhaps due to her own biological rhythm, she didn't sleep well. She suddenly woke up from a dream.
"Can't be late for class because of this!" she exclaimed softly, jumping out of bed.
And if she doesn't go back to the library, she won't see Xerath until the evening.
"What's wrong? Had a nightmare?"
"Teacher?!" Sylas suddenly became incoherent, "How...how did you get here?"
Xerath wore a neat black mage robe, with her hair not tied up but braided casually, hanging loosely over her shoulders. She leaned back in her chair, a book floating in front of her. When Sylas looked at her, she had just taken her hand off her chin.
Xerath seemed to find this question a bit strange, "This entire mage tower belongs to me."
Sylas certainly didn't mean that, although she understood that Xerath had the power to go everywhere in Aimekotes, "Do I have to accept punishment if I break something?"
Xerath suddenly laughed, "Relax, my little beast, that's not true."
"Um, is that someone coming to wake me up for class?"
Xerath shook her head, "Today is a day off. Why did you wake up? You only slept for about two hours."
Ah, it's a day off.
Her classes usually ran from Monday to Friday, with two days off. On Saturdays, Xerath usually explored the tower on her own, while Sylas stayed in the library reading leisurely. Sometimes, they would go to Withered Leaf City to buy things. But Sylas enjoyed being with Xerath the most, so when Xerath read, Sylas would also grab a book or work on the assignments Xerath gave her.
Xerath was supposed to be in the library, but now she was by her own bed, and there were no classes today. Sylas couldn't figure out what Xerath wanted to do.
"Um... I thought we had classes today."
Xerath suddenly smiled and said, "Do you want to go to class?"
Sylas thought for a moment and replied, "Well... not really. I thought you would be in the library."
"Reading is the same anywhere. Drink the one on the bedside, Elvis said it helps with the cold. It's a bit spicy, but I hope you can take it like medicine."
"Medicine?"
Maybe because of her years of living in the wild, Sylas was very healthy. Xerath had taken her for a check-up before, but her body was strong and she didn't even have common problems with parasites that other children often have. She had only seen medicine like this in dictionaries.
"It doesn't taste very good," Xerath admitted. She beckoned with her finger and the cup at the bedside slowly rose into the air. Orange flames emerged from thin air and licked the entire cup. Soon, steam rose from the cup. Sylas carefully grasped the handle of the cup and leaned forward to see what was inside. She saw a deep brown liquid and her reflection. She also smelled a spicy scent. She prepared herself and took a sip. The hot, sweet, and spicy taste did drive away her fatigue. She sipped the not-too-bad drink in small sips, quietly mimicking Xerath's elegant actions.
"It's not too bad," a few drops of sweat appeared on her forehead. Xerath took out a handkerchief and wiped them away.
Sylas didn't dare to think that Xerath had been sitting by the bed reading a book for so long just so she could take her medicine. It was more likely that she just wanted to find a place to read, and her room was suitable. Especially today, the sunlight was very comfortable, and the position in her room allowed the sunlight to shine in at an angle, not too hot and not too bright.
Xerath was kind to her, but in these days of studying every little detail, Sylas understood that many of Xerath's actions were just out of good manners.
It was just a matter of politeness, not her true feelings.
