Rhea took a deep breath and concentrated. She was trying to revive a particularly worn out old tree on the grounds in front of Master Silvan and the rest of her class. Half her mind hoped fervently that her powers had strengthened, that she would be able to do this without overexerting herself as she had done so many times before. Her common-sense reminded her that her magic would not shed weakness it had had for nearly four and a half years in an instant; it would most likely become stronger over a period of time.
The class was silent as Rhea touched one hand to the trunk of the acacia and let a trickle of her magic flow through her arm into the tree. At first, Rhea didn’t think that it had done anything, as the trunk stayed the same depressing shade of brownish gray; but as she looked into the withered branches, she saw leaves budding and spreading out. Obviously this was what the tree chose to put its newly gained vigor into first.
Are you sure? she silently asked it. As Master Silvan had taught them, plants had personalities just as humans and animals did; they simply didn’t voice it in a way other species could understand. This acacia must have a thread of vanity, Rhea thought somewhat amusedly.
The branches rustled--though there was no breath of wind to move them, Rhea observed. The crackle had a sense of indignance behind it, which naturally made her apologize silently. A quirk of plants was that they understood feelings, not words, which was difficult until one got the knack of communicating with plant life.
Even so, Rhea had taken a bit longer than average to get used to sending feelings to a plant. It was much harder to send a genuine emotion to a tree than to simply say she were sorry and leave; but most of the plants were patient in the face of her ineptness, and so it had mostly turned out for the best.
Except now Rhea was feeling the prickly niggling sensation that meant she was trying to push strength she no longer had into a tree that was sternly telling her to stop it. She pulled her hand away just as she blacked out.
When Rhea reawakened in her room, Kimarru was there, and the impassive High Mistress did not look happy--or concerned, Rhea thought with an edge of alarm. Instead, Kimarru said, “You overreached your strength. Didn’t you, Rhea?”
“Yes,” Rhea answered cautiously, wondering if she would receive the same lecture she had gotten the first time this had happened nearly six months ago.
“I seem to remember you told me you were patient enough to wait when I gave you your magic.” When Rhea opened her mouth to speak, Kimarru silenced her and continued, “I know. You were going to tell me that you’ve waited; but I have heard of green mages who have managed to contain themselves for ten years--more than double the time you have impatiently spent.”
Though it was indeed the same lecture, Rhea still felt the beginnings of disgrace, as she had the first time. Over her past four years as an apprentice, she’d found out Kimarru had that effect on people, whether they showed it or not.
“Now, Rhea, I want you to tell me you won’t do anything rash. Or at least try not to.”
Rhea nodded, saying sincerely, “I’ll try not to, Mistress.”
“I suppose that will do for now.” Kimarru got up and smoothed out the wrinkles in her embroidered bright red robe. “I expect you to carry that out to the best of your ability, apprentice,” she said as she exited the room.
As the door snapped shut behind Kimarru, Rhea’s face stayed emotionless for a moment; then she frowned. Her green magic was stubbornly refusing to increase in power, and the High Mistress of Fire who had given it to her was getting annoyed. Things were starting to get complicated.
Rhea was sick of it, utterly fed up with trying; two months later she was barely going through the motions of doing what assignments Master Silvan gave her. She was at a loss for alternatives and it seemed that she might very well be stuck this way for ten years, as Kimarru had said.
Some had noticed her lack of initiative and rather ill-tempered manner of skipping work, but most assumed it was merely a phase most teenagers went through; those that did not jump to conclusions usually asked if something was wrong. When she said nothing and ignored the questioner, they let it go.
What am I going to do? Rhea asked herself as she walked away from one such person. To her, the swish and rustle of her robe and book-bag as she left was rather noisy, though nobody would have noticed the difference. She halfheartedly chided herself and continued to her room more sedately. However, she heard an intriguing snippet of conversation between two Masters she was passing.
“...getting stronger every year...”
She abruptly turned and bumped into another apprentice, letting her bag drop with a hollow thud. Paying no attention to the fervent apologies from the Water apprentice, she opened her bag and pretended to check if anything was broken while focusing intently on the conversation.
“I know... rumors the other school’s Masters are getting more dangerous... powerful...”
After feeling an unevenness in one of her textbooks, Rhea pulled it out and realized that the spine had been cracked from the fall. Cursing inwardly and glowering at the book, for she’d thought nothing would actually be broken (but it had been a rather old edition, a tiny voice admitted in her head) she gathered her things, stood up and stalked to her room like a cat who’d been nearly been given a bath. The last thing Rhea heard as she went down the staircase was:
“...using techniques?”
“Perhaps...”
Something clicked in her head, the satisfied sense that meant Rhea had heard everything she needed to hear. As it didn’t fit her current mood at all, she stopped--though the hallway was not quite empty and she was sure to be noticed.
“But why...?” Rhea muttered, confused. Then the rest of the conversation she’d eavesdropped on caught up with her and there was another click. She went on to her room, smiling slightly.
“Kimarru!” The High Master of Air Brendan dashed into the High Mistress’ room the next day after lunch. “Kimarru, I’m sorry for disturbing you but one of the apprentices is missing!”
Kimarru bolted upright, but quickly regained composure in contrast to the upset Brendan. “Calm down, Brendan. Exactly who is missing?”
“Rhea! When she didn’t show up for her lesson, Silvan sent someone to her room, but she wasn’t there!”
“Any trace?” Kimarru asked, knowing and dreading the answer which she knew.
“Excepting Rhea, everything was still there. Her books, her bag, I think most of her robes... but I can’t be sure.”
Kimarru nodded. The wardrobes could not be trusted to stay constant for long. Once a particularly clever but dishonest student had used his to procure gloves, which he then used to easily steal countless items from the other students. Of course, he’d been caught in the act and expelled before he could ask for his magic.
Bringing herself back to the present, the High Mistress asked, partly to herself and partly to Brendan, “Where could that girl have gone?”
“All of the water Masters are scrying for Rhea already... but perhaps you could try tracking her also, Kimarru.”
“What!” Kimarru exclaimed out of surprise. “Brendan, you know very well that I cannot search for someone--”
“You did give Rhea her magic, though.”
A scornful glance dampened Brendan’s spirits somewhat. “You forget, Master of Air, that like frequently draws to like; a Master of Fire cannot track down an apprentice of any other magic no matter what. Leave Rhea to the green and water Masters.”
“But Kimarru, just listen: if we use fire magic as if it were a fire and Rhea’s magic a thread--”
“She won’t have used any of her magic, however inadvertently. Rhea’s far too weak for that and she knows it. Besides, what would she use her magic for?”
“Oh. I forgot...”
“Yes, you did forget,” Kimarru snapped. Dealing with any Master of Air was very trying for her; while most of them got brilliant ideas, they often did not stop to think about whether the ideas could truly be of use.
Like Water and their emotional carryings on, Kimarru thought. Inwardly scowling, she said, “Do go away, Brendan. I have to think about this.”
He did as she said, noting the irritation in her voice. As Kimarru stared at the door which had just closed, she remembered saying that Rhea knew she was very weak. As her thoughts skipped to a rumor she’d heard from a Mistress of Water, something about the other academy using techniques to gain amazing power, she abruptly put the two together.
“Oh, Rhea wouldn’t...” Kimarru scoffed and stopped herself. “Of course she would go to that school. Curse that pledge of respect! And Rhea! Gods, she even takes advantages she doesn’t know about!”
The pledge of respect was something all the Masters had taken: If an apprentice had left the academy for the other, they would not follow to take them back. A decision to change schools was a large one, and an apprentice who made that decision had to follow it through by themselves.
“If she had only gone home,” Kimarru muttered. That was simply running away, and not protected by the pledge. But she knew Rhea was not that sort of person. The past was past, and they could only wait for her to return. If she would return at all.
Kimarru stood up to inform the other Masters of her very likely deduction.
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