โThatโs it? Thatโs what youโve got?โ
Max sat cross-legged among the tall, rippling grass, watching my silver butterflies rise into the sky.
โโThatโs it?โโ I echoed. โI mean โ thatโs it?โ
It was impossible not to be insulted by this reaction. โNot only these,โ I said, gesturing to the butterflies. โThere was also fire andโโ
โSparks, honestly. Itโs just all veryโฆperformative.โ โI know thoughts also,โ I offered.
โRight. No need to demonstrate that, I saw that one first hand.โ His teeth clamped down on the end of his pen, looking down at the stack of papers he had brought with him. โAnd when you do that โ what do you typically do, exactly?โ
โWhat do Iย do?โ
โDo you speak, or just listen?โ
I stared blankly at him. His eyes flicked up at me from the parchments.
โWhat I mean is, how closely can you understand what people are thinking? Words, or just feelings? And how much do you control them?โ
โControl?โ It came out like a gasp. Could Valtainย do
that?
Max let out a humorless chuckle. โAscended, you really are new to Ara, arenโt you? This is why you need to be careful here.โ
I shook my head, putting aside that line of questioning for later. โI hear what they feel,โ I said. โNot words. Justโฆโ I couldnโt decide how to explain it in Aran, so I placed my hand over my heart. โBig things here.โ
He nodded, as if he understood this perfectly.
My thoughts shot to Esmaris, the way his mind felt withering and suffocating beneath my own, the look on his face as he fell to the ground. But I said nothing about that.
โFine. Good.โ Max placed the pile of papers on the ground, staring down at them. I was fairly certain that he did not sleep last night. When I went to bed, he was scribbling frantically at the table, not bothering to so much as look at me as he bid me goodnight. And he was in exactly that same place when I got up again in the morning, except surrounded by substantially more paper and with eyes bracketed by darkness. Still, he was exceptionally energetic when he greeted me and almost immediately whisked me outside to begin.
No objections from me. In fact, this was the most encouraged Iโd felt in weeks.
โNo one taught me. I learned what I must. Toโโ The word eluded me. I settled on, โTo dance.โ
โDance?โ
โYes.โ I snapped my fingers as the word I was searching for came to me. โPerform. In Threll.โ
It took a moment for understanding to flood across Maxโs features, dimming some of his enthusiasm with a shade I couldnโt quite identify. โI see. It makes sense that you would be self-taught.โ
He grunted as he pushed himself to his feet. I did the same, if only because I didnโt like the idea of him staring down at me.
โMore than anything,โ he said, โThe Orders care about control. That was why they were founded to begin with, to make sure that Wielders werenโt going to accidentally wreak destruction simply because they didnโt know what the hell they were doing. And to the Ordersโ credit, they fulfill that role very well. When Wielders wreak destruction, itโs usually because they want to. Unless weโre talking about Moth and my roses.โ Max glowered at the scalded flowers for just a moment before turning back to me.
โYou seem to like conjuring, so letโs start there. And, thereโs potential with that. That thing you do, turning the butterflies into glass? Thatโs impressive for a Valtain. They struggle with physical things like that.โ
I must have looked pleased with myself, because he raised a finger.
โDonโt get too full of yourself. Your accuracy is still a mess.โ He picked up a flower โ a little yellow one with layers and layers of tiny, long petals. โLetโs start with this. I want you to make me a copy of this flower.โ
Easy. I began to smile, but again, he raised that finger.
โNo. Get that cocky smirk off your face. Iโm not asking for what youย thinkย this flower looks like. Thisย exactย flower. Every little detail the same.โ
I looked from Max, to his raised hand, to the little yellow flower โ all of those layers and layers of petals. I was sure I could do it. But was it really any more impressive than my own tricks? People liked performances. They liked to beย dazzled. And I would certainly need to dazzle the Orders to accelerate myself.
โThis will really help me impress in tests?โ I said, skeptical.
โAre you implying that Iโm leading you astray?โ
The look on my face must have betrayed that I knew almost none of those words.
Max let out a breath through his teeth. โListen. Many people believe that Fragmented Valtain are less capable.
The idea being that Valtain magic bleaches hair and skin, so by that logic, someone like youโฆโ
Someone like me would be inherently less powerful. I nodded, glancing down at my hand and my two tan fingers. Those patches of gold had hurt my value as a slave, and now they hurt my value as a Valtain, too.
โItโs not proven. The point is, many people, especially full Valtain, will be expecting you to fail. Theyโll be looking for reason to prove that youโre not capable of doing this. Weโll make sure that you knock their moon-obsessed robes off, absolutely. But when you do it, you need to be technicallyย perfect.โ
Weโll make sure.ย Apparently, there was a โweโ now.
I had to admit, I was pleasantly surprised โ if somewhat perplexed โ by how quickly Max had gone from trying to drive me away to being so deeply invested in my success.
โI will be,โ I said.
โYouโd better. I have other things I could be doing. Make it worth it.โ Max handed me the flower. โRemember.ย Exact.โ
IT TURNEDย out that my little assignment was harder than I thought it would be.
My first flower came easily, hovering, silver and translucent, between my hands. But Max took one look at it and shook his head.
โWhat did I tell you? Thatโs notย thisย flower. Itโsย aย flower. Or worse, what youย thinkย a flower looks like. Thereโs nothing real about that.โ
It took only one more long look at what I had created to realize that he was right. My creation was too perfect, formed in rows of tear-shaped, identical petals that looked
real from a distance but revealed themselves to be eerily fake up close.
I nodded, letting the flower dissolve into the air. Then tried again.
And again.
And.
Again.
Too big. Too small. Too perfect. Too symmetrical. โYouโre duplicating petals,โ Max pointed out.
โI know,โ I muttered. I didnโt mean to duplicate, but it was so hard not to. My mind felt too thick and clumsy to create all of that detail. My headย pounded. But I offered no objection, no complaint.
Hours passed. My conjurings began to take longer and longer, flickering and writhing in the air like smoke. Soon Max and I both had to squint into blinding sunset light.
โWe can stop for the day,โ Max said, rising to his feet. โEven experienced Wielders would struggle with this. You donโt have to get it tonight.โ
But I didnโt look away from my translucent flower as I replied, โNo.โ
โWhat?โ
โNo. We do not stop.โ
He paused mid-step, looking perplexed. โThis isnโt typically the context in which Iโd like to hear that. But my answer is the same nonethelessโ He turned back around, slumping back to the ground, quirking one eyebrow at me in a skeptical challenge. โIf you can do it, I can do it.โ
Oh, I could do it.
So, we resumed โ me creating flower after flower and Max telling me all the ways in which it was wrong. By this point, I knew before he opened his mouth exactly how it was lacking, and I was already letting it dissolve by the time the words left his lips. By then, all final dregs of sunlight had long ago disappeared beneath the horizon, leaving us in darkness. Max opened fire in his palms and
placed it on the ground, where it hovered in an eerie, self-contained ball.
โCould I do that?โ I asked, without looking away from five-trillionth flower.
โI donโt know. Can you?โ
I flicked me eyes to the fire ball. Fire had always been difficult for me, like it was speaking a language I didnโt quite understand.ย Sparks, really,ย Max had called it. He wasnโt wrong.
But I said, casually, โIโm sure yes,โ as if it were nothing. He chuckled.
Flowers and flowers evaporated into the night. Maxโs responses grew slower and less enthusiastic. Eventually, he stood up and stretched. โAlright. Iโm done. Sleep.โ He said it as if he couldnโt conjure the energy to create more complete sentences.
โYou go. I will stay.โ
A brief, surprised pause. โAre you sure?โ โYes.โ
โRamming your head against the wall will probably get less effective over time.โ
โI donโt know what thatโs meaning.โ
โIt means, donโt kill yourself. But then again, Iโm in no position to judge, I suppose.โ I heard the door open, even as my eyes were unwaveringly focused on the petal I sculpted. โGood luck.โ
A bitter smile twisted the edges of my mouth. โI do this so I donโt need luck.โ
โI canโt decide if that response is charming or terrifying.โ
And with that, he closed the door, leaving me in silence, singularly focused on my work.
It was comforting in a way to have something to fight for, to push myself beyond the shadow of talent and forge my success out of something stronger. There was a certain meditative quality about throwing myself against a stone
wall again and again, chipping away at it. I could feel it cracking beneath my fingers, even as I felt it crackingย me.ย At the end, one of us would be left standing. And I wasnโt about to let myself break.
I eventually began conjuring each petal individually, figuring out how to hold the others in my mind as I moved on to the next one and the next and the next. And then, after that, I forced myself a step further: figuring out how to turn it into glass without letting all of those separate petals slip through the grasp of my mind.
The sounds of the nighttime bugs and creatures faded. The sky turned purple. My vision blurred, my head grew leaden, throbbing behind my eyes, ears, temples.
Tisaanah.
It was Esmarisโs voice at first, accusing and pleading all at once.
โTisaanah.โ The murkiness dripped away, peeling back the memory of my former masterโs face, his betrayal.
I opened my eyes to see a bright sky, tree branches and green leaves encroaching on the edges of my vision. And a pair of angular, bright blue eyes looking down at me from beneath perplexed brows.
I had fallen asleep.
โI told you that slamming your head against the wall wouldnโt work,โ Max said.
My head sure felt like it had been slammed againstย something.ย It throbbed so intensely that the colors of my vision grew brighter and dimmer with every rhythmic beat of pain. I reached to my side, my fingers groping in the dirt, closing gently around something hard.
โIt didnโt?โ I smiled at him as I opened my fingers to reveal a glass flower โ every petal different, perfectly imperfect, an exact replica.
Iโd never tasted anything sweeter than the quiet, muted surprise on Maxโs face as he took the flower from me, turning it around in his fingers.
โGood,โ he said, finally. There was a hint of a question mark at the end, as if he wasnโt quite sure what to make of it.
I let my throbbing head fall back into the grass, allowing the flowers to hide my grin. Gods, I forgot how wonderful it felt to exceed expectations.