Chapter 23
Dain
The fire spell came from the second-floor practice hall window and it
was not aimed at Cyan.
It was aimed at the wall above the corridor where Cyan happened to be
walking â€" a stray cast, poorly contained, the kind of thing that
happened when Bronze-rank students pushed their output too hard in the
practice halls. The ball of Pyros broke through the window frame, arc'd
outward, and would have scorched the corridor wall messily if it had
reached it.
It didn't reach the wall.
It reached Cyan first, or rather Cyan's absorption radius, and simply
ceased. Not dissipated â€" ceased. Here one moment, drawn into his palm
the next, the warmth of it settling into his already-pressurized
reserves.
He kept walking.
A voice behind him said, very clearly: 'What.'
He turned.
On the corridor behind him, a tall Bronze-rank student in practice
clothes was staring at the space where the fire spell had been. He was
maybe seventeen, broad-shouldered, with the kind of face that was
currently doing several things at once â€" surprise, calculation, and the
beginning of something that was going to become enthusiasm whether Cyan
wanted it to or not.
'You just absorbed a Pyros ball,' the student said.
'I was walking,' Cyan said.
'It hit you and you just â€" it went away. Into your hand.' The student
pointed at Cyan's gloved right hand with the expression of someone who
had seen something that had rearranged their understanding of a
situation.
'You should tell the practice hall instructor about the containment
failure,' Cyan said. 'The window frame is damaged.'
'I know, that was mine, I'm Dain.' He said it like one continuous
thought. 'That was definitely my fault. I pushed the output too hard,
I've been working on a strength-volume technique that Instructor Hale
said was ill-advised and she was probably right. But you â€"' he pointed
again. 'You absorbed it. With your hand. That's not a standard
Bronze-rank thing.'
'No,' Cyan agreed.
'What rank are you?'
Cyan showed him the provisional badge.
Dain looked at it. 'Null result?'
'Yes.'
'But you absorbed a â€"' Dain looked at the corridor wall, then at Cyan,
then at the wall, apparently running through the physics of what he'd
just seen and finding them confusing. 'That's not how null results
work.'
'Apparently not.'
Dain was quiet for about three seconds, which seemed to be near his
limit for quiet.
'I'm from the Ashen Reaches,' he said. 'I've seen some unusual mana
profiles on dungeon runners out there. People whose abilities don't fit
standard categories. The Academy usually doesn't take them because the
rank system can't classify them properly.' He crossed his arms. 'You're
one of those.'
Cyan looked at him.
'I'm not going to tell anyone,' Dain said. 'I mean obviously I'm not,
that would be â€" no. I'm just saying I get it. Or I get enough of it.' He
paused. 'What I'm saying is, if you need someone who's not going to make
your unusual ability profile into a problem, I'm available for that.'
Cyan studied him. The mana signature was solid Bronze, well-developed,
the kind that came from consistent training rather than raw talent. He
was telling the truth â€" Cyan had gotten reasonably good at reading
people through their mana output, the way anxiety or dishonesty created
small fluctuations in passive generation.
'Why?' Cyan said.
Dain shrugged. 'Because I just hit you with an unsanctioned spell and
you didn't report me, and also because weird abilities are more
interesting than normal ones and I've been at this Academy for two weeks
and it's already boring.'
Cyan thought for a moment.
'You should fix the window,' he said, and kept walking.
Dain fell into step beside him like he'd been invited, which he hadn't,
but which Cyan found himself not objecting to.
'My containment needs work,' Dain said conversationally. 'I've been told
this multiple times by multiple people. I'm working on it.'
'Work faster,' Cyan said.
Dain grinned. 'Yeah. Probably.'