Chapter 39

Although your terms are not entirely agreeable to us, we do trust in your wisdom on the use of new weapons. In the years after this war, we look forward to a time when both our nations can make new scientific advances in unison with one another, as good cousins should. Until then, the suggested costs are acceptable to us.

Letters from King Octavius III to Emperor Lanius. Dated 1573. Held in the Octavius Memorial Library, Ofprovo.

“It looks much smaller,” Celeste muttered.

“Do you think it's because the military camps have gone? Well, mostly.”

Celeste shook her head. She tilted it slightly, as though the change of perspective might bring Teldomia into clearer focus. “I guess it's experience. Nothing seems so big once you've seen Commodal. It is very weird that they haven't allowed a single factory to be built here.” She shrugged.

“It would have been nice to see that city once. Still, it can't be helped.” Melanie sighed as she finished unwrapping her weapons.

They were stood on the plateau nearest to Teldomia. It would be a short run for them, across the muddy plain and up the city walls. The Windrusa Palace looked like a soiled rag capping off the pathetic city. It had all seemed so grand once. But that was simply the delusion of a girl tricked into fighting a war for a tyrant.

“Of course, it is possible he won't be in,” Melanie pointed out. She handed a set of spare ammunition for their rifles to Celeste.

“He will be,” Celeste said, glancing down at the bullets in her hand. “It isn't like the coward has spent any more time at the front than he needed to. And, of course, the newspapers reported that he had returned to his capital.”

“You’re probably assuming they’re far more accurate than they really are. Still, it is as good a place as any to check.”

Celeste pocketed the ammunition and reached up to check her braid. The bell she'd tied in at the end jingled in response. She slung the gun on her back and checked her swords. They abandoned their packs here. Their weapons were all they would need, and even that might be overkill for the two wizards.

“Let's go,” Celeste said, and with that, they both leapt from the Plateau.

Together they ran with the aid of Celeste's magic across the once farmland, churned up by the continuous processions of soldiers. It had been bustling when she had first seen it. Maybe it was that lack of people, maybe it was something in the clouds that day, but Celeste felt a grim air over the city. Or maybe she was simply externalising her own feelings.

They reached the walls unseen, or at least unimpeded. Together they scaled the unimpressive walls. On to the rooftops, one layer of tiles then a wall then another. It moved in a blur, flashes of memory of her last time here plaguing her mind. Her last conversation with Tesni before the war truly began. Watching the parades. Breathing in the patriotism. Had that been all it took to infect her mind for so long ago, or was she just too stupid to realise how evil she had been for too long?

They ascended to the roof of the palace, where she had first arrived in this city, and headed to the eastern side. They dropped onto a ledge below. In front of them was a colossal stained-glass window. Celeste had seen smaller things like this when they were travelling through the lowlands, stopping at all the churches they could, for Teo's sake. For his sake, this was all for his sake.

She couldn't make out the pattern in the glass. Maybe it was depicting something she didn't have the cultural background to understand, but even if she did, she was simply too close for the pattern to be decipherable. Instead, she leant her ear against it to listen, to listen for her target. She could make out voices though she didn't know what the king sounded like. Tone of voice was enough for her to go on.

She flipped out her watch, checking the time absently before closing the gold case again and gently kissing it.

“Are you ready?” She whispered to Melanie.

The other woman met her eyes for a long moment, before taking a hold of her hand still around the watch. “Whenever you are. Always.”

Celeste held Melanie's face, lightly, and kissed her one last time. She then turned away and let rage fill her. With a single motion, she let the fire burst out. She swung forwards and smashed through glass and lead, making a hole enough for her and Melanie to jump through.

They fell about five meters onto the flagstones at one end of the colossal hall. It was bathed in a myriad of colours from the window behind them, tinting the green uniforms of the men in front of them. The hall must have been used for other purposes, it was too wide and tall not to be filled with people, but right now the only furniture was a single long table around which thirteen men stood. Celeste's attention turned only to one of them. His back was turned to her, but she would have recognised the jet-black hair even without the gaudy crown on top of his head.

The king turned, along with everyone else, to see who had interrupted their ever so important meeting. They seemed stunned for a moment; all conversation silenced. That just gave Celeste the chance she needed.

“King Octavius the Third of Laociena. You have failed to protect your people, you have sentenced thousands of them to die for your personal squabble. For that, for all the innocents who have died for your whims, I will not grant you a quick death.” The words tumbled from her mouth, maybe faster than she'd planned them. For as much as she had planned them. What she said felt right in the moment, and if she could recall it accurately later, she would have continued to stand by every one of them.

The king opened his mouth as if to argue, but she didn't let a single sound escape his mouth. She brought her hand up and pointed a finger towards his head. His eyes bulged and he clutched his throat as though there might be a way to get air into it.

Celeste knew the sensation. She had done it to herself, when she had no other options. It was hell to have the air snatched out of your lungs. And it wasn't nearly what he deserved, there was nothing she could do that would serve him anything resembling justice.

The king fell to his knees now, gasping audibly for a second. She threw out a second finger and a second vacuum to catch his head as he collapsed onto the cold stone. She wasn't sure how long exactly it would take to kill him, but she wasn't going to let up until she felt confident the last bit of life had left the body of the tyrant.

It wasn't that simple, however. The gasp of the dying man had awoken the others from their state of shock. Glancing up at them as they came forward, Celeste guessed about half of them were wizards. But even those who weren't were drawing their swords, ready to fight the pair.

Melanie slung her rifle off her back. They had a good ten metre gap between themselves and the king's men, but that could be closed very fast. Melanie raised the rifle to her shoulder and shot the first man to start moving in the neck. He dropped, grabbing hold of his wound. He looked magical so he might have some fight left in him.

Before she could line up another shot, one of the wizards darted forwards. Had he teleported, or was he just that fast? Celeste didn't have time to consider that. He struck at Melanie with his sword. She blocked with the body of the rifle before swinging the stock up into his face. The wizard dodged and swung at Melanie again. She could block but it would stop her from using the rifle properly or drawing her own sword.

Celeste glanced down at the collapsed body of the king. He was probably dead by now. And Melanie needed her help more.

She turned her arms away from the king and spun, letting fire erupt from her and swinging a fist at the wizard. He darted away just in time to avoid a flaming hand to the face. She finished her spin to face the king's men, standing side by side with Melanie.

“Together?” She muttered to Melanie.

If the woman answered, she didn't hear. By then she had brought up her own rifle and began firing at the gathered men. She didn't aim, simply wrenching back the bolt and pulling the trigger. The wild shots were more to disperse the men than actually hurt them, though a few bullets did find flesh.

Celeste considered reloading the gun but looking down it was obvious she had destroyed the firing mechanism. That was fine. She spun the gun around and drew a sword. The quick wizard came for her this time. She pre-empted his movements and smashed him in the face with the heavy wood of the rifle. She followed up with the sword quickly to his gut, then to his throat.

As the wizard's corpse fell off her blade, she had a realisation. These men must have been advisors to the king. Thinkers, or at least men capable of pretending to think. The wizards might have had some training and the noble among them definitely would have learnt to sword fight. But they hadn't spent the years fighting as Celeste and Melanie had. They were hardly a threat.

Two men, both mundane, charged her. After a few desperate parries, she realised they were superior with their swords. Not that two against one was fair anyway. She threw her arms back and saw in their faces their belief they had an opening. As the fire erupted from behind her, they stumbled backwards. Not quick enough to escape the flaming swords.

She grabbed hold of the spare ammunition she had and threw it towards the regrouping men who seemed to be turning their attention on Melanie. With a flaming sword, she sliced through the bullets, the fire igniting the gunpowder within in a deafening explosion.

In the chaos, she leapt over to stand by Melanie's side. She knew she fought better side by side than when they were alone.

“Together,” Melanie muttered, before they threw themselves into the fray once more.

Finally, they came to a rest. Celeste leant against the table, now charred in several places, the papers and maps that had been carefully laid across it now scattered. The bodies lay all around them. Some bloody, others looking nearly unharmed.

“We should make sure he's properly dead,” Celeste muttered, strolling over to where the body of the king still lay, unharmed throughout the fight.

Melanie got there first and crouched, pressing her fingers to his neck. “Surprisingly, he's still got a pulse. But even if he wakes up, he won't be in a good state.”

“Well, he's not going to wake up, is he.” Celeste raised her sword up high and plunged it into his neck. There was a slight gurgle and then nothing more. A king was dead. “This is the second great man I've killed. The second that will be remembered in history while I and my people will be ignored. But no matter the shadows they cast, killing them doesn't feel any different than all the meaningless men I've killed.”

“Who was the first?” Melanie asked.

“The first? Oh, General Tosetti.”

“So, you were the one they got to do that.”

Celeste turned to see the other women inspecting the papers on the desk. She had found a stack of papers that she was flipping through rapidly scanning each sheet.

“What have you found?”

“Private letters of king Octavius. Ones sent to him anyway. There is a whole set here from a representative of the imperial throne of Ofprovo,” She explained, handing a sheet to Celeste.

She examined it briefly. It seemed to be a negotiation regarding the treaty between the two nations and based on this one sheet and the date of it, not all if the terms had actually been worked out at the time the king and emperor had signed the treaty itself.

“So, they were lying about things, we knew that already,” Celeste said, putting the paper back down to examine one of the maps. One of the labels caught her attention but before she could think about it Melanie spoke again.

“Listen to this though. 'With respect to weapons, although many of our latest designs are currently in production, we have yet to determine their full efficacy. As such, we wish to refrain from providing you with designs or new models. Further field testing is considered necessary by our engineering bodies across a range of situations. The war provides just the place for these tests. When the current conflict draws to a close then we shall negotiate an exchange of technology. I trust in your intelligence to see the unspoken reason why we shall not provide these weapons any earlier.'”

They stood in stunned silence for a while. It didn't take long to fit the pieces together, but considering the ramifications was much more challenging.

“I did think Ofprovian supply trains were being robbed far too easily,” Celeste whispered in disbelief.

“I told my superiors the same thing and they brushed it away, even when I offered to help. They were...Using your men as test subjects, to see how well the weapons would perform. And the Ofprovian men, to see if the new weapons would work if both sides had them.”

“They didn't gas our trench by accident.” There was a deeper bitterness in her voice as she said that. The pain of that 'accident' still bit into her, physically. She turned around and sat against the table, feeling her chest heaving.

You have more vengeance to reap.

“Ofprovo is too far away. The war is already done.”

You think they won't just install the new king? How do you kill a weed? You tear it up by the roots.

“And you are saying?”

This king had a son. He must die too.

“I'm not killing a child!” Celeste said, disgusted by the suggestion. Octavius had sinned but his son? Well, when she considered it, there was no reason to believe the son would be any better, he had been raised by this monster after all.

It is not just that the king was evil though, was it? He had the power to start a war, on his whim all those died. When you kill the bloodline, you kill the monarchy, that power will be gone.

She knew it was playing off her heightened emotions. It always was, of course. But even so, it made some sense to her, a realisation that frightened her deeply.

“I'm not even going to consider this,” She said firmly. She glanced up and noticed Melanie looking at her. “Sorry, you know what spirits are like?” She tried a weak smile.

They were cut off from any further conversation as a door swung open at the far end of the hall. It was an innocuous door disguised within the larger ceremonial doors. An attendant hurried in, holding a note. The young man seemed to be averting his gaze from where he expected the king to be.

“Excuse me, your majesty,” He said softly. He then seemed to register the fact no one was speaking. Nervously he looked up. His eyes widened as he took in the scene of carnage in front of him, and the two wizards in peasant dress. With a cry of distress, he turned and bolted out of the door, crying out for guards as he went.

“I believe that is our cue to leave,” Melanie said. “We've got what we needed here. Now we just have to-”

“Wait. Can you secure that door, I want to look at something?”

Melanie obliged. The mighty double doors of the hall had clearly been designed with a threat in mind. Great poles of wood and metal slid into place to keep it from being opened. That couldn't hold out forever, if they were determined to get in. The doors looked to have been designed in a pre-gunpowder age.

Celeste pulled the map she'd been examining earlier to herself. She pointed to the label that had drawn her attention. Graveyard. She looked for any papers left intact on the table with the word also on them. She found sketches, calculations, but no clear explanation of what the plan was.

“What are you looking for?” Melanie asked, returning from the door.

“I think they were planning something strange, for after the war. Look at this,” She said, handing the other woman the calculations.

“This looks like they’ve been working out how many bodies you could fit in an area. I don't like how big these numbers are.”

“Exactly.”

“What do you think this is? A mass grave for the war dead?”

“Something along those lines. What are the numbers you said?” She asked, thinking back to the classroom all those years ago. “An estimated eighty percent of the population are Wind Worshipers. Assume the same numbers among the soldiers...” Celeste paused, considering the implications of that. “It would be monstrous.”

“Denying them a proper funeral. Even in death, they are serving their nation.” Melanie's voice shared the anger. “Where have they been storing the bodies though? And surely they would have mostly putrefied by now?”

“I have a theory on that second part,” Celeste said, pointing to one of the wizard corpses. Grey, skeletal. Just as he'd looked when she'd met him in the Field Marshal's tent. She hadn't recognised him during the fight. “I believe his spirit came from a cemetery or...somewhere related to the dead.”

“A mausoleum, perhaps.”

“Perhaps. He can identify bodies. Maybe he can preserve them too?”

“Possible.”

“Ah, here. They're keeping the bodies in a cave not too far from here.” Celeste scanned the paper for a moment to double-check that she was correct. “If you wouldn't mind, I have one last task I want to do. We will need-”

She was cut off by the door opening once more. Not a simple creek of wood as a door opened as it should, but the thunderous crack of breaking metal and wood. The poles that had secured the door had shattered in an instant and the two full-sized doors, that would need a team of men to open them normally, had swung open wide enough to give them a full view of the corridor beyond. Stood between the doors as calm as ever, was Tristan.

He was dressed in the loose robes he'd always worn around Tricapon. Perfectly neat on his mis proportioned body, save for the streaks of blood. Tristan raised an overly long arm with precision to brush his bloody hair out of his face, exposing his eyes. At this distance, Celeste couldn't make out the runes, not that she understood them, but she did see them flicking rapidly.

She was stunned for a moment. She was about to call out to him, to ask if he was okay, when she realised not a drop of the blood was his. Behind him, two dozen soldiers lay dead. There wasn't a mark on Tristan, nor a weapon in his hands.

“Headmaster,” Melanie said, before Celeste to pull herself together. “What are you doing here?”

Tristan stood silently for a moment, nodding as if responding to an unheard voice. He then began to stride forward. Even before he spoke, Celeste felt herself recoil instinctively. It was more than the blood and bodies. There was something unsettling to his demeanour that she'd never seen before.

“Well, I've come for Celeste, of course.” He chuckled, a low and cruel sound. “You've proven tougher than I expected, my dear student, but the time for playing is up.”

“What are you saying?” Celeste asked, her sense of dread growing.

“I have waited patiently for four years and yet you've yet to be consumed. I was assured that you would be easy to take, that you could be easily pushed. I've advised kings and emperors never to underestimate the peasantry, and yet I am nearly undone by failing to heed that advice. Thank you, for keeping me humble.”

“Tristan, I don't understand what you're trying to-”

“No, you wouldn't,” He snapped, his voice rising louder. “I will put it in simple terms for you. You are going to keep using your magic until you are consumed.”

“Celeste, we should run,” Melanie said.

Celeste nodded in agreement, but Tristan shook his head, sighing.

“It's because of smart thinking like that that I really needed you out of the picture already. Never mind. You'll work as leverage.” He raised his fingers and for a moment Celeste assumed he was just going to silence her. Then he swung his arm to the side and Melanie was wrenched to the side. She slammed into the wall of the hall, groaning in pain and struggling to move to no effect.

“What was that?” She shouted.

“A third power?” Celeste muttered.

“Oh, just you wait. I hope you're good at keeping count.” With that, Tristan slammed his foot into the ground. The stones below him rumbled and erupted into a wave that surged across the room.

Celeste leapt high over the rumble stones that shot nearly a metre into the air and avoided the table that was flung about the room with them. She'd only just landed when several columns of fire snaked through the air towards her. She threw up her fingers, creating vacuums long enough to stop the fire from touching her.

As the fire died, she focused to understand what had just happened. The fire had originated with Tristan. “How can you have five powers, we were always taught-”

“Oh yes, you were taught, because all knowledge simply ends up in books. You think I would allow my own students to be taught my secrets? The strongest wizards always have them, but I have the most. You're really going to spend your last few minutes alive questioning academic wisdom?”

Celeste stopped herself from responding. She had to examine the facts. He had more powers than he should have, and he wanted her to be consumed. Those two facts were linked, in her mind, but she couldn't figure out how. She would interrogate him properly once she'd restrained him. His powers seemed fully reliant on movements, and she was confident she was a better fighter than him, so as long as she could avoid his magical attacks this would be easy.

“Run!” Melanie called. “Get away from him.”

“Sorry, I'm not going to be doing that,” Celeste muttered, drawing her swords.

She charged at Tristan. She had expected him to at least waiver a little at that, but he stood calm as ever. He raised his hand and a sword flashed into it. They began to clash swords, but he didn’t move like a normal fighter. He stood still, impassive, looming over her, his sword arm moving with a terrifying sense of precision. Though he could easily block and parry her attacks, he didn't try for any kind of counterattack.

Evidently, he grew bored of this play fighting. He threw his sword aside and lunged forwards, grabbing her by the back of the neck. Before she could use this opening to her advantage, he spun her around and down, slamming her into the ground. He placed a finger on her back to push her down. Air was forced from her lungs and as she tried to lift herself back up, she found herself unable. She couldn't overcome his strength.

“See, isn't this easier than guessing at things you can't understand?” He growled, leaning down.

“Fine, you want me empowered?” Celeste managed to wheeze. She was able to throw her arms back just enough to unleash her fire. Tristan evidently pulled back at that because she didn't hit into him as she spun up through the air. She met his face, full of malice and ambition, then Melanie's, a painting of anguish. She landed some metres away and caught her breath. “So, you have six powers? Increased strength as well?”

“Really, you aren't going to give up guessing? Fine, I will humour you. I never did much teaching. The unassuming librarian or the dutiful headmaster. We all play our roles. So now I will play the role of teacher to you who have chosen the role of soldier.” He grinned at her. “Remind me, how does magic work?”

Celeste swallowed. He really was trying to make her feel like she was back at school. “You bind a spirit to your soul and it provides you with two to four discreet powers as well as several other benefits.”

“Limits?”

“You can only bind to one spirit, and you can't unbind it once bound.”

“None of what you've said is wrong.”

“Then how can you-”

“There is more than what you know. If a soul can bind to a spirit, why can't, for example, a soul bind to another?”

“Soul binding is useless,” Melanie cut in. “I read about it, even where it was achieved, the spirits remain bound only to the soul they are bound to.”

“I see someone has been reading ahead,” Tristan said with a laugh. “This is fun.”

“It also requires consent. Both parties have to agree to be bound, to merge their souls, unlike spirits which can be forced, or force.”

“You are very aware of the problems. Why were you reading so much on this?”

“You need something that isn't quite a soul or a spirit anymore,” Celeste said, as the pieces began to fall into place in her mind. “Teodor did say, whatever we become when we're consumed, it retains something of us. The soul and the spirit are in conflict, usually, but they are both there.”

“A bright pupil indeed. The consumed soul is...a damaged thing. Did you know, once a consumed wizard dies they turn to smoke then fade entirely? There was nothing truly physical left of them. But yes, consumption is...Well, even I don't know that. It leaves behind both in a single entity, that I can say for certain. Give me another century, and maybe I will work it out.”

Melanie was still straining to escape the magical trap. “That doesn't work still. If it is the soul you're binding to, you need consent.”

“My original spirit did give me a third power. Tesni is the only one who knows. I can speak with other wizard's spirits, so long as I have touched them once.”

“You need the spirit to give consent to binding,” Melanie muttered.

“So, you've been working with him this whole time? You've been trying to get me killed?” Celeste said, speaking to the entity within her.

Come now, my dear, sweet, Celeste, you've known for almost as long as we've known one another, I have never had your best interests in my...Not heart but, you know. I promise, I never really meant to give us to him.

“You've been using me this whole time!” She cried out, her anger boiling up. It was a warning of how close she was to being consumed already.

“I have been trying to get a spirit like yours, from the meteor showers, for centuries. I was convinced it was real. But you never know when they're coming, and if you prepare someone to bind eventually, they will find another spirit that takes their interest. When Tesni told me about the story, a girl who had exploded with fire as the stars fell, I knew you would be just what I needed.”

“For the whole time I've known you, all I was to you was another piece of power?”

Tristan shrugged. “I must admit, I was fond of you. Your tenacity, it was respectable. But when you've had as long as I have to watch the world slip away, you learn when to be disconnected. Tesni, of course, is fond of you as well, and was determined to teach you. I couldn't say anything without arousing suspicion, so I let you. And any chance I had of you being consumed at school went. I turned to more drastic measures.”

“Those being?” Celeste asked, but as she looked into his dark smile, she knew what it was going to be. “You started a war...just to kill me?”

Tristan burst into a hearty laugh. “Of course not. I'm not that powerful. No. I knew a war had been brewing for a while. Nations have to fight eventually, resources, borders, geography, personal grudges, they force them into it. I simply let them come and discuss terms in my home.”

“You knew I was watching the discussions,” Celeste recalled.

“I put you there. I needed you to have a personal investment in the war, and your faith was important to you.”

“No, no! I ended up there by accident, because I was following Sabina...” It churned her stomach as she realised how deep his manipulation went. “You told me to keep her out of trouble.”

“And I told her spirit when to goad her.” He laughed again, shrugging. “I'm sorry, it must seem so unfair. I've had centuries of practice. I've been working out how to play people off each other for longer than you can conceive. But, now, I think we are all caught up. So, what will be your choice?”

Celeste looked up, meeting his eyes for a moment, before looking to Melanie, still trapped against the wall.

“You have to run. You can't give him this power too.” Melanie begged.

“Just as back then, it is your love that makes you so easy to work. If you leave, if you even step outside that window to try and catch a breeze to soothe yourself, I will kill her.” His voice was growing in ferocity now. “You have seconds of fire left, your spirit has told me so. Give in, be consumed, and I will happily let her go.”

“You started this war. You've caused all this suffering. I'm not going to let you get away with this!” Celeste roared, tightening her grip on her swords.

“I didn't start it. A border skirmish over a few missionaries did. Decades of industrial development did. Centuries of resource hoarding did. Millennia of the legacy of a decrepit empire did. Human nature did. I am simply smart enough to know how to use petty wars to my advantage.”

“It wasn't a petty war. Thousands have died, I've watched...” She swallowed hard and shook her head. “You allowed it to happen.”

“I could have delayed it by ten, thirty years at maximum.”

“He's goading you!” Melanie shouted. “Just run. It's better for everyone.”

I do hate to agree with her, but this isn't a fight we can win. We might not be bound to him once I consume you, sure. He is possibly the only person who will be able to kill us like that, however, so I would recommend a retreat.

The voices all screamed at her at once, pulling her this way and that. She couldn't follow them all, and she shouldn't follow any of them, she knew that now. She loved Melanie. She wasn't going to leave her to die here. She couldn't keep giving up the people she loved. Already today she had killed one great man, what would be one more?

She had seconds of fire left, but there was nothing else that was likely to even dent him. So, all that was left was to try.

She turned her head to face Melanie, one last time. Her mouth hung open for a moment, as she tried to find some final words to say. Instead, she snapped it shut. There was nothing left she needed to say to the other woman.

Their eyes met and there was a pure understanding between them. The hatred and anger, it all burned in Celeste. How could it not, after everything they'd seen and done? But above all that roared the inferno of her love. She had failed everyone else in her life. She wasn't going to fail to protect Melanie now, not when she'd just got her. In that last look, Melanie's icy blue eyes shared that burning love. She couldn't stop Celeste from her recklessness now, so she gave her blessing and all of her love.

She felt stronger for that last moment. The knowledge she would leave behind someone else who could live a full life. She was stronger than she'd ever been before.

“I'm coming to meet you, Tosetti,” Celeste muttered, just to herself. And Tosetti too, if he were floating on the winds, watching over her now. In her final moments, she wasn't sure if she believed in anything beyond her love for Melanie.

“I'm glad you could-”

Tristan may have kept speaking, but Celeste wasn't listening anymore. Fire exploding from her as she shot towards him, with all of magic. Her flaming swords spun out in front of her in a barrage of relentless attacks. Tristan dodged her easily at first. Then he began to slip as he was pressed backwards by her unending assault. He pulled up two swords to try and delay her attacks. They simply melted away.

“How are you-” He cried as her swords kept swinging. “You shouldn't have-” He cried out in pain as her flaming swords finally made contact with his skin, cutting right through. “Just...Give...up!” He shouted.

His shouts were in vain. The flurry of fire and steel didn't stop. It should have done, Celeste realised. She could feel herself pushing way over her capacity for magic. Would she be consumed the moment she stopped, like Matthias?

She didn't consider that. With a final swing, the fire then the real sword sliced through Tristan, severing limb and body apart.

Celeste stood there for a moment. The headmaster lay dead before her. She still burned with magic fire. When she extinguished it, would she die? No, she reasoned. Tristan was old, and knowledgeable, and surely wouldn't have underestimated her after all that he had said. That meant that something must have happened that he wasn't planning for.

She extinguished the fire. A wave of exhaustion came over her. But that didn't seem to be the feeling of being consumed, it wasn't painful. Just exhaustion. Well earned, she felt. Pain flaring in her lungs and she burst into a coughing fit. The pain shuddered through her, but she didn't waste long on it. She turned to check if Melanie was alright.

She had only just finished turning when the other woman crashing into her. Melanie's arms wrapped around Celeste, pulling her into a tight embrace. Celeste smiled absently, adoring the comfort and the affection. Melanie pulled back and held Celeste's face in her hands to gently kiss her.

She pulled back again, panting heavily. Celeste could feel the fear that had coursed through the other woman.

Feel it. Not just empathy. She felt that sense of fear in her own body and mind. Not just a guess based on the breathing of the other woman. Something felt different. As she met Melanie's eyes, she knew the other woman felt the difference.

“How did you survive that?” Melanie asked, speaking unusually fast. “He said...and you seemed to think...” She trailed off. She didn't want to say it, to think about how close it had come.

Celeste nodded. It felt like grovelling, but she realised she had to ask the only being left who might know.

“What just happened?” She asked, in the most level voice she could manage.

I do not want to talk about it.

“What does that mean?” Celeste pushed further. She could see the confusion on Melanie's face and smiled at her weakly.

Because it is stupid. I cannot believe that I have spent years working with someone that stupid. The last time someone tried to use love against you they ended up in a similar condition.

“That doesn't answer my question. How did I survive that?”

He told you how.

Celeste considered that for a moment before her eyes widened. “But I didn't mean to do that.”

It is not about meaning to. You both willingly opened your hearts and reached out to one another. That is consent. I mean, that is a human understanding of concepts that are beyond your perception. I guess it does not matter.

She had stopped listening after the second sentence. “I think we...Bound our souls together,” Celeste muttered. It started to make sense of the weird feelings. The weird sharing of feelings. It wasn't as strong as her own emotions, but she had felt Melanie's, that was for sure.

“So, our souls are as one,” Melanie said softly, reaching up to rest a hand over Celeste's heart. “I guess that increases our magical capacity. I had barely used magic in that fight, so you have plenty of extra from me.”

Yes, exactly. And now you are both at risk from your recklessness.

“What do you mean?” Celeste asked.

If either of you reaches capacity, you both have. You will both be consumed. Not that I know exactly what you would become after that. Maybe one monster, maybe two. Maybe you would just die. Why was he so stupid?

Celeste met Melanie's eyes again and recognised the understanding in them. Her spirit had explained the situation for her as well. Celeste reached up and mirrored the action, feeling the slowing heart rate of the other woman.

“So, what do we do now?” She asked.

Melanie shrugged. “Go where we want, I guess. We could find a little village.”

“By a lake.”

“In the valleys, between the mountains.”

“And we'll build a library.”

“And stay awake until the sun rises.”

Celeste smiled. “I will like that.” She snapped out of the dreamy gaze on her face and looked around at the papers scattered throughout the hall. “But first, we have something important still to do. They have the bodies of all the dead for their mass grave.”

“And you're going to?” Melanie asked.

The shared emotions they had gained didn't give them telepathy, fortunately.

“Well,” She said, holding up a piece of paper to inspect if it was the one she wanted. “I'm not going to do too much. There are four bodies I need to return. I'll need a teleporter, really, and a thief if we can find one. Then I think we should leave these documents with a newspaper. I don't know that it will make people as angry as it should, but they should know.” She turned back to Melanie and smiled.

“And after all that, you need to rest.”

“Yes, after that, we will rest.”