Trials (An ErasermicXreader Medieval AU)

Chapter 8

"Th-then why didn't the others kill me, why did they drag me to the church?" you whimpered.

"It's hard to explain. It's a deep tradition in their family, a belief that only those of the main family branch can kill a practitioner of the occult." Shotua explained, letting off the sides of your face and grabbing your clenched hands instead. "They believe we reincarnate into another magic user when we die, that is if we aren't killed properly. While anyone can kill our mortal flesh, only a member of the main family bloodline can kill our souls."

"Is that true?" Your eyes grew with fear.

"No.' Hizashi chimed in. "We're human, Y/n."

"You're human." Shouta whispered to you. "You're not a monster, not on the way they think you are, not in the way that bastard clergyman condemned you to be and not in the way you think you are. You're human."

"I-he- he would have killed me." you told yourself. "He would have killed me."

It felt good, like you'd been freed from a weight beyond your capacity to carry. You told yourself again and again until you started to really believe it. Until anger burgeoned in your chest and you felt the familiar sensation of magic flaring from your fingertips. You looked down at your hands and saw a pale purple glow about them, as if the power had been waiting beneath your skin's surface for you to call upon it this whole time. It felt as if there had been a wall between you and your magic and it had suddenly come crashing down and now you could command it freely.

"There it is." Hizashi whispered.

You looked at him and suddenly realized that you'd left his leg half treated, and just like that the glow about your hands fizzled out.

"You're leg!" You squeaked. "I forgot what I was doing!"

"It's my fault," Hizashi laughed openly "I distracted you."

You looked at the pile of herbs you'd dropped in your lap, wiping the crusted tears from the corners of your eyes when an idea sparked in your mind. You pictured a stone bowl about the size of your hand and took a deep breath, willing the bowl to form in your hand from the rounded bottom to the curved lip. Sure enough a semi-translucent purple hued bowl appeared in your cupped palms, it was even cold against your palm like stone. That was new, you'd never been able to create anything with a different temperature than your own body before. You smiled to yourself, the bowl feeling more like a trophy then a hunk of stone to grind herbs in. Next you envisioned a pestle and willed it to appear in your other hand, it took you a little longer this time since you already have one item out but you finally managed to solidify the pair of items into existence.

"Well, shit." Shouta breathed next to you. "That's useful."

"Occasionally." you smiled at him.

"Can you, like, make bigger things?" Hizashi asked, leaning forward to get a better look.

"I'm not sure." You shrugged. "The largest item I made was a sword."

"Right." Hizasih nodded. "We'll need to experiment later, then."

"Experiment?" You asked to look up at him, he'd never looked so thoughtful.

"We are teachers, remember?" Shouta reminded you as he scooted back towards Hizashi to lean against him.

You got to work cleaning and disinfecting Hizashi's leg with the dark leaf ground up in some water to make a thin salve. He groaned and complained nearly the whole time, although you could tell it was more for dramatic flare than him not being able to handle the poking a prodding you were doing. You were learning very quickly that Hizashi liked to alleviate tension, even when the tension was surrounding him being injured. There were no pity parties allowed on his behalf, that was for sure.