An Ocean of Lies (AFOS II)

Chapter 18: Laurentius

He could feel the magic in his veins, bubbling, multiplying, bursting out of his fingertips. He sealed the door with a powerful ward using the momentum, his ears hummed, his heart bumped so hard there was a slight chance it would stop: just like Markolf's. The rage made his magic move faster, leave his blood as if beckoned out by a knife. Did it count as blood magic? There wasn't time to dwell into theories. Thanks to his ward, Irene's hands were free to enhance the immobilizing spell on the students. He did the same with the Onturians, reached into their minds with magical tendrils, a soft humming tuning them to his own, lulling. He couldn't feel Markolf's mind, his essence was still there somewhere, lingering, his spirit too. He remembered Adela's experiment, would it work? It had to. It wouldn't be the first time he defied death, he might as well try.

He focused on the magic currents around him, always changing and swirling around the College, towards the Ocean. Spirits felt different. A tingle hovering over Markolf's dead body, something disrupting the magic around it: that had to be him, it felt fresh, uncorrupted, he was still there. He focused all his magic towards his spirit, tethering it with invisible threads. The adrenaline in his veins augmented his power, but it wasn't enough. He needed Koldo's wand. "Irene, can you fly the remaining knights to the Alley? Over there, near the inn," Jo's grandmother's inn.

He would pick Markolf up, keep his spirit tethered to its body with magic, like Adela's hummingbird. His body was dead, the connection was just as strong as he could make it. It was all highly experimental, if he managed to pull it off —why was he so excited? He had to be concerned, distressed, his soon-to-be ex-boyfriend was dead and he had to bring him back, to, surprise! Kick him in the gut with the news. Fun, it was going to be so much fun. Irene nodded, she could do it. Of course she could, she was better than she gave herself credit for. They walked, avoiding the firedust lampposts, hiding in the shadows. The hovering knights made a rattle over their heads, their armors weren't exactly made of cotton, but the city was asleep, the windows closed, protected from the fog. The city guard wouldn't bother to make rounds near the college that night, given that the Onturian Knights were posted at its doors. Luckily. It wouldn't be long until Adela managed to lift the wards on the front doors, they needed to hurry.

The alley behind the inn was dark, as usual. A lonely light on the second floor, probably Wyn, was the only sign of life at that time. The curfew had killed the inn's late-night business, it seemed. He instructed Irene to leave the knights on the floor, by the trashcans, sitting, as if they'd dropped there after a night of heavy drinking. He couldn't task her with keeping the magic flowing between Markolf and his spirit, it was hard, draining, and delicate. Also, incredibly illegal: he was about to make a revenant, sort of. But Irene didn't need to know, did she? It was better that way. If he got caught, she would be entirely innocent.

"Irene, I need you to do something for me, will you? Can you throw a snowball to that window? My arms are tired from holding my, huh, fainted friend you see," he coughed.

"Would you like me to hold him instead? I'm stronger than I look," she fumbled with her fingers.

"Look, my boyfriend is shy. He doesn't like it when strangers shake his hand or hug him, he would die if he'd know a girl touched his rear while he was out. Would you like that?" it was a lie. Markolf wasn't shy, at all, but something told him Irene had personal space issues. She'd relate.

"I get it. I'll do it, but look, I'm not very good at focalized magic, ok? I'll probably end up bursting the window. Fair warning, I guess?" she bit her cheeks.

"I'll take the risk," Laurentius sighed, dramatically. "Now, please? I think I heard Adela's angry screaming, or was it a seagull?" he smirked. The girl giggled, her shoulders relaxed. She held onto her staff, briefly, channeling magic to conjure some elemental ice.