Chapter 548: Feel No Pain

Having told his friends nothing of his condition, Owyn returned to the Academy to find classes cancelled for one week in favour of the staff and student volunteers making repairs to the Third Ward and investigating the dungeon. The consensus amongst students seemed to be that because no one had really patrolled the dungeon in a few years, the monsters had grown their numbers to the point of the crisis. The Adventurer’s Guild, which had grown increasingly defunct since the descent of the Veil, was being threatened with disbandment.

Rumour had it that the city Knights would be tasked with clearing the dungeon regularly, along with students who took up Knight courses.

Since the school was informed he was injured in the incursion, he didn’t get to volunteer. Far from bringing him joy, having the extra time off only made thinking about his condition almost unavoidable. That is, until, on the morning of the second day, he was going around cleaning his room and found himself holding the communication stone.

Maybe someone outside knows about this sort of condition... He held little hope, but if he could avoid having to transform himself and keep his magic, then he felt he should at least try to find such a solution.

But first, he had to make sure he was alone.

Opening his door, he looked around, then called out, "Hey, Rikael!"

His taciturn roommate opened his door and called back, before walking within view. He was wearing slightly baggy pants and a fairly large blue tunic with cutouts for his white wings. His uniform shoes tapped with every step before he stopped. "What’s up?"

"Just wanted to ask what you’re up to today," Owyn said innocently. "See if anything interesting is going on."

"I got invited to an angelic students’ meeting. But that’s not until after noon," the angel replied. "Why? Do you need some alone time?"

Rikael’s insightfulness was one of his most annoying features, but in this case, Owyn was grateful for the opening. "Yeah, um, I’m supposed to work on my recovery. Some of the exercises are a bit embarrassing, but I need the living room space." He wasn’t technically lying; the packet he’d been sent home with involved some weird stretches, which were more about avoiding pain during transformation than stilling his mana. The parts on stilling his mana were more meditative than anything else. "I’d prefer to do them alone."

"Alright," Rikael shrugged. "I’ve got stuff I can take care of in the city." Without even returning to his room, Rikael left as Owyn was in the middle of thanking him.

After, Owyn slipped up to the door and listened for footsteps. Hearing none, which he found a little strange so early into Rikael’s departure, he locked the door and went back to his room, feeding a little magic into the stone and feeling a sharp pain like needles in the tips of his fingers. Unlike the sigil at the hospital, the stone had no internal mana supply for activation. He made activating it more bearable by reducing the flow rate until the pain became merely an unpleasant burn, applying his mana to keep it topped off so as not to drain it too quickly.

The whole process took him almost half an hour before the stone was fully ready, and Aban responded.

"What is it, Owyn? I’m a little busy today."

"Can you put me in touch with Sarisha?" He knew the village healer, having fetched herbs and run a few discovered flowers by her in the past. The witch was older than dirt, around two hundred, but a youthful forty-ish in appearance, thanks to achieving some heights with her healing magic. Because her hair was white like his, he’d sometimes wondered if she might be his secret grandmother, if he hadn’t already known his parents came from the Imperial Archipelago.

"What’s wrong? Catch a disease over there?" Aban asked impatiently. "Tell me the symptoms; I can run it by her. Though I thought you’d be in better hands, given how ’magical’ the place sounded."

"It’s complicated. I wouldn’t want you to miscommunicate something important."

"My answer still stands. And I’ve got a lot of work I need to get back to," Aban said with a finality that Owyn took as a sign not to push things.

"Fine..." Owyn said, not wanting to give power over himself to Aban. He was fortunately prepared to lie a little. "I’ve got this friend who was hurt in an attack..." He laid out the symptoms, pretending his friend was a mage in training, and imagining Rikael, despite their not being friends.

"Uh-huh, so this ’friend’ can’t do any magic?"

"More that he shouldn’t try," Owyn replied. But then he remembered something about the night of the attack. There was a type of magic that didn’t hurt him to use... Maybe he could still do bard magic? What would he need for it? The first thing that came to mind was songs... So after a moment of listening to Aban prognosticate on the one time he saw someone burn out their magic, Owyn asked, "Hey, would you be willing to let me listen in on some songs next time a bard is in? My friend is something of a bard, and I just realised new songs from outside would probably make him very happy."

"They have magic bards?" Aban let out a barking laugh. But then he was all business. "You’re asking me for two things now, Owyn. I’ll need something in return."

"Fine," Owyn agreed. "What do you want?" His thinking at this point was that having new songs would help him get on the good side of the one bardic mage he knew, Rose, as well as perhaps help him earn his keep if he ultimately lost his magic.

"Hmm... knowledge for knowledge. I want you to tell me about the strongest mages on that side. And more importantly, how they got strong."

"Are you sure you have enough time for that?" Owyn asked.

"I can make time," Aban said. "But you’d still better start talking now..."

With a resigned sigh, and believing nothing Aban could do would match the power he’d seen from them, Owyn began to describe the House of Stars. He avoided saying any of their names, but described some of the training he went through to alter his mana capacity and the guns he’d gotten to use.

Sometimes Aban would interject about things like there being two nine-tailed foxkin, and all the weirdness about their being a ’polycule,’ his word for what had been described to Owyn as a constellation. During such times, Owyn simply gave the minimalist answers he could, finding Aban’s opinions alternatingly lewd and prejudiced, as if he considered the beastkin less than people and the angels and demons as walking tropes.

But then Aban proved he shared one trait with Rikael, and that was an irritating level of insight. "So, you’ve given me some of what I want, but I noticed you haven’t said any names. Why is that?"

"Would it matter to you? You’re on the other side of the Veil."

"They call the barrier ’the Veil?’ I like that. But indulge me, or I might consider your side of the deal incomplete."

Owyn suppressed a growl. Matching wits against Aban was starting to make his head hurt, on top of his hand, which was developing shallow cuts along the fingers. As much as he hated to admit it, Aban had him by the balls even if he didn’t know it. "Alright then, but this is the last thing."

"For now," Aban said, and Owyn could hear the cocky smile in those two words. "Just tell me who’s in charge, since you said they’re the most powerful in the city."

Owyn did just that, starting with the family members he’d met and giving vaguer descriptions of the ones he hadn’t as he worked his way up from what he perceived as the least active in city politics to the most active. A part of him felt like he should have asked Arc for permission or advice, but that would mean revealing he’d been able to speak to the outside world for months, and at this point, he had no doubt that would only bring trouble.

It was when he came to the last name, however, that something surprising happened.

"What did you say?!" Aban’s voice grew harsh and angry the moment the name of the House of Star’s patriarch left Owyn’s lips.

"I said he’s on the city council, and he’s something called a ’metatron’."

"Not that! His name. Say it again!"

"Kir Gale..."

"Kir... not Kiryu?" Aban sounded a bit unhinged.

"Not that I know," Owyn confessed. "Why?"

"Nothing," Aban snapped, before Owyn heard him breathe deeply. "I’ll get you all the songs you want the day after tomorrow. We’re having a funeral, so be ready around the same time it is for you now, tomorrow."

"Oh," Owyn said sadly, "Who was it that died?"

"The Chief," Aban said, and a cold spike went down Owyn’s spine.

"How did that happen?" The Chief had always seemed as cold and invincible as a mountain. A giant amongst giants whose every axe swing could fell a monster.

"Heart attack," Aban said, not a single mote of sorrow in his voice. "Poor guy couldn’t handle his son beating the shit out of him in front of the Vioja families. So you can say ’hello’ to your new Chief right now."

Owyn swallowed the knot in his throat. Now he knew for sure that if he ever made it back, Aban could set the whole clan against him. Maybe there would be holdouts amongst Owyn’s parent figures, but that only meant they were more likely to fall with him if they helped him against whatever revenge Aban wanted for Owyn’s refusal to kowtow to him.

"Goodbye, Chief," Owyn said flatly, his voice betraying him with a note of dread.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Aban replied, before Owyn cut off the mana he was feeding to the stone.

For a long, long moment, he kept still, processing everything in the conversation over and over again... until a sudden knock made him jump out of his skin.

"Who is it?" Owyn shouted from his room as he stood and approached the door, peering through the peephole to find nobody in the hall.

"It’s me!" Arc said from above, and he turned to find her with the trapdoor open just enough for her face to be seen. "I’m about to head out for lunch. Wanted to know if you’d come with. Maybe unpack some stuff about what happened..."

She could only be talking about the incursion. And given her role... she probably didn’t want to leave him unsupervised again. Avoiding trouble because her ex-grandmas took the heat didn’t mean she was entirely off the hook. And the attempted kidnapping of Raven was being investigated by none other than the human girl’s father.

"I’d really appreciate it if you came," Arc smiled at him.

Or maybe she just genuinely wanted to be with him? It would be a chance to tell her about his condition and maybe ask her out...

"I’d love to," Owyn replied, smiling back.

"Awesome!" Arc replied, seeming a bit relieved. "Meet me at the bus stop?"

Owyn almost said, "It’s a date," but felt too embarrassed to, remembering how soft her lips had been when reviving her. So instead, he said, "See you there."