“What’s put you in a mood,” Ginzan drawled, poking Song in the side.

“Nothing,” Song muttered.

Ginzan snorted. “Is it Quy again? He’s seems fine. He came out that damn fight perfectly untouched, didn’t he. I should have known he was worse than even his brother,” he added darkly.

“The students at Immin are asking for you,” Song said instead.

Ginzan’s eyebrows went up as his mouth curved into a grin. “Visited the girls, did you?”

Unfortunately, Ginzan kept up the ribbing, and at the end of the day, he dragged Song out to Immin.

Ginzan took his flute, serenading, and Song felt his heart rise and fall when he spotted Mai hurrying away once again.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that,” Ginzan said, nudging him. “You have an eye on that girl. Let me help you win her over.”

Remembering how Mai had rebuffed Ginzan’s advances as ‘Quy’, Song shook his head. “No. If you tried that...she might just challenge you to a duel. She’s a fire mage.” Song deflated at his words, recognising the truth of them. Mai would do exactly that...and maybe she was gay anyway. Otherwise, why would she had mention it?

Ginzan pursed his lips. “No good will come from that then. Let me find you another girl.”

“No thanks, Ginzan. I’m going home.”

*

“Perhaps your expertise could aid us,” Healer Mage Hong said. She motioned Healer Mage Tien into the patient’s room; Khai followed a step behind. They were in one of the private hospitals, where patients had private rooms with large windows that let in sunlight.

Khai peered at the patient. A middle-aged man, Healer Mage Hong was saying, but he looked far older as the disease aged him. Khai listened as Hong continued on what they had tried, what had failed, and what had helped.

“Very well,” Tien said. “Mai?”

Khai nodded, and went over to the nearby fireplace. He sparked flame on the cold wood logs and built up the fire.

Tien gave him a nod, and drew the flame with her magic and directed it into the patient.

Khai watched closely. And tried not to wince when she did things he wouldn’t do.

She had taught him to heal using the body’s memory. That the body inherently knew best—at least most of the time. But Khai was of the opinion that it didn’t know best quite more frequently—his own body was case-in-point.

And Healer Mage Hong had said that the patient had been sick for years; and the disease had aged him years more. Healing would require winding back a decade of ageing—yet in a decade’s time, nearly all the particles in the body have been replaced. There was no memory of health to recall.

Sweat appeared on his aunt’s forehead. The patient’s breathing eased slightly, but the disease remained.

“Auntie? Healer Mage Hong?” Khai asked in a tiny voice.

Tien withdrew her hands. “Yes, Mai?”

“May I try?”

Tien glanced at Hong, and then turned to Khai. “You are licensed,” she said.

Khai nodded. “Thank you.” He called the fire over to him, and a bit of the heat from the sunlight as well, and reached out. Up close, through his magic, Khai could feel how the patient’s very cells had been warped.

But in the room, were three people whose cells weren’t warped. Khai drew on that, calling the heat-impressions from his aunt, and Healer Mage Hong, and himself, and imposing that order upon the patient’s cells.

And he wasn’t going to be nice about it. The disease riddled every part of the patient’s body, and Khai was going eradicate it. Pride in his own thoroughness, if nothing else.

The disease fought back, retwisting cells Khai had healed.

If I dropped you in lava, you would die, he told it, drawing more and more heat from around him to fuel his battle. Khai healed the organs first, spreading out with each beat of the patient’s strengthening heart; not old smoke wisps of what had been right, but light clear as day of what is right.

“Mai. Mai, you’ve lost yourself again.”

Khai jolted. But it wasn’t the wrong name that snapped him out of healing; it was the stirring in the patient’s inner flame, a pulse of consciousness that signalled awake.

Khai withdrew his hands and exhaled, warming the air in the room. He staggered back a little, and took a seat in the chair his aunt pulled over.

“Mai!” his aunt scolded. “If you lose yourself, if you give all your flame, you may die!”

Khai reached out for sunlight, but there was none; the sun had gone down. He grimaced. “Sorry, auntie. I got carried away.”

His aunt gave an exasperated sigh. “Again. Let me—”

Khai tugged his hand away from her grip. “Some hot tea will be enough,” he said. “You should save your strength for more patients.”

“Interesting,” Hong hummed, her hands passing over the patient. “How do you feel?”

“Sleepy,” the man murmured.

Hong nodded. “Then go back to sleep. A natural rest will strengthen the body.” She turned to Khai, ushered them out of the room. “How did you do it?”

With half an eye on his aunt, Khai answered, “By matching with our healthy cells. The patient—his body didn’t easily remember, but we do”

“It wasn’t that drastic,” Tien shook her head.

Khai nodded, looking down. There was so much more he could say, but...it felt too much like bragging. He didn’t want to overshadow his aunt this way, not in front of an outsider.

“But you did well,” Tien added.

“Indeed, it was impressive work, Mai,” Hong smiled. “You have taught a good Healer, Tien.” She winked at Khai. “Let’s get that tea.”

Khai returned a weak smile. “Thank you.”

*

“Mai hasn’t been seen in the lower districts lately,” Shima reported. “Han has also not been out at the tea shop either.”

Quy gave a nod of acknowledgement, and Shima left his study. Unfortunately, Quy needed to do something about Han. Han had drawn away, speaking to Quy less and less, and certainly not confiding in Quy about anything of importance.

And most gratingly, Han was the most unaffected by the draw of Quy’s power, and did not even pretend to be drawn. Someone intelligent would realise the benefits he would gain in Quy’s favour.

No, Han’s magic shielded itself from Quy’s fire with the echoes of Mai’s flame.

Once Han establishes his roots, it is hard to lift them, Quy thought with a prickle of irritation. If Quy himself had just been there from the beginning—

Quy rolled his eyes internally. Why was he fighting over Han’s loyalty? He was hardly the best mage.

“Quy, a missive has arrived for you,” Shima said. He placed down the flat sheets of paper, and retreated.

Quy caught the insignia of his father immediately.

“It was delivered by one of Lord Quyen’s messengers.”

“I see.” Quy passed a hand over the papers, Under the heat of his magic, words appeared on the page.

Dear Quy, son of mine,

It is pleasing to hear that you have triumphed over the first and second levels of student mages at Baashi University. You and your brother now hold Baashi University in our sway.

Unwritten was that Quy was not allowed to challenge his brother for the top position over the third years.

Word of your skill has reached the ears of our Emperor. Your brother may have skill in manipulating lava. You can make it.

Hatred towards Mai flared in Quy’s gut. Lava manipulation had gotten his father’s attention. Lava that Mai made. Lava that Quy couldn’t.

I shall be passing Taesu with a Royal Retinue in a weeks time from the delivery of this letter. You are invited to spend the day with us. We look forward to your display.

Quy’s fingers felt like ice. Quickly, he scanned the rest of the letter, but there was nothing else; the second sheet contained procedures for where Quy should go to meet his father and the prince in their visit to Taesu.

Written in was Quy’s display.

Quy clenched his fist, fire burning lightning-hot at the center of his palm.

A girl. A girl who pranced around pretending to be a man had gotten his father’s attention. She was meant to be his body double, a pawn. She was never meant to surpass him.

Quy stopped, and chided himself. If Mai could learn it, so could he. Melting rock to liquid—that should be easy. The only reason Quy had never done so was—was because he never thought it worthy of his time.

*