*

“And if they strike me on sight?” Quy muttered.

“If you appear at Khai’s apartment, he would do more than that,” Shima said reasonably.

Quy took a deep breath. “I know.”

He was approaching Khai when he was in company of two earth mages for a reason. To show that he was not here to fight.

Quy took another breath, and calmed his fire. The rougher-than-usual clothing chafed him. But for good cause.

He stepped out onto the main street. “Good afternoon, Healer Mage Khai,” he called out. Shima followed a step after.

Khai was already turning. His hands spread out.

Quy stopped.

“...Good afternoon, Mage Quy, Swordsman Shima.”

Quy took a deep breath, and forced his flames lower. He inclined his head. “I came requesting your assistance, Mage Khai.”

Khai slowly walked towards him. “What of it?” His eyes scanned over Quy’s body. “...I’m glad you’re healed.”

Quy sucked in a breath at Khai’s honest tone. “I dueled you because...I needed your help.”

Khai raised his eyebrows. “Fighting practice?”

Quy’s eyes dipped down.

No! If I ask him, I need to do so with conviction. Quy straightened and looked Khai straight in the eye. “I need to learn how to create lava and manipulate it. And you are the only one I know who can do so.”

“There are spells. If you search Baashi’s library—” Khai started, frowning a little.

“And what long-worded spells do you use?” Quy said sharply.

Unexpectedly, a faint smile came across Khai’s face. “It is an adapted healing technique.”

Han strode up to Khai’s side. “This is the first I’ve heard of this,” he said, levelling a surprisingly steady gaze at Quy, instead of quaking in his boots. “Why?”

Under the protection of Khai’s fire.

“My reasons are not to be spoken in such a public forum,” Quy said, flashing a dark look at Han, just to see him quail, a little.

Heh. I still have it.

Khai stepped closer and closer towards Quy until they stood face to face. Looking at Khai this close made Quy’s brain hurt, like seeing a mirror un-reversed image of himself.

Khai’s voice was quiet like embers. “Is this about the disruption in your fire? I sensed it, when we fought. There is something troubling you.”

Through years of practice, Quy didn’t flinch. Through seeing Shima in the corner of his eye, Quy didn’t immediately deny Khai’s accusation.

Not accusation. Think of him...as a too-aware healer.

“Will you help me?” he asked instead.

“Yes. Will you tell me why?”

Quy gave him a dry look. “It is due to something you did at Baashi. My father heard of your ability to create lava where there was none. He wishes for a demonstration...this Saturday.”

“You didn’t choose your father. Just as I didn’t choose my aunt,” Khai said.

Quy remained silent.

“Saturday...that’s hardly enough time. But then, you are strong. Magical reserves will not be a problem.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “There is healing that I need to catch up on.” Gold eyes flickered to him. “It would be good for you to watch how the technique works before it’s adapted to things not alive.”

At that, Quy inclined his head, acceding. “Very well.”

*

Quy struggled not to speak out.

“In most healing, the body knows what to do, and it knows what it was before the injury, the sickness,” Khai was saying as his hands moved magic through the patient. “A Healer Mage reminds the body of what it once was, nudging it to return to a healthy state faster.”

Khai’s magic seemed to move through the patient in pulses, like that of the heartbeat.

Khai shot Quy a look. “Go outside, take some fresh air.”

Quy smoothly rose to his feet and did just that. A few minutes later, Khai emerged, and silently, the two of them headed to an abandoned rocky square.

“Calling lava is the same,” Khai said, moving in stance. “The earth here was once, long ago, inside the earth. The earth here knows lava, knows the magma from which it came. To create lava, you remind the earth of what it once was...and you help it along by applying sufficient heat to make it so.”

Quy followed Khai’s form, reaching out with his magic.

“Go deep,” Khai said quietly. “Go down to the magma. If you know what that feels like, it is easier to remind the earth on the surface.”

“Why don’t you just call that magma up?” Quy said.

Khai blinked. “Time, for one,” he said, frowning. “Magma lives far below the surface. In a combat situation, there is not time for the movement of liquid fire earth from so far away.”

“Then, have it near the surface and ready.”

“For an eruption? For an earthquake? You’d have to constantly maintain it, or only have it on hand for scheduled duels.”

Quy’s lips tightened, and he bowed his head, conceding. He calmed down his magic and tried again, feeling the fire-that-is-magma, and then comparing it with the sense of the dead rocks around him.

But the most he could feel of the rocks was the warmth from the sun, not some aeons-old once-was-lava.

Annoyed, Quy slashed down fire. What little plants burnt to cinders.

“We have hardly started,” Khai said.

“If these rocks were ever once lava, well, they don’t remember it!” Quy said sharply. He shot out a stream of flame at a rock, ramping up the heat. “Why won’t it just melt?”

“I always form the lava underground first,” Khai said. With a swept of his hands, Quy’s fire dissipated, leaving a solid cherry-red-glowing rock. “The lava needs a measure of pressure to form. However...”

“What?” he snapped. A beat later, Quy remembered that Khai was here to help him. But he wouldn’t apologise.

“In most healing, the body remembers.”

Quy shifted his stance a little away. “So you said...”

Khai’s eyes glinted, a grin at the corner of his mouth. “And what if it doesn’t remember? In that case, we enforce a pattern of health that we know. Quy, study thoroughly how the lava beneath the earth moves. How the fire in that rock moves. And then, use your magic and your will to impose that pattern upon the earth in the sunlight. Perhaps you are more suited to a more direct fight.”

Quy snorted. “Of course. I’m a combat mage.” He found a nice flat surface and sat down. And cast his magic down into the ground.

*

Having another fire mage around was pleasant, Khai had to admit, as he kept one eye on Quy. Their magic hummed with the same sparking, the same flicker of safe-and-dangerous.

Personally, Khai was feeling pretty pleased with himself for coming up with a second method to create lava, though he would have to test it personally to see which one was faster, and which was suited to different types of earth.

Quy’s eyes opened. “I’m ready.”

Khai gave a small smile. “Then let’s begin.”

*

Quy stood stiffly in ceremonial clothing. Shima was a few paces backed, dressed in more muted clothing.

Saturday, and Lord Quyen, had come too quickly, but Quy had trained hard with Khai for the last few days, first with lava, and then with the moves of the presentation itself. He knew he could do it.

He kept his breath even as he greeted Lord Quyen, and the Prince that his father was accompanying.

Paradoxically, he felt better when his display begun, as he moved through the forms, of bladed weapons of fire, to the creation of lava, to the manipulation of lava as he slashed his swords.

He did know what he was doing. Khai had helped him. And Quy knew that he himself was a more than capable fire mage.

And with an exhale, Quy let his weapons fade in sparks, and the earth return as though it was never lava in the first place.

Polite clapping came from around him. The prince beckoned from his special seating area, and so Quy stepped forward.

“Truly wondrous,” the prince said. “I would hope to see you in the Capital City in the near future. Perhaps in an internship, as your brother.”

Quy bowed. “Thank you, your highness.”

“A good display, my son,” Lord Quyen said, expression barely changing.

Despite that, a happiness spread across Quy’s chest. He bowed again. “Thank you, Father.”

With that, Quy headed off the main stage, to a private area. He let out his breath in a rush. He composed his face again when he heard footsteps.

“Quy,” Shima said. “That was very good. You are one of the are fire mages who handles fire directly. And of them, the only who can call lava in your manoeuvres. You have put me out of a job,” he added, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Quy’s mouth dropped open. Oh. The happiness and satisfaction from Shima’s words, from Shima’s direct gaze, looking at him, Quy, not at second-son-of-mine the way Lord Quyen had looked.

“Thank you.” Deep breath. “I should tell Khai...and thank him for his help once again.”

And Shima smiled.