"Hey, can I learn thaumaturgy?" Tristessa asked, raising her voice to overcome the constant murmur and shouts around her.

"No."

"You reject me that easily?!"

She was following Severus through the stalls of the bazaar located in the heart of Entrana's commercial district, crowded with people from all walks of life. There was so much to see, and the blood elf walked so quickly, pushing people out of the way with his cane. That earned him brief, hostile glances, and forced Tristessa to walk even faster.

Exotic rugs, street foods, steel weapons, implements for preserving food, cooking, washing clothes, and drying using power crystals, among many other things. Some transactions might be successful, others not, but a constant flow of soul-jewels was conserved, and therefore, a vibrant economy.

"You don't want to teach me because...?"

Severus slowed down so she could catch up and stood shoulder to shoulder with her.

"If you had told me from the start that you entered the city illegally, I would have thought it better," he whispered in her ear, his irritation evident in his words. "You can tell me later how the hell you managed to do it. Now pray that no soldier finds you suspicious. And keep your Discord out of it; we don't want you to be lynched in the middle of this place. And..."

Severus gave her a worried look.

"Bringing you along might have been a bad idea..."

"You're making fun of me! And I already told you I'm sorry! Besides, it's not my fault I have so much Discord in me," she complained, though she was unnerved by the glances of the merchants and customers who briefly interrupted their transactions when she walked by, surprised by the sudden, invasive atmosphere of Discord surrounding her. "Back to the topic of magic…"

"I'm not saying I won't or can't teach you thaumaturgy. I'm saying it'll be a waste of time since your soul has no aptitude for magic: it's like a desert, without a single drop of mana in sight," the blood elf explained. "If you wanted to summon a Firan glyph, the most you'd be able to achieve after years of practice would be a puff of smoke, or an Escant glyph to create just one ice cube for a spiritus beverage. Not to mention that your soul would surely shatter upon…"

"I get it, jeez…," she interrupted, just as they entered an area with a water fountain in the middle, like a roundabout, surrounded by the bazaar's most popular stalls. "Wow, even the fountain has a shield theme."

"The defense against darkness always high and firm, Tristessa."

They both stopped in front of a stall selling alchemical ingredients: dozens of flowers of different species, mushrooms, organs in glass jars, dried insects, and other items Tristessa couldn't identify.

"Give me ten blood orchids, ten ghost lotuses, two livers, and thirty handful of standard herbs," Severus asked the shop owner, a young woman wearing a pointed hat so high it almost touched the roof of her tent. While she collected the order, the elf addressed his companion. "Don't be discouraged by your inability to perform thaumaturgy. Unlike your magical power, your spiritual counterpart seems quite abundant."

"What does that mean?"

"It means your attunement to the divine is very good. You are close to the Gods, so it wouldn't be surprising if you possessed a Divinity. And if you don't have any… Well, I regret to say that you are unfortunate, because all that potential your dark soul possesses would be a waste."

Severus looked at her with pity, feeling sorry for the girl who had been placed in an awkward position.

"Actually, I own… Three Divinities," she revealed, smiling with a hint of pride. "A Mystic Tattooist offered me his services when I arrived in the city, and I learned quite a bit about the skills I possess."

Severus blinked several times, a confused grimace growing on his face.

"Sorry, I think I misheard; there's too much noise around. How many Divinities did you say?"

"T-three…?"

"THREE?!"

Severus' scream, thankfully, only startled Tristessa and the shopkeeper, who dropped a jar containing two livers. The rest of the crowd was too preoccupied with their business transactions, and shouting under the laws of supply and demand, to pay attention to a blood elf shrieking like a madman.

"Sorry, I'll pay you double!" Severus said quickly, lowering his head at the irate saleswoman. He handed her several soul-jewels and received the requested items in a wicker bag. He didn't wait another second before storming off in the direction of the fountain, followed by the girl. "When were you supposed to reveal that to me?! Do you really own three?"

Before Tristessa could reassure herself, Severus stopped, and she nearly ran into his back.

"Well, look who it is. Why are you in such a hurry, elf?"

Tristessa peeped sideways and saw that blocking their path around the fountain were three people dressed in academic thaumaturgy uniforms, the golden brooch representing their respective Academy fastening the top folds of their cloaks.

In this case, the Academy of Magnum Gravitas.

"Oh, it's her!" the raven-haired girl exclaimed, recognizing the person in the middle: it was the woman she had asked for directions near the Evil-Warding Pillar. "Hello, Urias!"

Stolen novel; please report.

This time, the thaumaturge was not wearing her hat, exposing her short blond hair and a small mole above her right eyebrow. Unlike her, her two companions not only wore large black hats, but also veils covering their faces that -Tristessa being particularly curious about- were possibly the very same kind that she had found in the clearing in the Sea of ​​Trees upon arriving in Nekrom.

"Yes, I assumed you would be with him. Tristessa, right? An interesting name."

Urias Janus greeted her courteously, bowing her head slightly, ger magic staff resting against her chest. Now that her hat was gone to shade her face, Tristessa could see that she had a natural tired look, with droopy, sleepy eyes. Deceptive, given her elegant and refined movements as she walked and greeted.

"Did you have any trouble finding Severus? A very elusive creature he is… Has he shown you his tricks with gravity or electricity thaumaturgy yet?" she asked, causing Tristessa's smile to slowly fade, sensing some animosity in those words.

The blood elf stood beside her, silent, but his gaze fixed on Urias. An emotionless, empty gaze, like that false curve of his lips that feigned joy. A grimace that fooled no one.

"No, wait, what was your grand entrance like, Severus? I remember you floating down from the third floor of the library, thinking you were doing something innovative. Tell me, how much did it take you to realize you looked like a buffoon? I never got a chance to ask, since the elders have already expelled you from the Academy by then."

Her two companions laughed, unlike Tristessa, who felt her face burn with anger.

"Hey! What's your problem?!" she shouted, outraged to hear this woman, who had been so kind to her, rant about a colleague like that.

Especially when it involved Severus. Her hero.

"Tristessa, no. Don't say anything else," the elf urged, finally breaking the silence.

There was no emotion in his voice. Nor in his blue eyes. Nor in the crimson glow of his hair, which a couple of minutes earlier had seemed to burn like fire, hand in hand with his diligence in helping Tristessa save their mutual friends.

"Hmm? My problem?" Urias repeated the girl's question, not intending to let it go. "I'll tell you what my problem is, Tristessa."

Around her, people continued to pass by, albeit with some caution, having detected a certain hostility among those present.

"Thaumaturgy is the mystical art of turning dreams and desires into reality. By saying its essential description out loud is enough to lift the spirits of scholars like us, because we know that nothing is impossible if you imagine it and have the will to make it happen."

As she explained, Urias used her cane to emit a beautiful, multicolored glow from the crystal, creating a small configuration of glyphs so complex that even Tristessa was left speechless. There were dozens of rings, interspersed with each other and rotating at different angles, respecting a spatial symmetry so they wouldn't clash with each other. Several passersby stopped to appreciate this beautiful spectacle, until the glyphs faded to generate a harmless, tiny star in front of Urias, shining faintly as if in its final cycle of life.

The star floated into her free hand, and she held it between her fingers, reveling in its magnificence.

"Who can boast of holding a star between their fingers? Only thaumaturgy can make such a dream come true. But Severus…"

Likewise, Urias used her catalyst to make the star disappear, canceling the magic and earning the applause of the unsuspecting civilians. Even Severus was applauding, having handed the shopping bag to a furious Tristessa.

"He, standing there next to you and clapping like an idiot, makes thaumaturgy a joke, with his basic demonstrations and unintellectual objectives and aims," she opined with a sneer of disdain and disgust. "One can only expect more from the worst thaumaturge in the city."

That was the final straw.

"Listen to me, bitch…!" Tristessa was so furious that her anger flowed easily. It was all too easy to lose her temper, and even the blood elf detected that.

"It seems we continue to differ on our vision of art, Urias!" Severus said quickly, interrupting Tristessa with the intention of keeping his colleague focused on him and pushing her back with his cane. "You are an excellent thaumaturge, but you still want to impose your ideas on others."

Shattering the good impression she had made on Tristessa hours before, Urias took a step forward, the vein in her temple marked by a personal hatred focused on the crimson-haired man. It was repulsion toward everything she rejected and that offended the art she practiced with passion, and it showed in her serious and coldly calculating expression.

"My vision is absolute, because that's what the essence of thaumaturgy dictates. You can keep doing your pathetic elemental magic; true thaumaturges like us conceive miracles far more complex and closer to the fulfillment of our dreams and desires. Like, for example… My desire that you bring your feet back to earth, Severus."

Before he or Tristessa or whoever could understand what she was referring to, the crystal of Urias's cane emitted a powerful but brief golden glow. No one anticipated the creation of a ring of glyphs of the same color at Severus's feet.

The elf's amused expression collapsed as the glyphs disappeared in an imperceptible burst. His fingers instantly lost strength, causing his magic catalyst to fall and bounce to Tristessa's feet, emitting a loud metallic sound with each blow.

"Severus?" Tristessa asked, deeply concerned to see him frozen, paralyzed on the spot, unable to react. "Severus!"

Urias nodded with satisfaction, proud of her genius, and was congratulated with applause by her henchmen.

"Consider it a lesson, Severus. Perhaps that's all the professors needed to make you shut your mouth." The thaumaturge smirked and gestured for her companions to follow her. As she retreated, she blew a kiss to both the shocked blood elf and the tense, gray-eyed girl. "Just a little stimulus, nothing more than that. See you later, Tristessa, and let this be the last time you shout insults in public."

"Fuck that! Come here and fix whatever you did!" she demanded, earning a sweet laugh from the woman. "Urias!"

Ignoring her, the three thaumaturges finished skirting the fountain and entered the bazaar through a parallel passageway. The witnesses of the altercation dispersed, mostly because they saw something was wrong with Severus and wanted nothing to do with it.

"What's wrong?! Talk to me!" Tristessa shouted, having already dropped everything she was holding and shaking him by the shoulders at the sight of him standing so still, his temples and forehead breaking out in sweat and the blue in his eyes shining. "Severus…!"

"Don't do that, girl!" the alchemist at the stall warned, too scared to even go over and offer help. "Look at his feet!"

She felt her soul leaving her body and instantly let go of him. Looking down, she saw something that made her squeal in horror.

Severus' shoes and feet were made of the same rocky material as the floor tiles.

Between torn cloth, flesh and bones were in a state of paradoxical division, turning to rock at the start of the ankle. Blood was starting to pool around him, seeping out and bubbling through dozens of fissures since there were no veins where to flow and return.

"SEVERUS!"

Tristessa's screamed upon that terrible miracle that Urias made as if it was nothing. The magic skill of someone against whom the blood elf, considered the worst thaumaturge in Entrana, couldn't even defend himself from.

A testament to the power of someone willing and able to make her wishes and dreams come true… Whatever the cost and pain of others.

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