Amelia Thornheart

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Refinement

After Amelia left Lunaria’s observatory, she dropped off the book about the Formless in her room before hunting down Serena for some aura training. Given Katalin’s morning session and the events that had transpired, most normal people would baulk at the idea of doing more. However, Amelia’s magic made her an exception to the norm. Even with her body that was supernaturally more resilient due to her game stats, she was sure she would have fallen asleep if it weren't for her healing abilities; she needed a dash of it to repair her wound and recover from her exhaustion.

Aseco’s magic was miraculous, but it had its downsides. It prevented her muscles from fully benefitting from the intense training they’d been subjected to. The divine healing simply healed away the damage to the muscles instead of letting her body naturally strengthen the tissue through its normal processes. 

Finding Serena was easy; even if Amelia didn’t have her flow of aether that powered Serena’s wards to guide her, she only needed to take a moment to open her senses and Serena’s familiar aether signature was unmistakable. However, as Amelia strolled through the corridors this time, focusing intently on presenting herself as a refined lord-prospect and dignified assistant instructor, her mind wandered, and she forgot to pay attention to where she was going.

Despite no longer consciously tracking down Serena’s signature nor following the aether trail, Amelia suddenly found herself before the demon. Was it luck, or was their connection so deep Amelia was unconsciously tracking her girlfriend?

That didn’t make her a stalker, did it? It’s not stalking if you do it accidentally, right?

Serena stood in the academy’s main throughway, flanked by the rows of cabinets containing all manner of weapons, armour and other oddities laid gently on black cloth - a constant reminder to the students travelling between classes of the great warriors of the past.

Notably, there was no mage-related equipment on display. The magic tower possessed a few cabinets with examples of specific crystal cuts or old tomes documenting the history of formations, but nothing in the main building. From what Amelia could tell, the martial part of the academy revered their history with greater zeal than their counterparts.

“Hello, Instructor Halen,” Amelia said cheerfully, coming up and standing next to Serena. Her girlfriend was looking at the names of student Speakers etched in brass. “Did you…” Serena was focused intently on the names. “...Want to practice our auras?” Amelia finished.

“Mmm,” Serena mumbled.

“Or, do you want to stare at a list of names all day? Can’t you think of something else you’d rather look at?” Amelia intoned, feeling her lips curl into a smile. She couldn’t flirt as boldly as she wished, especially with the chance of students and staff witnessing them, but some playful teasing seemed acceptable, didn't it? Amelia glanced around. How would Serena respond if Amelia gave her a swift smack on the behind when no one was observing?

No, she shouldn’t do that! It would be dreadful!

If she did, Serena would make that adorable tutting sound and then try to stab Amelia affectionately, wouldn’t she? 

Maybe? Probably. 

Definitely.

Must do it in the future, Amelia made a mental note. Making Serena flustered was Amelia’s addiction. After all, it wasn’t healthy for her big-softy girlfriend to constantly pretend to be a strict naval officer, was it? Years of war had caused Serena to put up all kinds of barriers, and Amelia was determined to break them all down!

“Apologies, Assistant Instructor Thornheart,” Serena replied, giving Amelia the side-eye. “Just… memories,” she continued, returning to the list of names. “When I was a student, I desperately wanted to be on this list. I was so determined. My yellow wasn’t quite there, and Narean still eluded me. It wasn’t until I spent a year as a squad commander that I managed to Speak for the first time.”

“Do you think it helps?” Amelia asked. “To be in real combat?”

Serena nodded. “For me, it did. For others, it can hinder development. It varies by the individual and the will of the god with whom they are communing.” Serena’s brow furrowed slightly. “Gods like Bayle place great importance on combat, while Narean is more flexible. I first realised I was ready after…” Serena hesitated, looking around. “Well, it’s not a story to be spoken of in public. Ask me another time.”

“Mmm!” Amelia agreed. “Did you want to train aura?”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

Serena guided her to one of the instructor-only training rooms. Inside, Ryosuke and Nathaniel were training, and judging by how damp their uniforms were with sweat, they had been doing so for a long time. The pair nodded in greeting but otherwise continued to concentrate on their own training. The Asamaywa Academy had the best instructors, and those instructors found time in their busy schedules to ensure their skills did not lapse.

“What’s the plan?” Amelia asked, as she was led to one of the corners.

“Even though you achieved red through combat, aura is refined through meditation,” Serena explained, gesturing for Amelia to sit down. “Much like how we repeat strikes thousands of times, whether individually or through the formalised katas, so that we can rely on them in a fight, we also train our aura through meditation, so that a base level of efficiency can be relied upon.

“There are more active ways, of course: the aura-stepping exercise we did this morning, or the flaring practice during the warm-up. Don’t be mistaken,” Serena sat opposite Amelia, raising a finger. “Meditation is the foundation - the sword and gun of a warrior’s abilities.”

 “Wouldn’t an actual sword and an actual gun be the sword and gun of a warrior’s abilities?” Amelia asked innocently, tilting her head to the side. It was a strange saying, and she still preferred her world's version of bread and butter. For some reason, Serena couldn’t wrap her head around it.

 “Shush,” Serena said, rolling her eyes and touching her lips. “Just listen.”

 “Okay!”

“Try to enter red again. It’s much easier to form an aura the second time. If possible, try to restrict how much aether you convect. It’ll be distracting if you start glowing like the red moon again.” Serena’s mouth curled into a smile. “Now, close your eyes and begin. Spend a few minutes slowing your breathing, as we did in Kenhoro. When you’re ready, give it a go.”

“Alright!”

Amelia closed her eyes, trying to quench her distracting excitement. With a few deep breaths, she began the breathing exercise. It was challenging at first; the more she tried to soothe her thoughts, the more her mind sought external stimuli. From the sound of Serena’s breathing to Ryosuke’s and Nathaniel’s grunts as they swung their swords, Amelia had to exert considerable effort to block them all from her thoughts.

In time, she found some semblance of inner stability. Satisfied, Amelia began to convect the aether around the body. The convecting of a warrior's aether shared similarities but also differed from a mage’s cycling. While the sensation once felt unnatural, now there was an element of familiarity. She embraced the sensation, concentrating on achieving a smooth and unified aether flow.

Then, without warning, Amelia felt an exhilarating rush as her aether suddenly locked in and for the second time, a red aura blossomed throughout her body.

Power! Strength!

Amelia’s tendons felt as if they’d become corded steel. Her skin was as impenetrable as thick ironwood bark. Her muscles became mighty lift engines, capable of lifting and throwing huge weights. She knew instinctively that she could sprint for hours, even without her healing abilities. This was aura!

It was different from her usual magic. Wards manifested as a thin layer, an artificial shield safeguarding the fragile body within. Even her strength-enhancing spells lacked the feeling of completeness that aura provided. Aura felt natural, as if it were an inherent extension of her body manifesting within her. It was hers.

“Well done,” came Serena’s voice. “But tone it down a bit; you’re brightening the whole room.”

Amelia blinked her eyes open to a crimson-hued room. Although it was better than earlier that morning, it remained an embarrassing distraction for anyone else. Her focus started to slip, causing her aura to tremble. Sensing its impending collapse, she channelled more aether to stabilise it, deepening the room’s red shade. Oops! Ryosuke and Nathaniel paused their training, silently observing her with expressions of awe. 

She turned her attention inwards, lessening the quantity of aether feeding her aura. She succeeded, diminishing the aura’s radius to just a few feet. However, with such a minimal amount of her reserves sustaining, her aura became unstable again. It flickered, and internally, it felt less evenly distributed than before.

“Don’t let it collapse,” Serena warned. “Close your eyes and focus. Your aether control is excellent, but you still need to get used to the warrior’s way. A musician might be able to skillfully play a tune quietly on one instrument but struggle on another. You must refine it.”

“O-okay!” 

With the analogy in mind, Amelia focused on stabilising her aura while keeping the total amount of aether fuelling it as low as possible. It was tricker than she thought; with the convecting aether so minimal, her cycling aether started to interfere. The aether sustaining her always-active wards greatly complicated the task. The task would probably be impossible if she didn’t have such instinctive control of aether.

Although it was challenging, she gradually made progress. It felt akin to flexing a new muscle or learning a new sword technique. Initially, she felt overwhelmed by the numerous adjustments she needed to make to keep the two types of aether flows from interfering with each other. As her muscle memory - or rather - her aether memory improved, Amelia could focus on fine-tuning the more troublesome aspects while the core flow grey increasingly stable.

She engrossed herself in practice, focusing entirely on refining her aura while minimising her aether usage to sustain the convection aether flow. With each correction, the remaining issues became more subtle and therefore more difficult to iron out. It was an addictive process, like putting a puzzle together. First, you get the broad shape right; then, you tackle it bit by bit. She understood now why some warriors became obsessed with training!

When she felt ready, she opened her eyes and was surprised to find an audience. Alongside Serena, she was being observed not just by Ryosuke and Nathaniel, who had both changed into clean clothes, but also by Joey, Sarafina and several other instructors whose names Amelia didn’t know.

“I didn’t realise I had an audience,” Amelia said, pleased to see her aura remained steady even as she talked.

“You were in a deep state of flow,” Serena replied. “Word spread about the ‘human mage refining an incredible aura’. It’s been about three hours.”

“Three hours!?” Amelia exclaimed. “It felt like… like only ten minutes!” She shook her head in disbelief. How could she be so wrapped up in her own activities that she lost track of so many people entering the room over such a long time? “Isn’t it risky to become so… absorbed in the flow?”

“Of course,” Serena said. “This is why many warriors train in secret, and if they do train with others, they ensure they have some guards…” She waved a hand over to the group of instructors, “...Protecting you. Not that you need protecting. Most warriors would struggle to crack your red, let alone your wards. Good job reducing the aether signature, though. It gets harder and harder to refine.”

Amelia glanced down at her body. She was softly glowing with red hues dancing across her skin, like light shining through clear water. Her aura spread out perhaps an inch. It wasn’t as subtle or refined as Serena’s red aura, but Amelia was more than satisfied with her progress. At the very least, she could use aura in training sessions and not be a terrible distraction!

“Maintaining the underlying convection under small amounts of aether flow is only the beginning,” Ryosuke explained. “You’ll need to practice increasing it now while keeping it visibly unchanged. One of the greatest strengths of a warrior is how much aether they can pour into their aura while keeping their opponent from knowing its true strength. Cloaking spells help, but aura is best disguised by refining it further, making the convection finer.” Ryosuke looked to his left and right. “You’re here for this semester, right?” Seeing Amelia nod, he continued, “I think I can speak for everyone here, Assistant Instructor Thornheart, that we greatly anticipate what state your aura will be in at the end.”

“This talented human might reach orange by then…” Sarafina added, throwing Amelia an appraising look. The rest of the instructors murmured their agreement before adding their own comments and gossip. Some of the younger instructor’s eyes possessed elements of envy, but thankfully, none of them reached the level of hostility.

“Where’s Instructor Driss?” Amelia asked. What would Katalin say when she saw how refined Amelia’s aura had already become? Would she be impressed? When Amelia reacted to the demon’s taunts, exploding into red aura for the first time and slicing off her arm, Katalin responded as if the events weren’t anything unusual. Whatever standards the demon operated at, Amelia was eager to see if she could meet them.

“I haven’t seen her since the morning session,” Ryosuke added. “She often trains alone in a private room. Sometimes, she vanishes completely for a few days. As a Highlord, I imagine she has a whole host of obligations that demand her time.”

“And the Grandmaster?” Amelia asked. “Has he, uh, spoken to everyone else as well?”

“He did,” Ryosuke responded awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head while glancing at the other instructors. “About the same stuff as you, I imagine,” he finished with a small shrug.

Amelia nodded, saying no more. Not everyone in the room was in attendance for Katalin’s morning session, and the grandmaster had clearly dragged every witness to the event and given them an equally strong warning not to let the information get out.

She cringed slightly as his words bubbled into her mind once again; a warning and plead not to cause any more chaos during her tenure here. Honestly, what kind of woman did he think she was! 

“Right, enough gawking,” Serena stepped in, waving a hand towards the group. She turned to Amelia and asked, “Did you want to keep going, or end it for today? It’s better to take breaks; let the mind digest the training while you sleep.”

“Mmm!” Amelia sprang to her feet. “I’m done for today, I think. Thank you, Instructor Halen. I might have some questions for you later…” Amelia finished with a deep bow. When she straightened up, there was the faintest tinge of redness on Serena’s cheeks.

“Just call me Serena when no students are around.” Serena breathed out slowly, her eyes not quite meeting Amelia’s. “We’ve known each other long enough. Come find me in the evening, then.”

Adorable!

“Mmm, sure!” 

With that, Amelia thanked the other instructors for their comments and exited the training hall. Neither her nor Serena had any illusions about what kind of ‘evening questions’ they’d have for each other.

Seriously, her girlfriend was such a softy!

With Mel’s classes finished for the day, she planned to spend a quiet night in her quarters refining her aura. On the way back, she was interrupted by the appearance of a staff member carrying a small bag. By the sound it made when moved, it contained paper.

“You’re Assistant Instructor Thornheart’s assistant?”

“Yes,” Mel said.

“Well, take these then. They’ve all come for her in the last two days.” The demon thrust the bag towards Mel. With a feeling of puzzlement, she took the bag and looked inside to see it contained twenty or thirty letters. Judging by the fine paper and wax seals, many were from wealthy families.

“I’m not exactly sure why she’s so popular,” the staff member mumbled. “Perhaps everyone wants to invite the new human noble for a meal. Either way, my workload in the mailroom has doubled since she arrived. We’ve even had to put another guard at the front gate to turn people around.”

“I’ll let her know,” Mel said. Having been on the receiving end of Amelia’s healing spell, Mel had no illusion regarding why Amelia was receiving so many letters. Every family in the East with an ill family member and had heard the rumours would be trying to make contact. Did Amelia fully understand how much chaos the very idea of her was bringing to demon society?

With a small sigh, Mel returned to the upper floors of the magic tower. Instead of going straight to her quarters, she stopped before Amelia’s door. Before she could even knock, a cheerful “Come in!” sounded from inside. Mel opened the door, stepping in and closing the door behind her.

“Assistant, ahem-” Mel coughed quietly. “Amelia?”

“In here,” came the reply.

Mel followed the voice into the bedroom, where Amelia lay relaxed on the bed, reading a book. Even though Mel’s rooms were better than her shared accommodation in the Kenhoro Officer’s Academy, she still felt a little envious of Amelia’s double bed and finely carved furniture. Apparently, the magic tower spared no expense in setting up the infamous human healer.

Not that Mel disagreed with the favouritism. Amelia was a friendly human healer on a continent of demons without gods of healing. What did that make her? A demigod? Mel shook her head the moment the thought formed. There was only one figure that deserved that title, and she resided in the Cathedral of Bone thousands of klicks away. 

“What are you reading?” Mel asked, trying to turn her thoughts away from blasphemy.

“A book on the Formless,” Amelia replied. “Did you know that…” she intoned as she traced the page with a finger, “...That there’s a Formless called Osoric that goes around teaching blacksmiths how to make better weapons? He’s very active in Centralis, seen several times a year!”

“The name rings a bell,” Mel said. Growing up in Kenhoro she was taught the Formless were powerful Kami that would come after her if she didn’t eat everything on her plate or do her chores. Admittedly, she hadn’t given them much thought as an adult. She told Amelia as much and then passed her the bag of letters, saying, “These have all come for you.”

“Ooh! Letters!” Amelia excitedly opened the bag, pouring the contents onto the bed. Many of the letters were decorated with metallic thread, some even embossed with moon crystals. They were all written to “Lord-Prospect Amelia Thornheart.” Amelia waved Mel to sit on the bed, which she did after some hesitation.

Such a comfy mattress, Mel thought.

She was about to ask if Amelia wanted her to fetch a letter opener, but the human seemed more than happy to use her hands to open them. Moments like this made Mel ponder the mystery of Amelia Thornheart. The woman spoke High Imperial with a refined accent as good as any other noblewoman, and her curtsying and general movements carried an inspiring gracefulness. Yet, her other actions were often unladylike: requesting Mel to call her by her first name after only knowing her briefly, asking someone who wasn’t a family member to sit on her bed, and eagerly using her hands to open important letters.

Amelia’s movements and language were at a standard that only noblewomen achieved through training since birth. Who would raise her in such a way but fail to instil the other components of nobility in her? With what little digging Mel had attempted, Amelia hadn’t given much up. The woman would just shrug and say her past was complicated. She didn’t want to risk offending her, so she’d given up on prodding at Amelia’s background. 

Besides, she was sure she would find out someday. All secrets claw their way to the top eventually.

“Ah,” Amelia mumbled, her face falling. “Another one of these…” She sighed, placing the letter to one side before opening another. Upon reading it, Amelia put it in the same pile with a tense expression.

“What is it?” Mel asked.

“Sad stories,” Amelia answered, glancing at the opened letters. “Sons with missing limbs. Daughters with incurable illness. Offering me large amounts of money to travel to heal their family members or even willing to bring the patient to me. At least some letters are more positive, like this one!” Amelia held up a later sewed with gold thread. “An invitation to a fancy meal and dance in Hokanai! I won’t be able to go, but it's nice to be invited!”

“These days, I imagine you’re at the forefront of many dinnertime conversations,” Mel pointed out. She didn’t want to add that the invitations to highborn events were likely just the more tactile approaches to petition Amelia for her healing services. “Do you plan to accept any of them?” she asked, gesturing to the growing pile of requests. Mel was surprised to see Amelia shake her head and asked why.

“Lords, Highlords, and Greatlords have told me that if I start healing everyone, it’s going to cause chaos and political conflict between the Terra Firmas, and that could spiral out of control,” Amelia explained with a pained expression. “I don’t like it, but it does make sense. If I favour healing the warriors and mages of a particular Greatlord or some other group, I could upset any power balances.” Amelia threw her hands up. “It’s so frustrating! You would think having power and my abilities meant you could do anything you wanted, but I’m actually under more restraints than someone with no abilities! Ah…” Her shoulders slumped. “Maybe I’ll run away and farm somewhere in peace…”

Mel giggled. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just I can’t imagine someone like you… farming. But I suppose I understand what you mean. I’ve heard the movements of the Greatlords and other Second-Word Speakers are heavily restricted by the Overlords due to them being strategic weapons. Imagine how much worse it would be if you could Speak a Second-Word!”

Students here and back in Kenhoro frequently discussed the topic of Second-Word Speakers. It was well known that the Greatlords, who had reached the near-pinnacle of divine favour by communing at least one Second-Word, were second in power only to their overlords and the demigod above even them. But what about the hidden Speakers? The ones that were fully dedicated to their overlord’s will, living quiet lives in strategic locations, ready to act at a moment's notice? According to her fellow students, the top contenders of people in the academy who were secretly Second-Word Speakers were the Head of the Department of Leadership and Ethics, Ryosuke Yamamoto, and the famous Northern swordmaster, Katalin of Driss.

Of course, Amelia had amazing abilities and was freakishly strong in her own right, but how would she react if she went against a Second-Word Speaker with their mighty embodiments of their communed god? 

“Yeah. Imagine…” Amelia huffed. “Help me organise these, will you? Can you write down a list of everyone asking for my help? Even if I can’t help them right now, I’ll remember it for later.” Amelia reached over, pulling a notebook and pen from the bedside table.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Mel asked.

“Okay?”

“For me to know… that information.” It felt wrong for someone like Mel to have access to such personal letters. Many noble families didn’t speak publicly about family members who were struck with ailments. Instead, the families kept up the act of them ‘travelling’ or ‘spending time in seclusion’ until they recovered. Often, you wouldn’t know they had been ill until the family announced the death and subsequent period of mourning.

“Don’t worry about it,” Amelia waved a hand dismissively. “Just don’t tell anyone else, alright? Oh, if any letters are from House Halen then put them to the side. Also…” Amelia lifted one of the letters up, tapping the wax seal. “If you see any seals that look like they would suit me, let me know. I’m technically the Head of House Thornheart, and I need to create my own insignia. If you have any ideas, let me know!”

One huge question mark would be appropriate, Mel thought.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Mel said.

The two set about tabulating and organising the letters. As time passed, Mel found herself telling Amelia about her life. Even though Amelia was human, she was surprisingly easy to talk to. With nobility, you always had to watch your conduct, for they could fine you on a whim. Speakers like Amelia even possessed the right to detain suspected criminals. Such concern didn’t exist with Amelia, and Mel felt comfortable talking about her thoughts.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“I’ve been thinking recently; I want to become more than just an Officer,” Mel explained as she scribbled on the paper. “Above all else, I want to become exceptional with the sword, as good as Captain Halen or Highlord Driss. To that end, I was thinking I would spend a few years as a squad commander, then return to the academy as an Assistant Instructor. Then, if I can focus on communing a Word and as a result, be tenured as a full Instructor!”

“Well, I haven’t forgotten my promise. I’ll put in a good word for you!” Amelia said, giving Mel a double thumbs-up that made her giggle. The grandfather clock chimed, and Amelia sat up quickly. “Oops! I’m late to a, uh, appointment. Let’s finish up for today!”

“Okay.” Mel nodded. “Did you want me to bring you anything to eat later?”

“No, thank you,” Amelia began brushing her hair. “I won’t be back tonight, so don’t stay up.”

“You won’t be back?” Mel tilted her head in confusion. “Where are you going?”

“N-nowhere!” Amelia spluttered. “I mean, I’m going to do some training, and if it gets too late, I’ll just stay in the main building. Just don’t…” She waved her hairbrush in Mel’s direction. “...Don’t wait for me or anything. Focus on your own training!”

Could she be meeting a man? Mel thought. She’d only ever heard tales of human-demon relationships. The human church strongly forbade them since all offspring from such a paring were always full-blooded demons, regardless of the race of the mother. No one could say that Amelia wasn’t beautiful, at least for a human. Mel found it a bit jarring to see a face without some horns attached. The tops of human heads always seemed weirdly flat and open in comparison. Still, Mel could understand why some demons would find Amelia pleasing to look at.

Maybe she’ll tell me who it is, eventually…

Amelia finished up and headed out, leaving Mel to tidy the room. She arranged the letters on the desk, leaving the unopened ones for Amelia’s return tomorrow. She made the bed and quickly brushed down any surfaces that looked dusty. She opened the top window a fraction to air the room and ensured the remaining windows were locked.

Hmm?

Down on the grounds, Mel thought she saw someone in the shadow of a large tree, obscured by its trunk. It looked like they were watching her for a moment, but when she blinked, the figure was gone. Some staff members were walking a path behind the tree, and they gave no indication that someone was hiding from Mel’s sight. Was it a trick of the light?

Putting it out of her mind, Mel retired to her own quarters for the night. Inspired by the enthusiastic human who seemed to have boundless energy, Mel relaxed into a meditation position and began refining her aura. Her red was now heavily hued with orange, and she felt like she would break through to the next level of aura any week now.

Even if Amelia managed to reach red eventually, Mel would surely be able to impress her with an orange aura! The next time they duelled, Mel would show Amelia how far she had to go!

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