CH516 · Rewrite
☕ Support

Chapter 516: The Music of Recovery

Soraya’s task was to coat the cut copper wire in a hard anti-corrosion layer—preparation for the City of Neverwinter’s Three Supplies Project. It was easier work than the inner tire: the thickness didn’t need to be as precise.

She pulled the color card and reshaped the Magic Pen into a round tube. One pass from top to bottom, and the pigment solidified on the metal surface. She had learned the technique from Anna—restructuring the Magic Pen’s form to make more efficient use of magical power.

But the gap between them was vast, and Soraya knew it. She had witnessed Anna’s Blackfire cutting through metal ingots, and cutting was the wrong word for what she was watching. It looked like a performance: three distinct flames in three distinct forms, approaching from different angles, producing parts of identical dimensions—or assembling complete machines in one continuous motion. The Blackfire’s different lengths each carried different properties; that was easy enough to observe. Controlling all of them simultaneously, keeping their distinct magical characteristics stable while directing them together—that was something else entirely. For that, magic power had to be as responsive as a limb. More responsive, maybe.

“Is it… a vine?” Lucia asked, leaning close to study the color laid down by the Magic Pen.

“Exactly—ten-year-old grapevine.” Soraya kept her hand steady. “Hard, resistant to breaking, very close to what His Highness specified.”

“Ten years old—is that detail actually necessary?”

“Of course.” She couldn’t help smiling. “Young vines are softer, less resistant to corrosion and heat. Age isn’t the only variable, either—the same material behaves differently wet than dry. Wood, paper, cloth—all of them. That’s why I need color cards to track it.”

Lucia’s eyes went wide. “If that’s true, you’ll eventually have more color cards than we have metal formulas!”

“Not necessarily.” Soraya considered. “Elementary Chemistry shows that a material can change its properties dramatically with subtle changes in composition. But for wood, I’ve found the color card doesn’t shift noticeably when the moisture content varies between ten and fifteen percent.”

“You’re recording the entire world with just a pen.” Lucia shook her head in genuine admiration. “That’s an enviable ability.”

Soraya smiled but said nothing. She was thinking of Anna again—Anna had the truly enviable ability. If the Magic Pen recorded the world, then the Blackfire created it. Most of the changes in this city could be traced back to Anna: the machines gathered at the courtyard’s edge, waiting to be connected to a steam engine so they could channel power that once only witches could produce. In a real sense, Anna’s creations let ordinary people reach toward a witch’s strength. The workers had become an extension of the Blackfire, mediated by iron and steam.

By midday, she’d coated five bundles of copper wire and was done. Her life had a consistent rhythm: different locations each day, partial coatings, a steady advancement through the project lists. Now that her speed had improved, only half her magical power was gone by noon.

When a witch exhausted her power entirely, she felt it: fatigue, and in the worst cases, fainting. So they usually held back thirty percent during daily work, reserving it for training—where they burned through the remainder deliberately, to push the limit further. Soraya had a few hours left. She could spend them gathering new color cards, hunting for materials she hadn’t catalogued yet.

Instead she went back and joined Mystery Moon and the others for Fight the Landlord.

This is absolutely not slacking. She told herself this firmly. It’s temporary entertainment.


Time moved differently inside a card game. The whole afternoon vanished between one hand and the next.

After dinner, Scroll made an announcement. “Tonight’s evening course is cancelled. We’re holding an ability test for Echo instead.”

“Hasn’t she already been tested?” Lily frowned. “Why again?”

“This is wonderful!” Mystery Moon said, reaching over to cover Lily’s mouth. “I’ve never gotten to observe an ability test before!”

Lily pulled the hand away and muttered under her breath. “The point is they cancelled class. Aren’t you happy about that, at least…”

“Teacher Scroll, what should we do?” Ring asked—the only non-witch in the hall, sitting very straight.

“You just need to focus and listen,” Scroll said warmly.

“I don’t imagine everyone needs to attend.” Agatha rose. “If not, I’ll return to my room.”

“That’s not possible.” Scroll shook her head. “You’re one of the reasons for the test.”

“Me?” Agatha’s expression sharpened.

All the witches looked at her.

“Yes. You’ve been overextending yourself—consuming your full magical power every day. Your body won’t sustain that pace.”

“In Taquila, senior witches did the same.” Agatha said it without heat. “You’re aware of the Battle of Divine Will’s nature—it doesn’t stop until one side collapses. The Union was willing to sacrifice every one of its members if that sacrifice could find the path to victory.”

“But His Highness has said: forcing yourself beyond recovery reduces efficiency. Rest is necessary—for study, for work, for everything.” Scroll kept her voice soft. “I’ve told him about your situation. This test is an attempt at a solution.”

“Testing what?”

“Echo’s recovery ability.”

That stopped the room. Soraya glanced at Echo—quiet, unremarkable Echo, whose power was mimicry of sound. Can she heal people, like Nana? The idea seemed impossible. Echo’s ability had always been considered nearly useless; it was why Cara had once looked at her with such contempt.

Scroll paused before answering. “I don’t know the exact mechanism. It’s His Highness’s hypothesis.” She looked toward the door. “Are we ready? Let’s begin.”

Echo walked to the hall and ascended to the podium. She was visibly nervous. Every breath in the room held.

Then the music began.

It came softly—a clear, living sound, like spring water moving over smooth stone. Echo sang in her own voice, not mimicking anything: a single melodious song, unhurried, winding through the air between them.

The stone castle dissolved around Soraya. She felt warm water rising over her—not water exactly, but something like it: a white mist, an enveloping warmth, the cool kiss of a breeze on her face while something soft and bright rose above her. Stars. She couldn’t say why she was certain, but she was certain. She hummed without realizing it, her whole body loosening like a knot worked free from rope.

When the song ended, she didn’t open her eyes immediately.

Recovery. She understood without needing it explained. Her magical power hadn’t changed—not an increment more than before. But the weight of the day had lifted. Her limbs felt clean. Her mind had gone quiet and sharp at the same time, ready again.

Discussion

Suggest a change