CH754 · Rewrite
☕ Support

Chapter 754: The Master of Worms

“This is… an awakening?” Evelyn said.

“Most likely.” Lily nodded. The pain of the first awakening was far worse than any ordinary wound—the magic power gathering inside the body felt like a bite from within. Many witches would involuntarily release their power at that moment, which often exposed them. Two or three years ago, awakening openly in public had meant almost certain doom. “The pain from the first bite is far more painful than the gash on her head.”

Shortly afterward, the lightning faded—but not before igniting the floor and outer wall along its path, leaving a tangle of orange-red fire and rolling smoke.

The short-haired girl struggled upright, turned back toward her stunned companion, shouted something they couldn’t hear, and grabbed her hand to drag her out of the burning room.

Lily raised an eyebrow.

It was well established that the first bite was rarely fatal, but the feeling it produced was unlike anything a witch had experienced before. In the aftermath, she would be weak and sweaty, her body barely her own. For a teenage girl to control herself under those conditions, let alone turn back for a companion left behind—that was rare.

The fire triggered by the lightning was small enough not to spread quickly. By the time the far half of the classroom was ablaze, everyone had escaped the building.

Summer ended the flashback.

“Good—we have a new sister.” Lily let the corner of her mouth rise. Whatever the girl’s ability turned out to be, she would make a fine witch. Her bravery and her will alone said so. This one gave Lily a feeling that not every witch would be as tiresome as Mystery Moon.

She turned deliberately to glance at Mystery Moon.

Mystery Moon was standing perfectly still, staring at nothing, her expression unreadable.

What is wrong with that fool now?

“We should tell Sister Wendy immediately!” Amy said. “There’s a new witch in Neverwinter!”

“Agreed.” Evelyn nodded. “Let’s go to the castle.”

Wendy already knows, Lily thought, but didn’t say it. She shrugged. The castle was on her way back to her bedroom anyway.

“Mystery Moon?”

When they turned to go, they realized she hadn’t moved.

“Ah—yes. I’m coming.” She shook her head, fell into step beside them. But she was subdued now, nothing like the eager figure who had rushed into the bedroom an hour ago.

“Are you all right?” Evelyn reached over and touched Mystery Moon’s forehead.

“I’m fine,” Mystery Moon said under her breath.

Strange girl, Lily thought, and said nothing. She reached over and slipped a magic parent worm into Mystery Moon through the hand she was nearest to. The fool has no business catching a cold, but what if she does?

They rode the Magic Ark back to the Witch Building and reported to Wendy, who was, as expected, already angry.

“There was no need for any of you to go investigating.” Wendy knocked each witch’s forehead in turn with her knuckle. “Sylvie noticed the magic reaction from the castle and has already questioned the people at the school—she knows everything. You sneaked through a police cordon and into a potentially dangerous building.” She paused, her gaze sweeping across them. “You’ve been spending too much time with Lightning. Do you want to be confined to the classroom and take three practice tests?”

Every face in the room changed immediately. They shook their heads in rapid, unanimous denial.

“Ah—I just remembered.” Evelyn clapped her hands together. “I need to check the tavern’s stock before dinner.”

“I have a question to ask Isabella about.” Margie bowed deeply. “Excuse me.”

“Right behind you.” Vanilla followed before Wendy could respond.

Amy lingered a moment too long, failed to invent a reason, and was dragged out by Summer.

Lily watched them go, resigned. Do you really think you can escape punishment if Wendy intended to punish you? It isn’t even a hardship to spend an evening on three practice tests.

She nudged Mystery Moon forward until they both bowed in apology, then led her back to their bedroom.

“Now will you tell me what happened?” Lily looked at her once the door was closed. “Or are you performing sadness to get my sympathy?”

“Lily…” Mystery Moon sniffled. “The new witch can generate electricity.”

“And?”

“Electricity is magnetism, and magnetism is electricity. She can be me and I can be her.” She looked miserable. “What if her power is stronger and His Majesty doesn’t need me anymore?”

Lily almost choked. “Why would you think that? Even if both of you had identical abilities, His Majesty would never deliberately discard someone.”

“But he’d always be comparing…”

“You’re never the same—” Lily stopped. Something in her own words struck her silent. Never the same? The phrase rang inside her head with a strange resonance. “Wait. What did you say before?”

“Electricity is magnetism?”

“After that.”

“Uh… she can be me.”

“That’s it.” Something turned over behind Lily’s eyes—a door pushed open by a word she hadn’t known she was looking for. She stopped listening to Mystery Moon entirely, went to her desk, drew a drop of water from a cup, placed it under the microscope, and began adjusting the focal length with focused hands.

“What do you mean?” Mystery Moon protested. “Can’t you at least comfort me for a little longer?”

“Leave me alone.” Lily waved once without looking up. “If you don’t want to be overlooked, study harder. That’s your only hope.”

For more than a year she had drawn pictures of target worms, created parent worms from those pictures, and compared the results—and every time, she had failed to produce an exact replica. She could never capture every detail of a target worm through observation. The moment the microscope moved, or the worm shifted, the image changed. A parent worm built on an incomplete picture would never become the original.

The solution had been inside the problem all along.

If you want to turn a parent worm into a particular worm, the two must first become the same thing.

She set a goal. A transparent worm, shaped like a small rotten grape, common in water—a familiar test subject. She placed her finger to the slide and summoned a parent worm invisible to the naked eye. She suppressed its instinct to assimilate the worms around it and moved its tentacles slowly toward the transparent worm. When they touched, the parent worm penetrated into the target worm—slowly, entirely—until its whole body turned a faint purple.

Now the parent worm was the target worm. And the target worm was the parent worm.

She released the restriction on the parent worm’s assimilation power.

For the first time, the parent worm did not revert to its original form. It swam in the shape of the transparent worm. And as time passed, the worms around it were transformed one by one—then spread through the droplet like a tide coming in.

Seven or eight minutes later, she could find nothing in that drop of water but transparent worms.

Discussion

Suggest a change