Chapter 9: The Wounds not so easily Sealed

“W-what do I do Gander!” Olice panicked.

Gander wrapped himself around her neck.

“Take hold of your heartflame, emotionss are sssubject to the prime element of Heart, and thussss the heartflame is ssssubject to that. Make the heartflame ssssubject to you, then make your emotionss ssssubject to you”

Olice looked within herself, her heartflame flickered wildly, beating an irregular and frantic rhythm. She grasped onto it. If anything it grew wilder.

“It isn’t working Gander!”

“Impatient child! Imagine it assss a ball! Sssshape it, contain it!” Gander hissed in annoyance.

Olice tried to make a ball from her heartflame, silvery sparks slipped from her ethereal grasp at first, but gradually it took shape and its beat became steady and regular.

An unnaturally calm look, completely out of place of the face of a child, passed onto Olice’s face. What Gander didn’t tell Olice was how dangerous a habit it could be to treat one’s heartflame so.

In the worst case, regular use of the method could result in total loss of emotions. Most dangerous was the quick benefits of suppressing emotion, many mages suppressed their emotions, seeing how easier it was to do things with a ‘mind unclouded’. Too late do they realise the drive emotion can give, the value they have in experiencing things, in dealing with others, the power it can impart to magic. A mage in control of his or her emotions will be stronger than a mage of the same experience who has lost their emotions.

Not only all that, while strong emotions are an route through which spirits can possess someone, a lack of emotion leaves one more vulnerable to possession from other beings than strong emotions do. In particular against mind controlling magics emotion is often salvation, as the mind is hardly a good defence against a form of magic built around attacking it.

“I have it now Gander. What do I need to do now?” Olice asked flatly.

Gander was actually a bit worried at how fast Olice managed to pull her heartflame under order, epecially given how wild her heartflame’s nature was, but he shook his head, it was a matter of life or death.

“With your hand, your physssical hand, take hold of the tip of my tail, it sssshall be the tool we use for thisss!”

The tip of Gander’s tail spun into a grooved needle-like form, Olice took it in her hand without hesitation.

“Done again, next Gander?”

“Begin looking at him, with all of your ssensesss”

Olice did so, and found that it was so much easier to see through the strange flow of magic in the Red Crystal Realm.

Toro’s form was in pieces, the parts themselves swirling and twisting around. Olice instantly saw why Toro was not already dead.

“His patterns are keeping the pieces from completely departing” Olice stated.

Indeed, while they were straining, Toro’s dyed red patterns formed a net that kept the wayward pieces of his form from spinning off into other places and dimensions. The patterns were stretched to their limits. The sight of the frayed patterns would have caused many to wince of flinch, but Olice, her emotions rendered silent, merely spoke again to Gander.

“I have to put him back together? How?”

Gander was still staring at Toro. Healing was not really his area, he had no ability for promoting, purging, substitution, surrogacy or manifestation. Sealing was rarely considered a healing magic, but Gander felt that was what was exactly what was required. Gander wanted to laugh really. This was possibly one of the only kinds of problems he could deal with. A regular wound would have presented far more complications.

“That needle of my body in your hand. We’ll ussse my ssubssstance for glue, put him back together, piece by piece, begin with the partsss further in, and make your way out. Be careful not to get hiss pattern trapped behind any of the piecess… hopefully he should ssstabilize after that” Gander explained.

It wasn’t the worst of plans, especially for a spirit and a mage that weren’t great magicians. Gander being a spirit of shadow primarily, fell under the domain of the prime element of Phantasm. Also within that prime element was the concept and actuality of binding.

Olice caught hold of what looked like the deepest piece, and began to seal it in with Gander’s needle. She continued with this mechanically, piece by piece. Sometimes a piece would come loose again, and she’d have to put it in again. Other times, she would grab a piece before she could actually put it in, but usually Gander or herself would notice before it was too late. The greatest problem was how Toro would sometimes shake and thrash, but Gander made sure that she wasn’t hurt.

This was one case where Olice being a child was a boon, she had such small fingers, and thus could get the pieces in well. Of course a proper mage wouldn’t have used their hands, but then many mages would have had other ways to deal with the problem. Then again, some would not have been able to do it at all, even if they had the power to level a city.

“Done. He is not settling though” Olice stated.

Toro Yacob’s body was trembling, the combination of the patterns and Gander-glue barely keeping him together. Gander thought about what to do, he was drawing a blank, but as he was doing so, he felt Olice pulling from her heartflame. She opened her mouth and breathed fire over Toro!

He screamed and rolled away, while Olice simply watched.

“What are you doing? What posssesssed you to make you think that wass a good idea!?!” Gander questioned.

“Ah. It worked” Olice said, no surprise in her voice.

Gander spun around to look at Toro. His form was slowly settling down, and his patterns had tightened, reverting to a more normal covering. Gander was shocked, but then he understood. Toro was trained. He instinctively reacted to an attack, protecting himself with his patterns, but not only that the magical flame had promoted a good reaction in Gander’s improv glue.

“It worked. It is done” Olice repeated.

Olice released her hold on her heartflame before Gander could say anything.

First she felt relief. Then a tide of emotion swept over her. She collapsed and huddled into a ball crying. She was so tired. Lonely. It hurt, it hurt.

Gander quickly covered her body, trying to mute the impact of emotions, but also trying to keep her from broadcasting her emotions, who knew what manner of creature could be attracted by such an outpouring.

Olice could not see for the tears. Weariness overtook her.

She felt a pair of arms lift her, and it was as if a dagger was driven in her heart, because she knew they were not the arms of her father, her mother or her uncle.

“I want to go home. I want to go home” She wailed.

She kept saying this until it was a whimper and then she fell into exhausted troubled sleep.

She did however, faintly hear a voice as she drifted off.

“Thank you, brave little girl, you saved me again”

[make more people aware of Fabled Hearts by voting for it on Top Web Fiction HERE]