Chapter 115: 115: Doubts

Ryn's POV

Grace was in the girl's common area when I got back from the last day of our second week building since Fennimore's attack. She was in the middle of walking to Kelsey, but I didn't pay much attention to what they were saying. I just shot the shorter girl an apologetic look, grabbed my girlfriend's hand, and dragged her towards our bedroom.

"You okay there, Ryn?" She asked, once the door was shut.

"Battery low," I mumbled, and pushed her backwards onto the bed. She wasn't wearing any armour today, thankfully. Just soft cotton and leather.

Grace's arms came up to catch me as I flopped down on top of her. A wave of relief and safety washed over me with such a depth and intensity that tears instantly sprang up. Letting out a noise that was somewhere between bliss and pain, I smushed my face into her neck and finally relaxed.

"I hate all this building," I mumbled into her neck, using my words to literally kiss the soft skin there while I spoke.

Her fingers worked their way into my hair, and she stayed silent for a few moments, gently massaging my scalp. "I know, babe, I know. Until there's more mages around, you're being pulled in a million different directions."

"Maybe I should make another mage," I mumbled. "It's about time I consolidated my power."

"It is," she said, kissing the top of my head. "Who will you choose?"

Making an unintelligible grumbling sound, I tried to snuggle closer against her. She felt so warm and good. Like happiness and safety and comfort. It was wild to remember where we had started—drenched and shivering behind a statue. I'd been a year since then, I think. Something like that. Longest year of my life. It felt like a decade had passed.

"Sometimes, I look back on who I was and I don't even recognize myself," I said, relaxing the embrace slightly so I could look up at her. "The name Elias doesn't even hurt anymore. I've changed so much."

"Grown," she told me pointedly. "You've grown. I can still see a lot of your past self in you now, but without a lot of the fear and self doubt that you used to carry. You've changing the subject, though. Who will you choose?"

"I don't think I will," I replied. “I’ll let the order decide.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked, frowning now. “For the first one, I mean?”

I shrugged, and before she could push further, leaned in to kiss her. Kissing was the perfect distraction.

The next day, I made my way out to the banks of the upper lake of my grove and sat down at the edge to think. The whole idea of creating a mage fruit was weird to me, and I wasn’t really interested in everything that came with it. Being somebody’s mage mother? No thanks. I was not ready for that commitment.

I must’ve been sitting at the lakeside for a long while, because eventually, Esra wandered her way over to me.

“My old bones are not cut out to be chasing moping children around a grove,” she grumbled first thing as she arrived.

“I didn’t exactly invite you over here,” I said, but my heart wasn’t really in the banter today.

She stood staring at me for a few seconds, then grunted and shuffled to sit next to me. “What are you cooking up in that wild brain of yours?”

I considered deflecting, but she was the perfect person to get advice from on the matter. “I’m thinking about making a mage fruit, but I’m not ready to teach someone how to be a mage and all that,” I said, and after a moment, I gave a wry laugh and added, “I’m not ready to be a mother.”

Esra shared my amusement with a chuckle, but she quieted down after a second or two to give me a considering look. “Rynadria, it has just occurred to me that you have not grown into your own as a mage while being immersed in our culture. This conundrum has already been confronted and overcome by mages long since passed.”

I perked up. “Oh?”

“When a younger mage wishes to create a mage fruit, but does not wish to take on the responsibility of teaching another the arcane arts of the Nameless Garden, they have two primary options,” she explained. “You can either hide the mage fruit, as I did, or you can have another mage take up the responsibilities of teaching the newly minted magic user how to harness their powers. In this case, the new mage would be considered the apprentice or mage-child of the teacher.”

I almost flopped backwards in relief when she finished explaining. I was only young! I had so much to do before I started a family! However… I wasn’t entirely convinced that the arrangement she described would work for us in the long term. We’d need a school for mages, probably tied to the Order somehow. For the time being, however, the traditional way of doing things would work fine.

“Okay, in that case,” I said, reaching over to poke her arm. “You can teach the person who gets my mage fruit!”

“I expected to be saddled with your child at some point,” she nodded sagely, just the barest hint of a cheeky smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Hey, they won’t be my child, they’ll just be… uh…” I grimaced. God, this was so weird!

“I jest, little one,” She smiled. “The point is very much to put the burden of mage-parenthood onto someone responsible and with a preeminent knowledge of magic.”

“I’m sure the arrogance helps you teach them too?” I asked innocently.

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“Brat,” she shot back, and with that one little exchange of banter, I felt like everything was okay in the world.

My grove helped me too. Something about the massive tree overhead and the gently swaying forest arrayed around it gave me comfort. I should spend a day or two working on it soon, just to clear my head of the endless construction we were doing. Maybe I’d have a little extra time once we had another mage?

“How do I make the fruit?” I asked Esra after a minute had passed.

“It’s instinctual,” she said softly, without her characteristic snark. “Feel the heart of your grove within you and… well, pollinate it.”

“Oh, that is so dirty,” I muttered. It was basically selfcest.

“Young lady, it is not dirty,” my mage mother replied indignantly. “It is a sacred and deeply personal part of being a mage.”

“I mean, can’t it be both?” I teased her, but I stopped when I saw the genuine frown she wore. Okay, so this was a legit topic I couldn’t be an idiot about. “Okay, okay, I won’t make any more jokes. I guess I’ll go and do it?”

“You do that,” she agreed with a nod. “Don’t forget to take it out of the grove quickly, or you’ll lose it.”

“Yes, mom,” I replied, already walking away. I guess I’d go tell everyone to meet me out in the mundane world? Gosh, it was nice that everyone had their own transportation in and out of the grove now.

I made my way back towards the tree and spotted Kelsey, who was carrying a cup of coffee as she made her way towards the descent to the outer grove. Waving her down, I hurried over to speak with her.

“Hey Kels, can you ask the order’s council to drop what they’re doing and meet me out near where the river is closest to Avonside?” I asked, speaking quickly.

She arched an eyebrow when I finished speaking and shifted her grip on a sheaf of papers that’d been hidden on her other side as I approached. “Sounds more urgent than these reports I’m going to work through. What’s up?”

“I’m going to make a magefruit, and obviously I need the council’s help to figure out what to do with it once it’s grown,” I explained, feeling almost wiggly with anticipation now. This was the moment that I’d forever solidify my place as one of the most powerful mages in this corner of the ring. Even if someone burned my entire grove to the ground, I’d still have the raw power I’d amassed.

“Oh, shit, that’s the thing that makes more mages, right?” she asked, startled. “Yeah, I’ll go gather Troy and the others right away.”

I was moving before she’d even agreed to my request. “See you there!”

Hurrying up the tower, I had to force myself not to climb the stairs on all fours like some kind of rabid animal. It was a habit I’d had for most of my childhood and early teenagehood, and only after being mocked at school for it had I finally quit it. Didn’t stop me from resorting to it in private, though. I guess I was and still am slightly feral? Ryn of Avonside, Feral Mage. It had a certain ring to it.

I reached the girl’s common room and found it empty except for the debris of Kelsey’s recent coffee making and Cream, who was cleaning it up. I came to a rest next to the little bun, who looked up at me with so much intelligence and love in her eyes.

“Hey, Cream,” I said, giving her a smile. “Did Kels leave that mess everywhere? You know you don’t have to clean that kind of thing up for us in this room, right?”

“Yes,” she nodded, her floppy ears waving back and forth with the movement. “I do—” her face scrunched up in concentration for a moment, then she found the word she was looking for. “—Regardless. Help tall buns, make happy.”

Goddess, but her broken speech was so fucking precious. She was learning and trying, and it was amazing to see. These buns were all real people, there was just a language barrier between us.

“Why does it make you happy to help us anyway?” I asked, musing to myself more than her. I didn’t expect her to have given the question much thought.

To my surprise, she gently thumped one foot in the bunny equivalent of a frown. “Outside groveburrow is too headache. Mean others, hurt each other, hurt us, take treats away, even burn burrows. Is not happy. Tall buns deal with, small buns do easy thing instead. Cream clean sour bean juice, Keelsay do funny paper thing.”

“Huh,” I grunted. Damn, she’d actually thought about it. Sounded like more than just her opinion too. The way she was speaking made me think it was a consensus amongst the buns about their role in everything. I could understand it, too. If I had the choice between doing what I did or just cuddling people who needed cuddling and cleaning things that needed cleaning, I’d have to really think about it too.

“What La— what Ryn do?” Cream asked, tilting her head and looking around the room. “Now?”

“I’m about to make a mage fruit so my power will be protected if anything happens to the grove,” I explained, leaning down to briefly scratch behind her ear.

She lowered her head and accepted the scritches, but her eyes were apprehensive. “Save small buns too?”

“This won’t,” I said, shaking my head apologetically. “Not directly. We need defenders for that, like the buns training with the weapons. Ugh, if I had time, I’d work on a spell to preserve you buns if the grove was destroyed, but there’s so many things to do.”

“Stop others burning burrow more important than what happen if it do burn,” she nodded thoughtfully. “Cream help make fruit?”

Giggling at her earnestness, I nodded. “Sure. I’m going to do it in the bedroom, then we’ll go out of the grove to plant it.”

“Cream help tend fruit,” she said happily, putting down the coffee debris as she followed me towards the bedroom.

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