Chapter 21. Just Feel

  “How is he?”

  “His condition is stable now. But he’s still in bad shape. He let too much destructive dark magic flow through him,” the healer explained to me.

  “He survived, but his internal organs were badly damaged. Especially his bones. They all, well… cracked, basically. From the discharge of those strange lightning bolts, which shattered his bones and damaged his internal organs. His collarbones were hit the worst; the bones there were completely crushed. We’ve almost finished restoring them, of course, but during the recovery we had to put Calypso into an enchanted sleep, otherwise not everyone can endure that kind of prolonged pain…”

  I sighed heavily and hugged myself, pressing my forehead against the glass of Calypso’s room door. I’d spent the whole week at this window while Armarillis’s best healers fought for Calypso’s life.

  Or rather… during the most critical first twenty-four hours, it was Elza who fought, after she yelled at the local ‘useless healers,’ chased everyone away, and worked her magic over Calypso herself, not letting anyone into the infirmary. The whole time she didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, didn’t drink, and didn’t stop her complex magical procedures for even a minute, restoring Calypso with some demonic spells of her own.

  After twenty-four hours, Elza finally emerged from the room — tired and hungry, but pleased with herself. She demanded a double espresso and ‘something or someone to chew on,’ gave instructions to the healers, announced that they could manage without her now, and went to get some well-deserved rest.

  Elza had pulled Calypso out of critical condition, brought him to some stable plateau that was at least compatible with life, and now the healers’ task was to maintain that stability and finish the recovery Elza had started.

  I myself had been unconscious for only a couple of hours after that battle, then came to and felt reasonably okay. Only a terrible weakness remained, but overall I was fine, and the Mentor confirmed this, extremely surprised by my stable condition after such a powerful dark surge.

  “Incredible… No, this is truly incredible,” the Mentor said when he examined me in the infirmary and confirmed my good health.

  “I have no idea how Calypso pulled this off, but he drained the poisonous excess dark magic from you after the lergal attack so precisely that you look like you weren’t even affected and seem maximally stable, more stable than usual…”

  “Calypso…”

  “He’ll be fine,” Ilforte smiled at me.

  “Elza knows what she’s doing, and she was a tremendous help in Calypso’s recovery; the healers will handle the rest, it’ll just take some time. Without Elza, things would have been very bad, of course, no question about it… It’s a great blessing for me that I didn’t even have to ask Elza to help.”

  “For me too,” I said quietly.

  Ilforte said nothing, just gave me a penetrating look and left the infirmary deep in thought.

  And now I stood at the little window in the door to his room, looking at Calypso lying on the bed. He was deathly pale, hooked up to IV lines through which some toxic-blue liquid — some kind of serum — was flowing. My heart clenched with pain and a desperate desire to help somehow at the sight of Calypso like this.

  They still wouldn’t let me into the room. I’d tried again and again. And again and again the healers refused me. But I’m stubborn and wasn’t about to give up.

  “I won’t be long,” I insisted.

  “Let me in for just a couple of minutes, please!..”

  “Out of the question,” the healer shook her head.

  “Mr. Brandt Junior is still too unstable and…”

  “Let her through,” came a cool male voice from the side.

  I turned and looked hopefully at Eric approaching. The healer also turned, but unlike me, she wasn’t quick to smile — on the contrary, she frowned even more.

  “Let her through? But Mr. Clarkson, the patient needs rest!..”

  “He’ll wake up soon,” Eric said confidently.

  “And it would be better if Lorelei were beside him when he does. Unless, of course, you want him to throw a tantrum when he sees the healers and realizes what pathetic shape he’s in for at least the next week. I definitely can’t guarantee you any peace and quiet with that scenario.”

  “You think he won’t throw a tantrum with me there?” I smiled, feeling my heart leap with joy at the words ‘he’ll wake up soon.’

  “I think with you there, he’ll at least try not to lose it,” Eric said thoughtfully, smiling at me not with his lips, but with his eyes alone.

  ***

  Calypso did wake up a few minutes later. I was sitting beside him in a chair, holding his hand, when I felt his long fingers twitch. I watched anxiously as Calypso’s eyelashes fluttered, as he opened his eyes and immediately met my gaze. He looked at me in silence for a long time…

  So much could be read in that gaze: his joy at seeing me safe and sound, and something like disbelief that he was even alive right now and could see me. His gaze was so hungry… But not with an intimate undertone — rather the opposite, with a tender one. Calypso was drinking in my face, my smile, my eyes, as if he couldn’t get enough.

  “You’re alive…” he finally breathed in a hoarse voice.

  “Thank the heavens…”

  “Thank you, not the heavens,” I smiled, blinking rapidly to chase away the unbidden tears.

  “If not for you, I wouldn’t be sitting here beside you right now…”

  I was shaking inside from a storm of emotions. I’d been so afraid for Calypso’s life, so worried about him, that now I was bursting with happiness, and I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time.

  “Ah, that’s nothing,” Calypso grimaced.

  “The main thing is you’re alive… If you hadn’t survived, I would have…”

  He didn’t finish, as if he couldn’t find the right words. He closed his eyes tiredly for a moment, then looked around the room and stared with disgust at the IV tubes, which were now shimmering with bright blue serum.

  “God… I’m so pathetic right now…” Calypso muttered.

  “I feel so weak… I hate weakness… It’s disgusting… I’m disgusting…”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I shook my head.

  “This is just the recovery period. You cast such serious magic that it’s amazing you even woke up only a week after such a shock. The Mentor said that in that moment you managed to use level two hundred sixty spells… You outdid yourself. That’s why the backlash is so brutal. Not every Arma can cast like that, only a handful of mages… But you did it. At such a young age… You’re amazing, Cal.”

  “Right now I’m just an amazing vegetable,” Calypso grumbled, unsuccessfully trying to squeeze my fingers with his.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “And this weakness… it’s disgusting.”

  “You’re being way too hard on yourself about showing weakness. You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to learn to accept it with grace,” I said with a smirk.

  Calypso was about to object but closed his eyes tiredly. He was clearly feeling very bad, and through our joined hands I began quietly channeling my magic into him, hoping it would help speed up the regeneration process.

  Calypso asked me very quietly:

  “So you’re not disgusted looking at me this weak?”

  “Of course not. You’re talking nonsense again.”

  “But why?” he asked, looking at me with his piercing gray eyes.

  “Why aren’t you disgusted?”

  ‘Because I love you,’ I almost blurted out.

  But I bit my tongue just in time.

  I was sure I wouldn’t hear a confession in return from Calypso right now. He wasn’t the type of guy who throws words like that around easily. And I didn’t really want to hear crushing silence in response, or some deliberate smirk with a ‘So what?’

  So I just shrugged and smiled wider.

  “How could I be disgusted by someone who saved my life, risking his own? And who warms my heart and body so wonderfully at night? Where else am I going to find such an amazing ‘hot water bottle bunny’ who’s such a great kisser?..”

  “Oh, come on!..” Calypso snorted with laughter, finally smiling genuinely.

  And I smiled, pleased that I’d managed to shift him away from the negativity.

  “What about you, Cal?”

  “What about me?”

  “Why did you rush to protect me?”

  “Strange question. You would have died if someone hadn’t helped. I had to be that someone.”

  “You could have died yourself.”

  “I couldn’t just leave you to die in agony.”

  “Mm-hmm, and what about your famous ‘me first’ philosophy?” I asked, narrowing my eyes slyly.

  “And how weaklings like me don’t belong ‘in the ranks’? Survival of the fittest, and all that…”

  Calypso looked away.

  “My ‘me first’ thing hasn’t gone anywhere. I don’t want the headache of problems related to my ward’s death. It would be an unpleasant stain on my reputation.”

  Yeah, right, that’s exa-a-actly how I understood it, sure.

  I broke into a sly smile and shook my head skeptically, but didn’t pursue the topic.

  The Calypso I’d always known wouldn’t have just risked his life like that. Not even for just his ward. He would have tried a few times to get through the lightning to me and then given up, throwing his hands up and honestly saying he’d ‘done everything he could, nothing’s working.’

  But Calypso didn’t stop after a few attempts — he accomplished the seemingly impossible, saving me with some elaborate spell… And I was damn pleased to be such an exception to the rules.

  And this gesture of Calypso’s, his willingness to save me at the cost of his own life, told me more about his true feelings than any words could. You don’t fight like that for colleagues or even your best friends. But for the people you love — absolutely. But I wasn’t going to pursue this topic… Not now, anyway.

  I glanced quickly at my wrist, where you could still make out a very faint but still visible golden spiral. What it meant, and what spell Calypso had used, I had no idea, and no one at the academy knew, and I hadn’t found any information about it in the library.

  Curiosity was building inside me more and more, but I decided now wasn’t the best time to pry for details. I had no doubt he’d tell me everything himself when he was in better shape.

  ***

  [Calypso]

  “Why did you rush to protect me?”

  ‘Because I love you,’ I almost blurted out, but shut myself up just in time.

  No, no, I shouldn’t be throwing words like that around right now. They carry too much weight, and for me it means so much — not just saying those three words out loud, but even thinking about them meant a lot to me. Because I’d never had thoughts like this before. And now one had appeared in my head for the first time and was echoing there loudly.

  I was afraid I wouldn’t hear a confession in return from Lori, and I really didn’t want to hear crushing silence in response.

  Even though Lori looked at me with loving eyes, who the hell knows what’s really going on in her heart, and what she’d answer if I asked her directly… I wasn’t emotionally ready for that yet. Right now I was just stunned by my own realization that this seemingly simple word — love — was on the tip of my tongue.

  To love… What does it mean — to love?

  To love is a verb. An action. What should someone who loves do?

  Caress? Well, you can caress and kiss without any tender feelings for a person — caresses and kisses belong to passion, though they’re important to me as expressions of love too. But caresses are different, aren’t they? Some caresses I only allow myself with Lori, and it doesn’t even occur to me to be the same way with anyone else.

  Take care? How?

  Is there some specific set of actions that fits the criteria for caring, by which you can evaluate the ‘level of love’? And the way Lori is now trying to feed me recovery potion from a spoon — does that caring also count as an expression of love? Or is she doing it just because she feels obligated to me for saving her life?

  How would I behave in her place if Lori meant nothing to me as a girl? What would I feel, how would I act? I probably wouldn’t be spoon-feeding her potions “that’s what healers are for, right? And you can show gratitude in other ways, like helping with studies, for example. But would I spoon-feed Lori if she mattered to me?..

  Well, yes, I would… Actually, I used to feed her when she was exhausted after training and didn’t have the energy to eat, and I worried about her not feeling well. That kind of worry, that kind of care, is that also an expression of love? And if so, how long have I actually been in love?..

  Help? What kind of help can be characterized as ‘loving’? Carrying heavy textbooks — does that fall under the criteria of ‘loving,’ or is it just basic help for the weak? Or does it all depend on context?..

  What else is part of the concept of ‘loving’? And when does this ‘loving’ even appear and manifest for the first time? Where is that line I crossed at some point without even noticing?

  I was half-lying on the pillows, Lori had helped me sit up partway. Half-lying, obediently swallowing the sour potion and listening to Lori chatter away non-stop, telling me what had happened at the academy and in the world in general while I was out. Mostly small, everyday things, but right now it felt so good to listen to Lori… Listen and remember, think…

  I remembered how well we’d always gotten along, back when we played together as children, when we spent evenings together as teenagers, when my parents visited Lori’s parents… We often spent those evenings playing board games or solving complex puzzles. Lori had always been an interesting conversationalist, there was always something to talk about with her, it was always fun with her, and it was always easy with her. But still, I’d always seen her as just a cool friend…

  She’d changed during the time we hadn’t seen each other. Changed a lot. It wasn’t even about her appearance and her suddenly changed killer curves that all the guys at the academy were staring at… It was about how she saw herself and something else, hard for me to grasp…

  But when Lori reappeared at the academy a few weeks ago, I looked at her differently. As a girl who could very well be mine. Why hadn’t I looked at her that way before? Because of her gaze… Her gaze had changed so damn much. It had become so… defiant, I guess. And I love it when someone challenges me. I take it as a silent signal and reach out in response. How can I not?..

  Lori used to look at me differently… Analyzing it now: before she’d looked at me with fear and something beaten-down, sort of… Like someone without a backbone. And when a person doesn’t have that backbone, they feel completely different — dim, faded… nothing. But now Lori had that backbone very solidly and brightly. A confident girl who knows exactly what she wants naturally draws attention. And Lori had drawn my attention, and I looked at her in a new way.

  I suppose everyone has their own set of actions they consider love… What is love for me? What should I do to show Lori this feeling? Can I somehow convey it without words? Or are words mandatory? Or are they just words that might mean nothing? And if they’re just words, why is it so hard for me to say them, damn it?

  Ugh, someday my brain is going to eat me alive because I think too much…

  Maybe sometimes you shouldn’t think or do, just feel. Like now, when there’s no strength to do anything, I can’t even hug Lori. All that’s left is to feel and try to somehow transmit that to the object of my affection.

  “Lori…”

  “Mm-hmm?”

  She raised her beautiful blue eyes to me, eyes you could drown in, like in the waters of an azure ocean. I remember perfectly how I looked into Lori’s eyes before losing consciousness, thinking it was the last time I’d look into her eyes. Because I hadn’t expected to survive and see Lori again. See her, hold her, pull her close and kiss her… I hadn’t thought I’d be able to save myself.

  “Kiss me, would you?” I smiled crookedly.

  “I really want to do it, but for several minutes now I can’t even lift my arm… But my tongue works. Works great. Check it out! I desperately need some healing cuddles right now. I’m dy-y-ying without them!..”

  Lori smiled broadly and leaned toward me, covering my lips with hers and quickly drawing me into a sensual kiss.

  This kiss was… different somehow. Fragile, fluttering. Filled with tenderness. I didn’t know how to tell Lori without words that I loved her, that she meant so much to me, that I’d been terrified of losing her, that I’d been ready to die just so she could live… I didn’t know how, but I tried hard to convey it with this kiss, because for now I didn’t have the courage to say it with ordinary words.

  Lori stroked my cheek, and I finally found the strength to cover her hand with mine — still terribly weak and trembling, but to cover it, to feel her warmth, to be near her…

  We kissed like that until the healers started banging on the door with a new batch of recovery potions for me, including one with a strong sedative effect. So I fell asleep holding Lori’s hand and looking into her beautiful eyes. I felt at peace, my heart overflowing with a strange happiness.