While Lysandra was preoccupied with her dear friend returning, Saria was busy training in the secret room in the tunnels under the Palace with Olios.
Since her abilities fully awakened during her confrontation with Rosa, Saria didn’t really have the time to properly test them. She had no idea what she was able to do, nor what her limit was.
Lysandra had been searching for a teacher for her, however, the matter turned out to be even more difficult than anticipated.
To find someone who could use blood magic was already challenging, but having them be highly skilled and trustworthy was making it borderline impossible.
Fortunately, Saria could still rely on Olios.
His experience with training the Ignari proved to be quite useful even for blood magic. Some principles remained the same across the entire magical spectrum, after all, so the basics could be taught and practiced even without a specialized teacher.
Olios even agreed to be a test subject for a couple of riskier experiments, which Saria felt really grateful for. Thanks to this, after a three-hour session, the mystery of the blood magic capabilities was partially uncovered.
Controlling limbs or even the entire body, the ability to cause temporary blindness, or even stopping and restarting a heart. Those were the skills Saria found the most useful and promising.
The wide range of uses carried its own difficulty levels, too. Some things came to her with ease, while others required a considerable amount of focus and control. From what Saria had discovered, the more the skill interfered with the subject’s bodily functions, the more effort it required.
The most challenging and demanding so far was controlling the heart.
It was at this point in their practice that Saria noticed another quirk of her magic.
The more she tampered with another person’s body, the more it drained her own energy. It was hard to tell if it was actually using her life essence to fuel the magic, or whether she simply needed to build more tolerance.
The experience did align with what happened in Sisica, so just to be safe, Saria had decided to be more restrained when it came to using her magic. At least until she could get some answers.
Once the training session was finished, Olios sat on the bench in the training chamber and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
Usually, he was eager to leave the underground as soon as possible, the lack of sunlight and fresh air was something he could barely tolerate for more than two or three hours. However, this time, Olios didn’t seem to be in a rush.
He drank some water from his waterskin, then sat in silence, absorbed by his thoughts.
“You know… when my brothers and I were still children, we loved this one story our grandmother used to tell us,” he said suddenly. “Would you like to hear it?”
Saria didn’t know what prompted this sudden urge for storytelling, but she still agreed.
They never had many opportunities to talk, so she didn’t know Olios all that well, despite them training together frequently. This was a good chance for her to fill some gaps.
She took the spot next to him on the bench. “Alright. I’m all ears.”
“My grandmother was born into a poor family of farmers. One of many during that time, there wasn’t anything special about them or the village they lived in.” Olios began his tale.
“Her life wasn’t easy, having to work on the farm alongside her six siblings from dawn till dusk, but it was a happy one. You see…” he continued. “The village my gran lived in was small—only around two hundred people—but they were all very close with each other. Neighbor squabbles were rare, the folks helped one another as much as they could.”
“Sounds peaceful,” Saria noted.
Olios’ expression brightened as he nodded eagerly. “It was… it really was,” he said. Then, the smile on his face disappeared just as fast as it showed up.
“One day an unfamiliar merchant showed up in the village, offering grain at a much lower price than anywhere else,” he continued. “Naturally, my gran’s family—and other villagers for the matter—couldn’t let an opportunity like this pass, so they bought a full cart of it.”
Saria immediately felt that the story was about to take a darker turn. This time, she didn’t interrupt, silently following along.
“To celebrate, her mother made an incredible feast that evening, using the grain from the seller as the main ingredient. Everything was fine during supper, but the next day the entire family unexpectedly got sick. My gran, having a weak constitution since birth, had it the hardest. While the rest of the family recovered within a day, her condition was only getting worse.”
Olios’ brows knit tightly, as he recalled every detail of the story his grandmother told him countless times.
He remembered being told that her father rushed to the village’s elder seeking help, only to discover that his family wasn’t the only one affected.
Many others who bought the grain were also struck by a sudden illness. Some were back on their feet within a day, while others—notably the elderly and those with weaker bodies—remained bedridden and tormented by fever.
It didn’t take long for the first life to be claimed by the sickness.
The villagers gathered as much gold as they could and called for a healer from the nearby town. Unfortunately, even he was helpless. The conventional healing methods failed, tonics, potions, and medicinal brews had no effect whatsoever.
The disease didn’t have clear symptoms, it appeared to attack different areas of the body at random.
At that point, it seemed that it was only a matter of time before all afflicted were consumed by it.
As fate had it, two travelers were passing through the village. When they learned about the mysterious sickness, they offered to take a look.
“My gran said she will never forget the sight she woke up to.” There was a hint of admiration, even reverence, in Olios’ voice as he was sharing this part with Saria. “A woman was sitting at the edge of her bed. Half of her face was hidden behind a veiled mask, while her black hair flowed loosely down her shoulders.
“But the most memorable were her eyes. Red like fresh blood, but there was no malice in them. Gazing into those eyes, my gran felt peace, she thought that the woman must have been one of the spirits that came to guide her to the afterlife.” Olios chuckled, recalling his grandmother’s exaggerated expression whenever she was telling this part of the story.
“The woman said something to her in a language my gran didn’t understand. Then she said only one word in Common. ‘Endure’. In the next moment, my gran felt horrible pain erupt in her whole body. She said that it felt like her blood was boiling within her veins. As if every cell in her body was falling apart.”
Olios’ words stirred Saria’s memories. Vague images, distant sensations from the time she spent in Sekaris’ training complex.
She wasn’t the only blood mage in the organization. There were others, children like her. They were pitted against one another, forced to use their powers to weed out the competition. Only the strongest could survive and become a part of Sekaris.
Saria was one of the few who passed the test. However, she never forgot the pain of having her own body used against her.
“My gran was certain she was about to die. But as the pain slowly faded away, she realized that not only was she still alive, but the weakness of her body also subsided. Her condition started improving. After three days, the disease poisoning her body was completely out of her system, and my gran—and others—were cured.”
“Did the villagers ever find out what caused the illness?” Saria asked.
Olios smiled wryly and gave a nod. “The lord who owned the land was annoyed that the village was expanding too much. He hated the sight of peasants, but he also needed them to work, so he devised a plan.
“He hired an alchemist to create a poison that wasn’t dangerous to the healthy, but turned deadly to those with a weaker constitution. He poisoned the grain and sent the seller to spread it among the villagers. ‘To filter out the useless ones,’ he said.” Olios spat viscously, as if the words alone tasted bitter.
Saria watched him gulp the water from his waterskin and rinse his mouth. “I can’t imagine that the people just moved on after something like this,” she said once he was done.
“Ha! Of course they didn’t!” the man exclaimed. “When the people found out, they outright stormed the lord’s villa and tore him to pieces.” Olios leaned closer and looked her in the eye. “Turns out that once they have no army to hide behind, even the lords are no different than common folk. They bleed and die all the same.”
Perhaps it was the dim light cast by the torches spread around the chamber, or her eyes playing a trick on her, but there was a brief moment that Saria saw a shadow crossing Olios’ face.
“A few years later, the Emperor granted the village independence and put the local Elder in charge,” the man continued. His expression was just as normal as always, and the unsettling feeling disappeared as fast as it came. “Now the village is the biggest and most prosperous independent city in the Eastern Helinea Mountains.”
Searching her memory, Saria recalled a city that fit the description. “Anebossa?” she asked.
“Indeed.” Olios grinned proudly. “Have you ever visited?”
“No, not personally. But I heard about it. Anebossa is famous for its alchemy school. Many aspiring physicians wish to study there.”
Olios nodded eagerly, pleased with his companion’s answer. “The school was founded by the Elder’s son after his father passed. The boy was one of those who nearly died from the disease. He spent his life researching all sorts of alignments and developing affordable cures for them.”
Saria thought about the story, the supposedly irrelevant tale and grew silent.
“Do you think those travelers were Blood Mages?” she asked in the end.
“I think so. I used to believe that my gran was hallucinating in fever, but after meeting you, I think it’s highly probable that those people were like you.”
Olios got up from the bench and patted Saria’s shoulder. “That means that you have even more power than you realize. And this gift can be used not only to take a life, but grant one as well.”
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