Page 10 of Winds of Death
“That doesn’t make sense.” Fieran gestured at himself as best he could with his good hand. “I’ve been getting dizzy spells when I use my magic in large quantities. I had one at Fort Defense after wielding a lot of magic, and the healer there determined that it was because I was half-human and wielding the magic of the ancient kings was taking a toll on me.”
“I highly doubt that is the case.” Nylian shook his head even more vehemently this time. “I am far more familiar with you and your magic, and I can safely say it is not your human side weakening you. At least, not in the way that healer meant. While I do not wish to disparage another of my profession, I suspect they took the easy answer instead of looking deeper.”
“Then why…” Fieran waved at himself again. What was going on? Was there actually something seriously wrong with him?
“How long do the dizzy spells usually last?” Nylian steepled his fingers, his gaze sharpening.
“Not long. Sometimes they even pass during the battle, and I can go back to fighting without issues.” Fieran tried to remember the exact timeline of the handful of times he’d felt that weakness and dizziness. “I’ve been able to wield more power each time before it hits. The last time, it didn’t hit until I held back the full force of Dacha’s power for several minutes. Yet I was already feeling better by the time the healer examined me. He said the only thing wrong he could sense was that my body showed signs of physical strain.”
Nylian made a thoughtful humming noise as he tapped his steepled fingers against his chin. “That is interesting. I do not believe you need to worry that anything deeper is wrong with you or your magic. If that were the case, you would grow dizzyevery time you used your magic, and it would likely last far longer.”
“Then what is going on?” Fieran couldn’t help the bite to his words. It was just so frustrating not having an answer to this. Especially when what he thought was an answer actually wasn’t.
“I will have to ponder this more, but I suspect it could be because you are human, but not in the way that other healer made it sound.” Nylian spoke slowly, as if he was trying to put his words together very deliberately. “Until now, your use of your magic has been in a very human way. Your largest expenditures of your magic have been in filling magical power cells, a human invention mostly used to power more human inventions.”
“Except for training with my dacha.” Fieran glanced at where his swords rested now, leaning against the wall beside the table, still in their canvas wrappings.
“Yes. Even then, would I be correct in assuming that it did not feel like training for war?” Nylian raised a single eyebrow.
Fieran hesitated, then shook his head. “No. Not to me, anyway.”
He’d been a lackluster student back then. Treating that time with his dacha and his sisters as more a game than serious training.
“You and your sisters are the first generation to have been raised with this particular conception of the magic of the ancient kings.” Nylian eyed Fieran. “That is not to disparage the way your dacha raised you. Your dacha was raised on a battlefield, and it caused him other problems with his magic. But it is the case that most of the warriors with the magic of the ancient kings were raised with war and battle in mind.”
“Why would that affect my magic like this?” Fieran felt like he was back in the classroom, not quite getting the concept the professor was trying to teach him.
“It could be that you have not built up the magical stamina to wield great quantities of your magic in battle.” Nylian’s tone remained patient. “Battle demands a very uncontrolled, very powerful unleashing of your magic, yet until now your magical practice has focused on using controlled, small quantities for practical purposes. The more magic you wield, the less dizziness you should experience. But it has nothing to do with your half-human side, and everything to do with building up a stamina of a very powerful magic. Such a thing takes time.”
“That would explain why the dizziness goes away so quickly.” Fieran spoke slowly, not sure if he dared believe such a simple answer.
“But it could also be the way magic is wielded.” Nylian eyed Fieran. “Dwarves use magic in conjunction with tools. It is crafted. Those few humans with magic must also craft it and are by far the most separate from magic. Elves, however, wield magic from the heart. It flows directly from us, and because of that, it is deeply tied with our emotions and perceptions of ourselves. If you were to hold a more human perception as you tried to wield the elven magic of the ancient kings, that would cause difficulties.”
Fieran slumped onto his pillow, his mind reeling. Were those dizzy spells because he was, subconsciously, attempting to wield the magic of the ancient kings more like a human than an elf? Or because hefeltmore human than he did an elf most of the time? “So it’s all in my head?”
“No. I am not dismissing the dizziness and weakness. Those are real. But whatever is causing the disconnect between your heart and your magic so that wielding your magic puts a strain on your body is also real.”
“Then why haven’t I experienced this before? Or had other difficulties with my magic?” He’d never feared his magic. He’dlearned control easily enough and hadn’t struggled with it the way his dacha said he had.
“Your magic has never been tested in this way, used at this kind of full strength, nor put to its true purpose before.” Nylian rolled his shoulders in a hint of an elven shrug. “It is quite logical that such difficulties would manifest now when they had not before.”
Great. Another thing to add to the roiling mass of emotions and thoughts he needed to sort out. Once he was out of this bed. Out of this hospital. Away from everyone who could judge him for breaking.
His magic crackled through his chest, threatening to burst from his fingertips. He desperately needed a good run. Or, better yet, a good fighting bout. Something to unleash everything bottled up inside him.
Nothing he could do about that now until he was healed and out of this hospital.
Chapter
Five
Fieran gritted his teeth as he leaned on the orderly on one side and his mama on the other. He tottered the last few steps toward the silver roadster, which was parked in front of the hospital.
Mama reached past him and opened the passenger door. “In you go.”
Fieran all but collapsed onto the plush leather seat, unable to fully stifle his groan. He shouldn’t be this tired and sore just walking from the door of the hospital to the motorcar waiting for him.
But he was up. He was walking. At this point, he was grateful for that much. As the healers kept telling him, he was taking to the healing magic very well, considering he’d only been in the hospital for less than five days.
