This chapter was written in collaboration with Scylla.
“Oh… they were good…” Scylla perked up, shaken out of her continuing deliberations. “It’s just that…”
Her voice trailed off as she brushed her own hair out of her face.
She couldn’t help notice that his ears were flushing, showing his own uncertainty in the situation. They always had a way of betraying him. She wondered if that is why he chose to wear ear-covers and large hats in his later days.
He’s vulnerable? Amon of the Tower… is vulnerable… and he’s letting it show… to me.
“Amon…” She closed her eyes, letting a deep sigh free, contemplating her next words carefully.
The more I lead him back to his powers, the more risk I take. But I have to know if he has truly changed.
“If you are going to use aether again, we are going to need to re-learn how to channel it.”
“It’s all different now.” She pulled his hands apart, holding them in front of him. “All of your patterning has shifted since you’ve come back from your injuries. If you attempt to channel aether the same way you did as when you were in the tower, you’re likely to harm yourself more than anything else. This time you burnt only the ends of your fingers. Next time, you could set your ears on fire.”
Scylla chucked as her mind formed that picture.
“That is why, we need to find a way to retrain you to channel your talents.” The white mage mused. “And I think Ben has something just in mind.”
Amon blinked, taken aback by her sudden shift back into business-healer-mindset. He wasn’t sure what had just happened – it seemed from her words that Scylla did just a complete turn-about on the topic of his developing aetheric abilities.
It hadn’t been something he said –it couldn’t have been. What had changed her mind?
“I burned my fingers? I didn’t even notice.” The Elezen studied his fingertips, realizing this was why she’d been so intent on healing his hands.
Amon was always good about paying little mind to his own small physical pains. After all, pains like that had been constant companions in his previous life, especially in his later years.
What she said made sense, though. This was not his old body – a form fitted to withstand a large influx and flow of aether. A form made to accent and harness the energies of the Tower, even the vast temporal-tinged aether, and to bend them to his desires.
But then she mentioned Ben and his ears drooped slightly with displeasure. Re-learning magic was one thing. But re-learning magic at the whims of that strange mage was another.
“Ben?” Amon allowed his face and voice to reflect his incredulous response, “Really?”