Chapter 23 - Weak

KNOCK KNOCK

Holly felt her heart stop at the sudden thumping on the door. Who was there? It could be anyone. Anything. She stopped breathing, fearful that whatever force existed on the other side would hear her respiration.

“It’s me!”

But the familiar voice on the other side instantly assuaged those fears. Taking a much-needed breath, she hopped to the door, undid the lock and chain, and threw the door open.

Cris got more than he bargained for as he was tackled to the ground, Holly hugging him tightly.

“Woah, didn’t realize we were on hugging terms,” joked the lycoris.
“You saved me!” Holly sobbed.

Yeah, it was forward, but her true feelings were shining, mask or not.

---

The flower-bearer sat in the chair while Holly took the bed.

“How’re you feelin’ champ?” he asked the loaded question.

The berry girl deflated, her gaze lowering. “Weak,” she admitted.

Cris sighed. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” he replied. “Unfortunately, that’s just the reality of the situation out here,” he said.

Holly nodded slowly, her rueful gaze held low.

“This society, all of it, isn’t built with solo Resonators in mind; even ones as magically capable as we are,” Cris told her.

She finally met his gaze. His expression was cold but tired. She took a breath. “What do you mean?” asked the fruit-bearer.

The lycoris hummed, considering his wording. “Have you noticed it?” he returned her question with one of his own.

“Noticed what?” questioned Holly.
“Resonators are lesser to a lot of Maestros.”

There was a suspicion Holly had, every little thing she had observed. Considering everything she had seen in the couple of weeks she had been out of Inverna, it all added up. Every time she saw a Resonator it was in service to a Maestro. Every time.

“Not to say all Maestros are the scum of Riterra, but there are enough bad seeds out there to spoil the bunch.” Cris leaned back in the chair. “It’s either you pick someone good enough, or you end up like you almost did last night.”

The thought made her nauseous. Clarisse the Brave, her idol; the Fire Hero – was it all a lie? Were Maestros really that self-serving? Was she better off never leaving home?

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Cris spoke suddenly. “Whatever garden you came from isn’t safe either.”

“Garden?” Holly questioned, raising a brow.
“That’s what our little homes we’re born in are called. I’m from Verano, it’s in Nabhon,” replied the lunar-blessed plant.

Holly’s eyes widened with awe. “That’s so far away,” she gasped her understatement.
“Opposite side of the world is just a little far away,” he chuckled. “Where are you from?” he inquired.
“Inverna, it’s here in Selvica.”

Cris nodded. “You seem like a smart berry – you probably realized there’s no way we could make all the stuff we have in our little gardens, right?”

She sat up straight, knowing full well he was about to quell another of her burning suspicions about her former home.

“The Grand Malus of each garden trades the produce of our people for all the goods for their garden. The apples are held in great esteem of course, so that’s always the bulk of the bartering,” Cris explained. “Wanna know why?”

“Apples are the strongest?” guessed Holly – it was what she had always heard, but no one ever explained what that meant.

“Every part of an apple is nearly priceless. The apple flesh can be ground into juice that restores rhythm greater than any healing spell and apples can only grow on us zalavan,” he explained.

A ton of things clicked neatly into place at that moment. “But wait, why is there a statue of an apple tree in Inverna then?” she questioned.

Cris snorted. “Oh, your place has one of those tacky things too? From what I’ve heard, apples used to grow on trees, but something changed a long time ago and now only we can carry them.”

For every question he answered, more cropped up. What would change that could stop a plant from growing except on a zalavan? It was all so strange.

“The seeds are what truly give apples the title of ‘most powerful’,” Cris continued.

As Holly locked eyes with him, he spoke forbidden knowledge into the world. “Apple seeds contain ultimate magic.”

---

Holly sat alone in her hotel room. Cris had to suddenly leave, but he promised to come pick her up so they could go hunting again that night.

The bombshell of knowledge he dropped gripped her heart.

Ultimate magic – a class of spells with capabilities well beyond even the strongest attack or support magic. They had many names and monikers. Cheat spells, god mode, reality breakers. They did things normal spellcasting simply could not do. They reached into the realms of what could be considered “Verus Magia”, true magic.

And Holly was intimately familiar with these spells. They always tickled her fancy; her mind ran wild with the possibilities lost to time. Things like the fire attack ultimate that destroyed anything crafted by civilization. The water spell that freely restored vitality to any that sipped it. Even an unblockable lightning spell that always hit its mark.

It wasn’t just the elements that bore spells in the ultimate class, healing and shielding attributes had some of their own, showing the capricious nature of the magic as a whole.

The only rule to ultimate magic was every Resonator only got one. Only one ultimate-level spell could ever be attained by a Resonator. Nobody knew how it worked.

Yet… the apple seeds contained the potential to become any ultimate spell from her understanding of Cris’ revelation.

Why was she taken? This new question was at the forefront of Holly’s mind. The kidnappers said they stole apple seeds and needed a zalavan to go with them.

Was she going to be used to grow apples for that Mr. Noel person?

Or…

…was he going to use her as a weapon?

From Cris’ explanations that’s how Holly perceived the modern Maestro – Resonator dynamic; a human and their weapon. Maestros gave their rhythm to channel magic through their Resonators. The trade-off should have been that the Maestro would give the Resonator a good life, it would be a partnership.

“Just like Clarisse and Nikolas…”

But at some point, those pure bonds had been perverted, becoming a ghoul of its former self.

“I need to get those seeds back,” Holly determined. They were extraordinarily dangerous in the wrong hands, and Mr. Noel, whoever he was, fit that moniker perfectly.

She couldn’t do anything about it now, however. Long had she lost those kidnappers, instead, she was dealing with common thugs trying to sell her off for a quick note.

She suddenly perked up. “I wonder if there’s a library here.”

---

Being in public was horrifying after last night. All alone, Holly walked through the streets, her eyes carefully watching every Maestro as she passed them. Any of them could turn on her in an instant. She felt surrounded by possible enemies.

On her left, affixed to her skirt and hidden by her jacket was her utility knife – if magic failed her, perhaps she could dissuade would-be attackers with physical threats. However, she did not put all her seeds in one pot. She palmed four cacao; that way she’d be able to Preschiverò and flee at a moment’s notice. All she wanted to do was go to the library and yet it felt worse than hunting. It was almost preferable to fight the Scherzando. At least their violence was knowable and predictable.

The passage of time was fickle and fleeting. It didn’t help that poor Holly was stuck in her head as she wandered around Ralevi as lost as could be.

By sheer dumb luck, or perhaps some malicious intent by a certain sage, the zalavan stumbled upon the local university.

Just like everywhere else in the city, Maestros and their Resonators sauntered about. Though many were closer to her age – late teens; many of whom carried books and bags and discussed various topics. Some talked about class work, others complained about romances failing and blossoming, and even more so talked about parties yet to be attended.

Holly let her legs take her in no particular direction. Just like the park she found the day prior, there was an artificial pond on the large property. Further traversal revealed another battle court, this one was currently vacant.

Still, Holly found herself drawn to it. She took in every imperfection her eyes could catch.

Steel chain links showed their age but still held firm. Contained within the cage meant to partition the chaos of battle from public exposure was the paved court. It was blemished with scars of battle worn proudly as a centerpiece of Maestro society.

The zalavan sighed, gripping the metal fence tightly. That bird had said that fighting other Resonators was a possibility. She learned last night what being beaten by another felt like. If only it was for sport and not for her freedom, perhaps she could have enjoyed the experience. As it stood, she was more wary than ever.

Through the fence, she spotted her quarry – the reason she braved the Riterran public – a library.

Stepping around the court, she began her trek towards the house of books. She was about to fill those knowledge gaps that bothered her so.