The late afternoon sun stretched lazily across the academy’s erald-green field, painting the grass in warm gold. Rellie sat cross-legged, her fingers brushing idly over the blades as a soft breeze carried the scent of distant blossoms. Classes had ended, and the usual hum of student chatter had lted into the quiet hum of nature.
Across from her, Towan lounged with his usual effortless ease, one knee propped up as he watched her with amused curiosity.
“So,” Rellie began, tilting her head. “Does that ‘perfect tea’ of yours actually have healing properties?” She couldn’t deny it—ever since she, Len, and Alira had drunk it, their fatigue had lifted like morning mist, their bruises fading faster than any normal recovery should allow.
Towan blinked. “Of course it does.” His tone was light, almost teasing, as if she’d asked whether water was wet. “Don’t you know how healing works?”
Rellie frowned, ntally retracing lessons from her essentia studies. “Healing is done through soone channeling their own essentia into our channels… guiding it slowly to strengthen injured areas.”
“Exactly.” Towan snapped his fingers, a spark of approval in his eyes.
“Then what does that have to do with the tea?” Her confusion deepened. Tea was just leaves and water—wasn’t it?
A slow, knowing smile spread across Towan’s face. “Well,” he said, leaning forward slightly, “that tea was infused with Essentia. Once you drink it, that energy flows through your channels, reinforcing them from within.” He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course you healed fast. I did make it, after all.”
There was no arrogance in his voice—just quiet certainty. As if the idea that his tea wouldn’t work miracles was the real absurdity.
Towan plucked a plain ceramic cup from the table, turning it idly in his fingers before pouring water into it with deliberate slowness. The liquid shimred faintly under the soft light of the afternoon, catching the edges of his smirk as he glanced at Rellie.
“First,” he began, his voice carrying that effortless confidence, “we boil the water.”
Rellie’s brow furrowed, her arms crossing. “But… we don’t use fire?” The question was sharp, skeptical—like she already knew he was about to say sothing ridiculous.
Towan’s grin widened. “Fire’s not the only source of heat.” He lifted the cup, cradling it loosely in one hand. “If you concentrate enough Essentia on a single point…” His fingers tensed slightly, and a faint, shimring haze rippled around his palm. The water inside the cup trembled, then—slowly, steadily—tiny bubbles began to rise.
“…its temperature will rise.”
Rellie’s eyes flicked from the steaming cup back to Towan’s face, her expression caught between fascination and suspicion.
He set the cup down with a soft clink, the heat still curling off the surface in lazy tendrils. “Though,” he added, almost casually, “you’ll have to boil water the natural way.”
A beat of silence.
Rellie stiffened. She hadn’t told him her channels were broken—hadn’t even hinted at it. Yet the way he said it, the knowing glint in his eyes…
(So he can tell that much, huh.)
Towan just leaned back, watching her reaction with quiet amusent, as if the revelation were nothing more than an interesting footnote.
Love this novel? Read it on to ensure the author gets credit.
Towan plucked a delicate tea bag between his fingers, its paper whispering as he dropped it into the steaming cup. The dried leaves inside blood outward like tiny hands unfolding, staining the water amber in slow, swirling tendrils.
Plink. The tag tapped against porcelain as Rellie leaned forward, studying the ordinary ritual with skeptical eyes. "This looks like completely normal tea so far," she remarked, fingers tapping her knee. "When does the essentia infusion happen?"
"Two pathways," Towan answered, raising an index finger that glead faintly with gathering energy. "First thod: force your own essentia into the drink." A wisp of silver light curled from his fingertip before dissipating.
His middle finger joined the first. "Second thod..." The tea's surface suddenly shimred, its brown hues taking on an ethereal glow. "...transform the tea's existing essentia to match your signature." The liquid pulsed once, then settled, now carrying the distinct hum of active magic.
"Which," he continued, rotating the cup to show how the light danced within the brew, "is considerably more elegant. And the one I'll be teaching you." A knowing smile played at his lips as he pushed the now-unnatural tea toward her. "Assuming you trust my brewing skills, that is."
Rellie gave a half-shrug, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her cup. "You're the master here," she conceded, though her eyes remained sharp with curiosity.
"Good." Towan's lips quirked at the edges as he settled deeper into his posture. "This isn't easy—" his gaze flicked aningfully to hers "—but I trust you'll understand what I'm doing." The unspoken acknowledgnt of her intent essentia hung between them like a shared secret.
As Towan's eyelids drifted shut, the tea's rich brown hue began to shimr with an inner light, as if soone had subrged a handful of fireflies in its depths. The liquid stirred without touch, its surface forming perfect concentric ripples that moved counterclockwise in hypnotic rhythm.
Rellie's breath caught. (Oh.)
The realization washed over her like a sudden tide—she could feel it now. Every molecule around them pulsed with essentia, and Towan wasn't forcing his energy into the tea, but rather... communing with what was already there. The technique she'd only ever seen described in crumbling theory tos was unfolding before her, its principles laid bare through the language of intent.
The teacup beca a miniature whirlpool when Towan's eyes snapped open. "Essentia is mory," he recited, echoing the first lesson every student heard. His voice took on a reverent quality as steam curled between them. "It carries the emotions of the living." A soft smile touched his lips as the glowing liquid settled. "This tea... it rembers. The more you cherish those monts, the sweeter the brew."
Rellie stared at the cup, her throat tightening. The essentia swirling within it wasn't just energy—it was a story. Fleeting impressions danced at the edges of her perception: the golden warmth of childhood laughter, the bittersweet ache of farewells, the quiet triumph of hard-won victories. All distilled into this single, perfect cup.
For the first ti, the theory made sense—not as academic abstraction, but as sothing alive and breathing and impossibly beautiful.
"Towan!!" The voice cut through the air like a blade - sharp, urgent. Rellie turned to see Sylra sprinting toward them, her usual composed deanor shattered by visible excitent. It was the first ti Rellie had ever seen the typically unflappable warrior look genuinely anxious.
"I managed to make it spin!" Sylra announced, her face alight with triumph as she skidded to a stop, chest rising and falling with quick breaths.
Towan's eyebrows shot up, genuine surprise flashing across his features before settling into an impressed smirk. "That's... faster than expected." He crossed his arms, the hint of a challenge in his voice. "But I'm sure you've learned the trick behind it, right? Keep the montum of the spin to compress it even further." He made it sound simple, like explaining how to skip stones across a pond.
"Exactly!" Sylra's eyes glittered with understanding. "The more spin speed, the easier the compression becos - and if I maintain rotation during release..." She mid a throwing motion, energy crackling around her fingertips, "...the projectile gains both force and effect."
(She figured that much out in a single day?) Towan's mask of casual instruction slipped for just a mont as the thought struck him. (Last tiline, it took our entire team months to reach this breakthrough...) The mory flashed through his mind - countless failed attempts, frustration mounting with each unsuccessful trial.
He blinked back to the present. "That's great," he said, the warmth in his voice genuine. Then, turning to Rellie with deliberate nonchalance, he added, "Why don't you try brewing so tea? Show your progress later." He was already stepping backward, hands slipping into his pockets. "I think I'll go for a walk."
Rellie nodded, watching as Towan strolled away with forced casualness, his retreat just a little too quick to be entirely natural.
User Comments
0 comments from readers