Gunmage
Chapter 113: Motion demands memory

Chapter 113: Chapter 113: Motion demands memory

Most people never reach Anchor, not even Father.

Then she leaned in, as if about to spill some delicious secret.

"But Mother is different."

’Isolde?’

Lugh thought.

Lirienne continued, her voice lowering to a hush.

"She was an Anchor even before she got married. A true prodigy."

"Hmm"

Lugh fell silent, lost in thoughts.

"An Anchor huh?"

He said aloud

"Yes! Amazing, right?"

Lirienne’s eyes were practically filled with stars.

"But that was more than twenty years ago"

His voice was cool, like a bucket of cold water. Lirienne faltered, the glow in her eyes dimming for a brief moment. But she quickly shook it off.

"Advancing in ranks isn’t easy. I’ve no doubt she’s one of the strongest Anchors to ever exist. I am very sure that she’ll reach the level of Crown someday."

Crown.

The word lingered on his tongue.

He asked,

"Would a thousand-year-old elf rank as Crown?"

"What? No! Are you insane?"

She laughed, then caught herself, as if he’d genuinely worried her.

"Elves don’t even rank on the scale. They’re far too powerful. They’re like... deities."

She said it reverently, all the while genuflecting her slender arms.

"Elves are not deities"

Lugh replied coolly.

He would know. After all, he’d killed one... and roasted another.

Granted both victories were dubious in nature.

Emrys was less than a single step away from death while the royal guard underestimated him to the point of not setting up a magical barrier.

Still, they weren’t deities. Far from it.

True deities were infinitely more terrifying.

His thoughts drifted, to the Devil Sea.

To Xhi.

She is a priestess of something, after all.

Speaking of Xhi, he hadn’t heard from her since. Did she even know where he was?

"They might as well be"

Lirienne’s voice drew him out of his thoughts.

People respected elves, idolized them even. But when one started practicing magic, that respect turned into worship.

And the worst part?

There was an entire kingdom of them, just west of Ophris.

The Kingdom of Jazeer.

But that was a conversation for another day.

Then, Lugh pointed to a pen on the table.

"Try to move that."

Lirienne stared at him dubiously, then sighed.

She stood, stretching her hands forward, mentally cycling through the motions. She had done this a hundred times.

’Step One: Focus on the object.’

She fixed her gaze on the pen, her breath slowing.

’Step Two: Clear your mind.’

A full minute passed, maybe more. The silence between each heartbeat grew taut.

’Step Three: Calm yourself. Maintain emotional neutrality.’

She had memorized the steps by heart.

While others might think she’d accepted her mediocrity, the truth was that she practiced day and night, clinging to the hope that something would awaken inside her.

’Step Four: The incantation.’

"The mind moves, the will guides, but the world resists. Respect it or bleed."

She paused. Then,

"Voltus!"

She channeled all her energy into that one word, willing the pen to move.

Nothing. Not even a tremble.

The pen sat motionless, just like everything else she had ever tried to affect.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides. She exhaled sharply, then turned to Lugh with a brittle smile.

"As you can see, I’m unable to lift anything."

"That’s because you’re doing it wrong"

He replied absentmindedly, eyes scanning the manual.

"Doing it wrong?"

Her expression darkened.

She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Her tutors had said the same thing. But she was following their instructions perfectly.

She had hoped Lugh would be different, but now—

"This manual says to command the object to move with willpower."

She exhaled, her mood souring.

"Yes, that’s exactly what I’ve been do—what I’ve been trying to do"

Lugh looked up at her. His voice was flat, almost hollow.

"Command is a brute’s tool."

She blinked.

"Huh?"

"Instead... negotiate."

He closed the book.

"Objects are stubborn. Convince them their rest is over. Promise them movement like you’d promise death—a certainty."

Lirienne stared at him, bewildered.

"You want me to... negotiate? With an object?"

He nodded.

Silence.

How the hell was she supposed to do that?

She was beginning to think Lugh might actually be insane.

Still... something about his tone, or perhaps the sheer difference in his approach, made her want to believe.

It wasn’t just another repetition of someone else’s formula.

"How am I supposed to negotiate with an object?"

Lugh studied her.

Then he spoke.

"Never mind that. You’ll understand in due time. Repeat the steps out loud, and follow my instructions."

"Uh... okay?"

She raised her hands once more, pointing at the pen.

Her tone was steadier this time.

"Step One: Focus on the object."

"Step Two—"

Lugh’s voice slithered into her ears, soft and smooth like silk. Close, yet distant.

"Clear your mind? No..."

She nearly staggered from the shift in tone. But he continued.

"...Let it overflow. Drown in every memory of weight, of mass, of falling things. Let the object remember being lifted. Not by you, but by every hand you’ve ever borrowed."

She nearly held her breath.

"What are you—"

"Focus."

She obeyed, unsure, but willing.

The pen began to vibrate.

Her eyes went wide.

"I did it!"

"Don’t stop."

Lugh’s voice sliced through like a blade.

She gritted her teeth and held on.

The pen clattered louder.

’I need to calm myself’

She thought.

"Step Three: Calm your emotions. Maintain neutrality."

But Lugh’s voice broke in again, cold and contradictory.

"Pull the object, not with force. Pull it with grief. Make it feel the loss of stillness. Make it yearn to move. Use anger if you must. Desire if you’re brave.

But beware. Emotions, like currents, drag more than you ask for."

She inhaled deeply, committing everything to heart.

The pen shook violently now.

And then—

It didn’t move.

It lunged forward, like a starving dog.

Not the pen, but the entire table

"Wait—how—"

Before she could finish the thought, it slammed into her with great speed striking her square in the forehead, the blow was loud and heavy.

Darkness bloomed.

She crumpled to the ground.