Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 155: Grace: Arcana (II)

"It’s... moving," I say, surprised. "I can feel it traveling up my arms."

"Good," Lyre says. "That’s the arcana being absorbed. Can you see its path?"

I concentrate harder, focusing on the sensation rather than trying to visualize anything. And then—

"Oh!"

There it is. Not golden threads this time, but something more like... streams? Veins filled with liquid light pulsing up from my palms, branching through my arms. They’re not as distinct as what I saw with Caine, more like impressions of light beneath my skin.

Wait. I can see my arms. They’re definitely my arms; I know it down to the marrow in my bones. But it doesn’t look like my arms. If anything, it’s similar to the faint outline of light when I’d "seen" our hands last night...

"I can see it," I breathe. "Not like before. It’s faint. But it looks like little rivers under my skin."

"That’s because you’re absorbing it directly. What you saw with Caine was arcana in transit—energy moving between bodies, through structured channels. This is arcana becoming part of you."

If only I could really understand what Lyre’s saying. Again, it isn’t as if the words are foreign, but the concept seems beyond what I can truly wrap my mind around.

The light spreads further, tiny rivulets reaching my elbows, my biceps, creeping toward my shoulders. It feels... good. Like a shot of caffeine without the jitters, or the satisfaction of stretching after sitting too long. My body hums with it.

"This feels different than with Caine," I say, my eyes still closed, tracking the progress of the light.

"I imagine it would." There’s a smirk in her voice. "Arcana expression varies widely based on the source and the... circumstances."

My cheeks heat again. "That’s not what I meant."

already refined. What flows between you and Caine is wild, coming straight from your source. Both are valid

can feel it spreading outward from my sternum, little branches of warmth extending between my ribs. It feels like my entire torso is filling

everywhere," I murmur. "Is it supposed

lasts a beat

"Lyre?"

"Open your eyes, Grace."

my palms has shrunk to half its original size, but what

I ask,

but her tone suggests something unexpected is happening. "You’re absorbing it much faster than you should be able to. Most beginners take hours to process that much arcana.

down at the diminished ball of light.

studying me with those unnerving slitted eyes. "You’re

makes me uncomfortable, like I’ve been caught doing something

It’s not a criticism. If anything, it’s good for you. Of course, had I known earlier... well, never

focus on the remaining light, and this time, instead of just observing, I find myself wanting to pull it in faster. The warmth is addictive, the feeling of strength and lightness

flowing into my palms like water down a drain. Ten

"Impressive," Lyre says.

thrums through me, making me feel jittery, powerful. I flex my fingers, half expecting sparks to fly from

what? Do I... do

It will disperse

leans forward and rubs my

washes through me, like liquid sunshine spreading from the crown

my exasperation cutting through the pleasant feeling. "Could you not treat me

slitted eyes studying me