Chapter 290 Ava: Imbalance

"You're really bad at taking care of yourself, aren't you?"

The little bit of life I'd managed to bring back to the forest is already dwindling, but the spirit—Grimoire, I'm pretty sure—is floating in the air when I open my eyes, lying on their side with their head propped on their hand.

"Excuse me?" What a welcome.

"Not eating. Don't even notice you have a fever. Wild magic inside of you." They shake their head. "You'll implode at this rate."

A fever? My forehead feels cool to touch. "I don't have a fever."

"Your hand is as hot as your—never mind. Not my problem if humans want to kill themselves." They roll over, presenting their back to me.

"What do you mean by wild magic? And why would I implode?"

The spirit waves their hand dismissively, not even bothering to look at me. Their indifference is frustrating.

Last time, they spoke with me after I connected with the magic hidden here.

Fine. If that's what it takes to get answers, I'll try again.

Once I focus, the hidden magic pulses beneath the lake, calling my attention.

I touch my forehead discreetly. It feels cool to me, but the spirit's words nag at the back of my mind. Could I really have a fever?

Pushing the thought aside, I concentrate on the magic thrumming beneath the water, the faintest whisper of it grazing the land. Reaching out with my senses, I try to coax it to life once more.

At first, nothing happens. The forest remains silent, the air still. But then, slowly, I feel a warmth spreading from my fingertips. It travels up my arms, settling in my chest before radiating outward.

The golden glow returns, seeping from my hands into the ground. It spreads like veins through the earth, bringing color and vitality.

of my body. There's a strange heat building inside me, different from the warmth of the magic. It's

To my surprise, they're hovering closer now, their ethereal

they muse. "You're more persistent than I

this mean you'll answer my

spirit tilts their head, regarding me with those unfathomable eyes. "Perhaps. Though I wonder if you're asking the

frustrated sigh. Why can't magical beings ever give straight answers? Is it

It's just

my thoughts. "Okay, then what should I be

start with why you're here?" They gesture to the revitalized forest around us. "You

still learning. My teacher—I was separated from my teacher. I'm on my own right

you pay attention. That's the problem with you humans. Never paying attention. There are no ornate rules to magic. Do you need lessons to

a little different from

doesn't feel that way

they're a spirit, and I'm a

lot of sass in your head

keep my thoughts out

trying to control, and therein lies the danger. Wild magic, untamed and uncontrolled, is a force of

say consume—I was told I needed a teacher so I wouldn't kill myself and everyone around

quite a bit, hasn't it?" They're rotating in the air, spinning slowly until they're upside

world around you, but you're not giving anything back. It's like trying to fill a cup with a hole in the bottom. Eventually, the pressure

mind flashes back. They'd mentioned witches gave back. Is this

"Yes."

how do wizards control

with an otherworldly light as they consider my question. Their body continues to rotate slowly in the air, defying gravity in a way that makes my head spin if I focus on

they begin, their voice taking on a slightly mocking tone, "they think they're so clever. They've found a way to cheat

forward, eager to understand. "What do you

funnel that excess energy into these constructs. Imagine a pot of boiling water. Instead of turning down the heat, they just keep

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