Chapter 182. Ice Cream

Adom stared at his reflection in the mirror.

He'd activated [Resonance] a few minutes ago, mostly out of curiosity. He'd used the skill plenty of times now—with Bennu, even just earlier today when he'd accidentally made all those journalists stare at him like he'd grown a second head. But he'd never actually looked at himself while it was active.

He was looking now.

"You look like a human phoenix!" Bennu announced from behind him.

Adom glanced back. All three of them were sitting on his bed—Bennu perched on the headboard with his wings half-spread, Zuni nestled into the pillows looking contemplative, and Ada cross-legged at the foot of the bed with her hands pressed against her cheeks.

"You glow," Ada said, eyes wide. "Like there's fire inside you. Is it warm?"

Adom held out his hand toward her. She reached up and pressed her small palm against his.

"Oh!" Her face lit up. "It is warm! But it doesn't hurt. It feels nice."

"It is rather warm, yes," Zuni observed from his spot on the pillow. "Quite comforting, actually. Like sitting near a hearth on a cold evening."

"Of course it's comforting!" Bennu puffed his chest feathers. "It's a phoenix's fire. Not normal fire at all—it's mana in another form. Pure mana. Aelarion told me that himself."

"Aelarion tells you a lot of things," Adom said absently, turning back to the mirror.

His eyes were the most striking part. The blue in them looked like it had actual fire burning behind the irises—intense, almost liquid, moving the way flames moved when they caught on something and really started to burn. Flowing steady and controlled, like water running through a channel, except it was fire and it shouldn't be doing that at all.

His skin had a faint glow to it. Like there was light under the surface, trying to get out. Not bright enough to illuminate the room or cast shadows, but enough that he could see it clearly in the dim evening light coming through his window. It was stronger in some places—his hands, his forearms, along his chest and collarbone where the Axis concentrated.

And his hair.

Adom leaned closer to the mirror, squinting.

His hair was moving. Not floating around his head like he was underwater or anything ridiculous like that. But it shifted slightly, responding to something that wasn't wind or gravity. Individual strands drifted upward just a fraction, settled back down, drifted up again. Like they were caught in a current only they could feel.

And the white in it was spreading.

He could actually see it happening if he looked closely enough. A few strands that had been black this morning were white now, just at the tips, like someone had dipped them in bleach or paint. As he watched, one strand near his temple seemed to lighten another shade. Barely noticeable, but there.

"Most curious," Zuni murmured.

"Most curious indeed," Adom agreed.

He'd never really taken the time to check this form of his. He'd been too busy using [Resonance] for practical purposes like making his voice carry in a crowded hallway when he needed people to actually listen. He hadn't stopped to think about what it actually looked like. What it meant, beyond the immediate effects.

It was like Bennu said. Like a phoenix pretending to be human.

And the fire was mana. Bennu was right about that. Not normal mana, either—not the kind Adom manipulated every day when he weaved spells. This was... apparently phoenix mana. A specific form he hadn't even realized existed until Bennu mentioned it just now.

"You could probably use it for fighting," Bennu suggested helpfully. "Make yourself look scary. Intimidate your enemies. They'd take one look at you and run away screaming."

"I'm already quite a powerful mage," Adom said, tilting his head to examine the glow along his jawline. "Without being immodest about it. I can hold my ground easily enough when faced with most enemies. I've never thought of using this for fighting."

"Or anything else, really," Zuni added from the bed.

Adom nodded slowly.

He hadn't. [Resonance] had been useful for specific situations, but he'd treated it like a tool with one or two applications. He'd never considered studying it properly. Understanding what it actually did beyond the obvious effects. What it could do if he pushed it.

Phoenixes and their powers weren't known at all. Everything said about them came from legends—half-remembered stories about immortal birds that burned and were reborn, creatures of pure fire and magic that existed outside the normal rules. Stories passed down through generations until nobody knew what was true and what was embellishment. He'd been careful with [Resonance] because he didn't know what he was dealing with. Careful not to push too hard, not to assume too much.

But if he could make a new breakthrough in magic...

He watched another strand of his hair turn white in the mirror. Or whiter. It was hard to tell exactly when one shade became another.

Something that would be useful later. Something that could help when the wars came, when things got bad. When people needed every advantage they could get.

"I need to study this," he said quietly.

"Ooh." Ada bounced on the bed, making Zuni squeak in protest as the mattress shifted under him. "Can I help?"

"You can observe," Adom said, glancing back at her. "And tell me if anything looks different when I'm testing things."

"I can do that!" She scooted forward on her knees, nearly losing her balance. She windmilled her arms dramatically, then grabbed onto the bedpost. "I'm really good at noticing things!"

"You are," Adom agreed.

"I should be the one helping," Bennu declared, spreading his wings wider. "It's my fire, after all. I know how it works. Aelarion explained it to me very thoroughly."

"Our fire," Adom corrected, still staring at his reflection. "Apparently."

The phoenix made a pleased chirping sound and settled his wings back down.

Adom raised one hand, holding it up next to his face in the mirror. The glow was stronger there—concentrated in his palm, tracing up his fingers in thin lines that followed the bones underneath. He could feel the warmth of it. Not burning. Not even uncomfortable. Just... present. Like holding his hand near a candle flame, except the flame was inside him and he was the candle.

He flexed his fingers. The light moved with them, pulsing slightly brighter when his muscles contracted.

Interesting.

"Adom?"

He looked down. Ada had climbed off the bed and was standing next to him now, tugging on his sleeve.

"Yeah?"

"You said you'd spend time with me today." Her voice was small. "You've been really busy with Sam and the healing and all the people and you haven't been around much."

Adom felt a small pang of guilt.

She was right. He'd been so focused on the Celene situation, on managing the journalists and making sure Sam's family was okay, that he'd barely seen Ada in the last few days. She'd been with their father mostly, or playing with Zuni and Bennu, and he'd told himself it was fine because she understood he was busy.

But she was five. She didn't really understand. She just knew her brother wasn't around.

"You're right," he said. "I'm sorry. I should've made more time."

Ada brightened immediately. "So can we do something now? Something fun?"

Adom deactivated [Resonance]. The glow faded from his skin, the fire in his eyes dimmed back to normal blue, and his hair settled down into its usual state. He felt the warmth recede, pulling back into whatever space it occupied when it wasn't active.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Ice cream!" Ada said immediately. "And we can go to the park! It's nice outside and it's not too late yet."

Adom glanced at the window. The sun had set maybe two hour ago, but the park would still be open. There'd be people around—families, couples, probably some students from the Academy enjoying the weather.

"Ice cream sounds good," he said.

Ada squealed and grabbed his hand. "Zuni! Bennu! We're going to get ice cream!"

"Oh, splendid," Zuni said, hopping down from the pillow. "I do enjoy a pleasant evening walk."

"I'm not usually a fan of sweets," Bennu said, fluttering down to Adom's shoulder. "But if we're getting ice cream, can I have strawberry flavor? I do enjoy them from time to time."

"You'll need to transform first," Adom said. "We can't exactly walk through town with a phoenix on my shoulder without drawing even more attention."

Bennu huffed. "Fine, fine."

He fluttered over to the wardrobe and hopped inside.

"Give me a moment," his voice called out, muffled by the wooden doors.

There was a brief flash of golden light seeping through the cracks, and then the wardrobe doors swung open dramatically.

A small boy stepped out, looking like a younger version of Adom. He wore simple clothes that actually fit him properly, clearly picked from Adom's childhood things that were still stored in there.

"Tada!" Bennu announced, spreading his arms with a flourish.

Ada giggled. "You look funny as a person, Bennu."

"I look magnificent in any form, thank you very much."

They made their way downstairs. Their mother was in the sitting room, reading a book by lamplight. She looked up when they passed, her gaze lingering on Bennu for a moment before she smiled knowingly.

"Going somewhere?"

"Ice cream," Ada announced. "And the park. Adom's coming with us."

Maria's expression softened. "That sounds lovely. Don't stay out too late."

"We won't," Adom promised.

The evening air was warm when they stepped outside. Ada skipped ahead, then stopped and waited for Adom to catch up, then skipped ahead again. Zuni rode on Adom's shoulder, his small paws gripping the fabric of Adom's shirt for balance. Bennu walked beside them, his blue eyes darting around curiously at everything—the buildings, the people, the streetlamps just beginning to flicker to life.

They hadn't made it more than two blocks before someone recognized him.

"Magus Sylla!"

Adom turned to see a middle-aged woman approaching, her face lit up with recognition and excitement.

"I just wanted to say congratulations on your breakthrough today," she said breathlessly. "The whole island's been talking about it. What you did for your friend's mother—it's just remarkable. Truly remarkable."

"Thank you," Adom said, trying to keep his voice polite but not encouraging. "I appreciate it."

"My sister was there, you know. At the hospital. She said you were glowing like a phoenix. Is it true you created an entirely new form of healing magic?"

"I... wouldn't put it quite like that."

But the woman was already waving over her husband, who'd been waiting by a shop window. Within moments, a small crowd had started to gather. More people recognizing him. More congratulations. More questions.

Ada tugged on his sleeve, looking confused. "Why is everyone being like this? You're always famous, but this is different."

"The healing earlier," Adom explained quietly. "It was... more public than usual."

"But you heal people all the time!"

"That's mother, not me."

A group of children had noticed them now. Three boys, maybe eight or nine years old, were staring with wide eyes.

"That's the Ghost!" one of them whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"No way," another said. "Really?"

"Look at his hair! It's definitely him!"

Ada's face lit up with pride. She turned to the boys, hands on her hips. "This is my brother!"

The boys' eyes got even wider.

"Your brother is the Ghost?"

"Yes!" Ada said smugly. "He's the best mage in the whole empire. Probably the whole world."

Adom giggled at that.

And the boys were already approaching, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Sir Magus," the tallest one said, trying to sound formal and failing. "Could we... could we have your autograph?"

"My autograph?"

"Please? We've been practicing Krozball because of you. Everyone at school talks about you all the time."

He glanced down at Ada, who was beaming at him. Then at the boys' hopeful faces. Then at the small crowd that had gathered, all watching with interest.

"...Alright," he said finally.

The boys cheered. One of them pulled out a small notebook and a pencil, thrusting them at Adom eagerly. He signed his name—just "Adom Sylla," nothing fancy—and handed it back.

"Thank you, Sir Magus!"

"You're welcome."

More people were approaching now, and through it all, Bennu stood beside him, staring at everything with wide, curious eyes. He kept reaching out to touch things—the fabric of someone's coat, the wood of a nearby fence post, a flower growing in a window box—like he'd never seen any of it before.

Eventually, someone noticed him.

"And who's this?" a woman asked, smiling down at Bennu. "I don't think I've seen you around before, young man."

Bennu looked up at Adom, his expression somewhere between confused and excited about being addressed.

"This is my brother," Adom said smoothly.

The woman blinked. "Your brother? I didn't know you had a brother."

"He's... shy," Adom said, even as Bennu was currently trying to examine the woman's bracelet with intense fascination. "We don't bring him out much."

"What's your name, young man?" the woman asked Bennu directly.

"Bennu!" the boy said brightly, finally looking up from the bracelet. "What's that made of? It's shiny. Is it magic? Can I touch it?"

The woman laughed, charmed. "It's just glass, dear. And yes, you can touch it if you'd like."

"Not shy at all, is he?" another person commented, amused.

Adom sighed. "He has his moments."

More questions came. Where had Bennu been? Why hadn't anyone seen him before? Did he go to school? Was he learning magic too?

Adom deflected as best he could, keeping his answers vague. Bennu, meanwhile, was having the time of his life, asking questions about everything he could see, touching things with careful curiosity, chattering away to anyone who would listen.

"Why do people even wear shoes?" he asked one man. "Don't they make your feet hot?"

"What's that smell?" he asked a baker walking by. "Is that bread? How do you make bread? Can I see?"

"Your eyes are brown," he told a woman. "Why are they brown and not gold? Gold is better."

This reminded Adom he'd have to teach the concept of boundary to the young phoenix.

By the time they finally managed to extract themselves from the crowd and continue toward the ice cream shop, Adom's face hurt from maintaining a polite smile.

"That was exhausting," he muttered.

"That was amazing!" Bennu said, practically bouncing as he walked. "Everyone was so nice! And there were so many things! And—"

"Bennu," Adom said. "Please. Quieter."

"Right. Sorry. But still! It's all so interesting!"

Ada giggled. "You're funny, Bennu."

"I'm magnificent," Bennu corrected automatically, but he was smiling.

The ice cream shop was on the corner near the park entrance. It was busy—there was a line of people waiting at the counter, mostly families with young children. Ada joined the line eagerly, standing on her toes to try and see the flavors in the display case.

"I want chocolate," she declared. "No, wait. Vanilla. No... chocolate."

"You have time to decide," Adom said.

"What are you getting?"

"Haven't thought about it yet."

"You should get the same thing as me so we can share."

"That defeats the purpose of getting the same thing."

Ada frowned, thinking about that. "You're right. Get something different so I can try yours."

Adom shook his head, but he was smiling again.

Bennu was pressed against the display case, staring at all the colors with wide eyes. "What are all these? Why are they so colorful? Is that safe to eat? It looks like it's glowing. Is it supposed to glow?"

"It's ice cream," the shopkeeper said, clearly amused. "First time, son?"

"First time seeing it like this," Bennu said honestly.

When they reached the counter, Ada ordered chocolate, then changed her mind to vanilla at the last second. Adom got coffee flavor. Bennu got strawberry, though he kept asking questions about how they made it cold and why it didn't melt immediately.

The shopkeeper seemed charmed by Bennu's endless curiosity, giving him a generous scoop. "For the curious young man," he said. "On the house."

"See?" Bennu said smugly to Adom. "People appreciate curiosity."

"People think you're entertaining," Adom corrected.

"I am entertaining and magnificent."

Mr. Biggins probably taught him that.

They walked toward the park, Ada licking her ice cream cone carefully to keep it from dripping. Bennu kept stopping to look at things—a cat sitting on a windowsill, a street performer juggling, a couple walking hand in hand—until Adom had to keep pulling him along.

As they entered the park, Ada suddenly gasped. "Look! There's a show!"

She was pointing toward a small crowd gathered near the center of the park, where someone had set up what looked like a makeshift stage. Adom could see colorful lights, hear music and laughter.

"It's Old Jack!" Ada said excitedly. "Can we watch? Please?"

"Alright," Adom said. "We can watch for a bit."

They found a spot near the edge of the crowd. The park was beautiful at this time of evening—the lamps along the pathways had been lit, casting warm pools of light across the grass. Old Jack was in the middle of a card trick, making a queen of hearts disappear and reappear in increasingly unlikely places.

Ada watched with wide eyes, clutching her ice cream. Bennu seemed fascinated too, though he kept muttering things like "that's not real magic" and "I could do that better with actual fire."

"Shh," Adom said. "Just watch."

They stayed for a few minutes, until Ada finished her ice cream and Old Jack finished his current routine. As the crowd applauded and started to disperse, Adom noticed something.

A silhouette. Standing by Law's statue at the far end of the park, facing the bronze figure with their back to the crowd.

An old woman. Sitting on the bench there. Sewing something.

Adom recognized her immediately. It was Magus Beth. The diviner.

"Come on," he said to Ada and Bennu. "Let's walk this way."

"Why?" Ada asked.

"Just... someone I should say hello to."

They made their way across the park, Zuni still perched on Adom's shoulder, Bennu walking beside them with sticky strawberry residue on his fingers. As they got closer, Adom could hear Beth's voice, soft and distant, talking to herself.

Or not to herself.

"Goodbye, little bird," she said quietly. "Fly safe."

Adom paused. Looked around. There was no bird. Nothing that could explain who she was talking to.

Then Beth turned around, and her eyes—clouded with age but still sharp in their own way—fixed on him immediately.

"Oh," she said, smiling. "Hello, Adom."

Adom blinked. Recovered. "Ah. Hey, Beth."

He was confused about why she'd been talking to empty air, but then again, she was a diviner. Who knew what she could see that others couldn't?

"Out for a walk?" Beth asked pleasantly, her gaze shifting to Ada, then to Bennu, then to Zuni. "With your whole little army, I see."

"Ice cream," Ada explained, holding up her sticky hands as evidence. "And the park."

"How lovely," Beth said. She looked at Bennu for a long moment. "And who's this?"

"My brother," Adom said, keeping his voice level.

"Your brother," Beth repeated. Her smile widened slightly. "Of course. How nice to meet you, Brother of Adom."

Bennu, for once, seemed uncertain. He stepped closer to Adom, his usual confidence dimmed. "...Hello."

Beth's eyes lingered on him for another moment, then returned to Adom. "You've had quite the day, I hear."

"News travels fast."

"It does when you make miracles in front of half the town." She gestured to the bench. "Sit, if you'd like. Rest those tired feet."

Adom hesitated, then sat. Ada climbed up next to him, swinging her legs. Bennu remained standing, looking at Beth with open curiosity.

Beth smiled warmly at them. "And what are your names, dears?"

"I'm Ada!" Ada said brightly. "And this is Bennu. He's Adom's brother. Well, sort of. It's complicated."

"Most interesting things are," Beth said, her eyes twinkling. She looked at Bennu. "A pleasure to meet you both."

"Who are you?" Bennu asked bluntly.

Beth laughed, a warm, crackling sound. "A friend of your brother's. From work, you might say."

Ada's eyes widened. "You're really old to be Adom's friend from work!"

"Ada." Adom said shaply.

But Beth laughed harder, her shoulders shaking. "Why do you chastise them, Adom? They speak truth. One should not take offense at truth-telling, especially when being old is no offense at all. I am old. Wonderfully, gloriously old. I've earned every wrinkle and gray hair."

Ada giggled. Adom felt his ears heat up.

Beth went back to her sewing, her needles clicking softly in the evening air. Ada leaned forward, watching with interest.

"What are you sewing?" she asked.

"A flag, dear."

"What sort of flag?" Bennu asked, stepping closer to peer at the fabric.

Beth paused, considering. "I haven't given it a name yet. But I will, eventually. When it's done. When I am certain of what it's meant to become." She smiled. "Some things reveal themselves in their own time."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the sounds of the park. The fountain. The distant laughter. The rustle of leaves in the warm evening breeze.

Then Beth looked up, her gaze fixing on Adom.

"Tell me, are you curious about divination?"

The question caught Adom completely off guard. He blinked, opened his mouth, closed it again. Wasn't sure what to say.

Beth laughed softly. "Gaius told me already, you know. That you'd been asking. That you were considering it."

Adom's mind raced. He remembered now, weeks ago, Gaius told him Beth had offered to teach him. Had said she wanted him as a student. He'd been uncertain then, too busy with everything else. But now...

Of all the magi he'd met, Beth was the hardest for him to understand. To discern. She always seemed to know things others didn't. And she did, even his fight with Magus Nox, she'd hinted at the outcome before it happened.

Magic was an incredibly vast field, and one could spend a lifetime or more studying just one discipline. As such, Adom didn't know much about divination. He'd tried it a few times, but never could predict anything further than a few seconds ahead, and that took intense focus and time. Not ideal at all, might as well just wait for the second to arrive and know what happened.

So he didn't know much about divination, but he knew enough to know that no one could predict even a day in advance with any real accuracy.

Unless one was Beth Salazar.

The greatest diviner in the known world, who could predict with more than seventy percent accuracy an event up to three days before it happened. She was a natural genius, and like all natural geniuses, could never quite explain how she did it. Which made learning from her both fascinating and potentially frustrating.

But still. The path to [True Archmage] required mastery across all disciplines. He was already stretched thin, true. But divination with Beth—someone who clearly saw more than most—could be invaluable.

"I..." he started carefully. "I would be honored to learn from you. If the offer still stands."

Beth's smile widened. "Good. Then we begin now."

Adom was still processing that, still forming a response, when suddenly his mind went blank.

Not blank like forgetting something. Blank like someone had reached in and erased every thought, every notion, every scrap of awareness except—

"What?" he managed, blinking hard.

Beth's eyes were fixed on him, sharp despite their cloudiness. Intent.

"Your first lesson," she said calmly. "We begin now, boy."