I cleaned up something I wrote on the side when my beta took too long to get back to me:
(Color hexcodes are E0D05F and 02D2FF.)
Girl Talk and Meteor Spells. Or "an inexperienced sorceress gets a traumatized black mage to help her control her powers."
"You're pretty good with magic," Rinoa suddenly says, and Croma tears her thoughts back towards the other mage, "Where did you learn it?"
A little flutter of something shines in her heart for a brief moment. "I got basic instruction from classes and school," Croma answers, then quiets as her mind starts grasping at the echo of memories, like trying to piece together a window from fragments of shattered glass. "And…"
The power of darkness swirls in her mind, caressing her like an old friend. Her will weaves with it, and the shards rearrange, welding together like a tapestry of stained glass. Gloved hands, gently closed around her fist as she raises a practice wand. Her face buried in midnight blue robes. The impression of a warm voice, sometimes stern, sometimes gentle, sometimes proud.
Good! Just like that. Now, your dad knows black magic the best, so that's what I'll be teaching you.
The words never matter—what does is the emotion to draw magic to you, and the intent to focus it to your will. But for now, just repeat after me.
"… Dad taught me what he could, and then…" I spent years wandering labyrinths on my own, training and rebuilding my power after the Guardian Beast I pledged my service to had ripped it away…
Croma tightens her grip on her staff as the feeling of iron claws weighs down on her skin. Phantom pain squeezes her chest, crushing her ribs, forcing the air out her lungs. And in her mind's eye, she could see the final seal on her memories still awaiting her as the tenebreous power gives it shape. Beckoning her. Terrifying her.
Angelo snorts. And then a gentle weight presses against her arm as Rinoa's dog drops her head onto Croma's hands. Obligingly, Croma takes the distraction for what it is and gives Angelo some well-deserved scratches along her jaw. Breathe. Just breathe.
"Croma? Are you alright?"
Croma looks up—maybe a little too quickly. The other mage was looking at her with concern clear on her expression. Impulsively, Croma ducks her head and tugs the brim of her hat down to shroud her face in shadow. "Yeah. I'm fine."
"We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to, okay?"
"I said I'm fine!" Croma snaps, and Rinoa recoils, eyes widening. From her lap, Angelo starts and gives a pained whine, and Croma uncurls the hand she had inadvertently gripped the poor dog's fur with. Angelo shoves her nose against her hand afterwards, though, so she exhales through her teeth, then shakes her head. What's wrong with me? I shouldn't have acted like that. Get it together. "... Sorry. I've been more temperamental than I usually am, lately. Magic is… I like magic. If you need to ask me something, go ahead."
At least, Rinoa lets the subject go, despite her doubtful expression. She slowly nods and sits back, turning her gaze skywards as she thinks. And as she does, flickers of darkness swirl around her, resolving into the the memory seal in the other mage's mind. The power of memory starts tugging on Croma like an unseen wind, though it abides as she calls the pool of dark power back into the depths of her soul.
There was a sneeze, and Croma jumps slightly before looking back towards the dog in her lap. Angelo looks up at her with… Calculating eyes, sniffing at her. Rinoa sits up again, glancing at her dog with a bemused expression before she breaks their silence: "So… Back to the topic, you just learned magic like you would math or history?"
Huh? Croma blinks and gives Rinoa a quizzical look, though the other mage's expression seemed earnest as she leans forward. Angelo chooses that time to snort again, and then drops her head back onto Croma's hand, prompting her to resume her scratches.
"… Yes...?" Croma answers. So… What if I did? Didn't you?
Evidently, her bewilderment must have shown, as Rinoa squints at her, an odd displeasure ripping across her expression, then asks, "… What's that look on your face supposed to mean?"
"… I don't understand what you're asking me." I... I hope I didn't say anything wrong.
"I thought it's obvious," Rinoa says, in a tone that was not quite a grumble but definitely disappointed, "I'm asking for tips on how to use magic."
Wait. How to… Use magic? Like casting? Like what you've been doing this entire time?
"Can you stop staring at me like I grew a second head?" Rinoa grumbles, "I don't know how to wave my hands and just have something happen. So? That's pretty normal, right?"
Angelo whines and gets up, trotting back to Rinoa's side as she scowls. Angelo drops by her side, and Rinoa throws an arm around her dog and pulls her closer in a hug, leaving Croma to twist her staff in her hands uncomfortably. No... But… That isn't something I can do either… Aren't you already leagues ahead of me, just judging from just how powerful the spells you can throw out are? She pulls at the brim of her hat, the unmistakable feeling that she had misunderstood the situation rising in her.
"Okay, well, I do know how to wave my hands and usually something I want happens, fine," Rinoa huffs, and crosses her arms. "I've learned how to pop wings out of my back, fine. I can use junctioned spells without disrupting my junctions, fine."
Rinoa makes an irritated noise that even gets Angelo to looks up at her mistress, a whine sounding from the back of her throat. But still, Rinoa simply keeps talking: "But how are you just… Zip-zap-zooping all around the place? How do you create an explosion that big but not shatter a single window? How do you make your Firaga split apart like that? How do you just… Cast magic, without a GF, without anything?"
Uncertainty floods Croma, and she tightens the grip of her staff as she tries to draw some sort of answer to Rinoa's question. Hesitantly, she offers: "… Practice?"
That was evidently not the right thing to say, given how Rinoa looks straight at her, then says in an incredibly flat voice: "Not the point."
But I saw you channel enough magic to melt stone. You can augment yourself directly with those wings. You can conjure gods and use spells I've never even heard about before… I… Guess that doesn't mean much. Croma's thoughts tangle together in her mind, and she simply finds herself apologizing with a quiet: "… Sorry."
"… That's alright. I just... Must sound really dumb to you," Rinoa says gruffly. She gives a long sigh after she speaks, and then plops back, staring into the empty sky.
"Not really. I'm more confused than anything," Croma answers automatically, then stiffens. Is… That something I should say? Is that what she's looking for?
If it wasn't, Rinoa doesn't give any sign of it as she grunts in acknowledgement. A few seconds pass, and Angelo takes the opportunity to pad forward and kiss her mistress before settling down next to her. Croma twists a strand of her hair as the uncomfortable silence continues.
Finally, Rinoa says, without preamble: "I can cast magic, sure. But when it comes to actually doing stuff, I'm really just working with what I figured out by myself, and," Rinoa hesitates for a moment, then murmurs her next words with a weighty somberness, "And… I'm always afraid that I might break something in a way that I can't fix." She sits up, then drapes herself across Angelo in a hug as she finishes, half-burying her face in her dog's fur.
Croma's heart gives a lurch in sympathy. "And that's why you wanted to ask me about magic?" Croma ventures. Rinoa simply nods, staring out from Angelo's fur. Oh. I guess… She has a lot of raw power? And can naturally channel magic far more effectively than anyone I've ever met before, save Enna Kros. But she's never been taught anything?
"I guess what I really want is… To control it," Rinoa finally says, "My magic. Just, make sure that whenever I throw a Meltdown, I'm going to melt the behemoth and not the walls of the building some poor guy is hiding in."
"Oh, control." I guess something happened and she found out she was a powerful mage by coincidence. Maybe the Upheaval? And if she's self-taught and mainly focused on using it to defend herself against monsters, it makes sense if she isn't too confident about how she uses it outside of battle. Croma nods, mostly to herself as she adjusts the thoughts—the assumptions she had made about the other mage. Out loud, she then asks: "Is that all?"
As soon as the question leaves Croma's mouth, Rinoa sits up, tilting her head slightly as she gives Croma an appraising look. Her expression then blooms into a bright smile, a concerning sparkle glinting in Rinoa's eyes as she asks, "Is that an offer?"
... Should I be worried? Or maybe if I don't respond, she'll forget about whatever thought she's having in her head. The thought gets dismissed as soon as it bubbles into her mind. No. I doubt that. Instead, Croma carefully asks: "What do you mean?"
"I mean… I was just wondering, if you know so much about magic, can you teach me the ropes?" Rinoa asks, and her eyes shine as she grins, "And that teleportation trick you have? That'll be really handy to know for me, too. So if you're offering... Well, I don't have to ask!"
What makes you think you should trust me to do that? I didn't even realize that you had no formal training. "Uh, sure," Croma answers, hesitantly, "But—
"Great!" Rinoa cheers, then tilts her head to flash another, wider grin to Croma from below the brim of her hat, "I'm thinking we should get to work after our shopping trip. Girls like us should get some time to relax before getting to business, don't you think?"
Whatever else Croma was contemplating blanks from her mind as soon as "our shopping trip" manages to blaze its way in white across her brain. "Wait, what shopping trip?"
"Well~, I've decided to take you shopping."
"Absolutely not!"
And the grin splits Rinoa's face as she starts guffawing.
