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"You should probably see if you can integrate it into the spell," Macati said, tearing the bread in two and  handing Guylian a chunk. "And incorporate the voice spell, too."

"But it's your spell," Guylian protested, toying with his bread.

"I'm not that attached to it," Macati said. "I'd rather see what you make of it."

Guylian flushed a little, but didn't offer any further protest. Instead he turned to Kysera. "Would you like a  friend?"

Kysera pointed at Guylian, cooing softly. Macati bit his lip, but he couldn't help but laugh when he saw the  look on Guylian's face.

"Someone your size, who can fly," Guylian said, smiling a little. Kysera tilted his head at Guylian, looking  intently thoughtful. Finally he nodded, chirping softly.

"That can be your next project after the garden is done," Macati decided. Kysera chirped in satisfaction,  wandering over to peer curiously at the apples. Guylian nodded in agreement, smiling a little as he settled  in to eat his breakfast.

*\^/*

Macati wandered into town around noon. He was covered in dirt and incredibly grimy, but he'd shown up  in town looking worse. Heading straight for the bakery, Macati let himself in, his eyes widening as he took  in the state of the shop.

It was a mess—not unusual—but what was unusual was the smell of burnt bread and the half-empty  shelves. The shop was also completely empty.

Confused and a little concerned, Macati headed deeper into the bakery, letting himself into the room that  housed the oven.

It was empty as well, and Macati paused to rescue three loaves of bread from the oven that were looking
(and smelling) rather over-cooked. He headed back into the main room, wondering if he should look for
Werin and Carill upstairs, but Werin saved him the dilemma by stumbling in.

He looked terrible—his eyes were bloodshot and there was a thin coat of flour covering him from hair to  shoes.

"Macati!" Werin greeted, but it lacked some of his usual enthusiasm. "What brings you here?"

"The usual," Macati said slowly. "Is everything all right, Werin? Where's Carill?"

"She's sick," Werin said mournfully, and that explained everything. "She's got that awful flu—and it is  awful, Macati."

Macati winced, pausing a moment to hope he and Guylian were spared. "Is there anything I can do?"
Macati asked, but Werin shook his head sadly.

"It just has to run its course," Werin admitted, looking over the messy, half-stocked shop and heaving a  gusty sigh.
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"You should shut down for the day," Macati said, frowning. "You'll feel better if you can take care of her  without worrying about the store. And I'm sure Carill will feel better if she doesn't have to worry about the  business—and you know she is."

"She is," Werin agreed, looking thoughtful. "You're right, Macati! I shall close the shop and nurse the wife  back to health!"

"Good," Macati said, smiling. "Good luck, and tell Carill that I hope she feels better quickly."

"I shall pass on your message," Werin promised solemnly. "Thank you, Macati."

"You're welcome," Macati said, letting himself out of the shop with a last wave to Werin. Heading down  the road, he decided a quick stop at the greengrocers would hold them over for the few days it would take
Carill to recover from the flu. He was nearly to Fenral's shop when Tlory fell into step beside him.

"Where's your latest little shadow?" Tlory asked, looking around curiously. "Leave him at home?"

"None of your business," Macati said coolly, walking on without pausing. Unfortunately, Tlory didn't take  the hint and followed.

"Wherever did you find him, Macati?" Tlory asked, smirking. He looked rather smug, like a cat who'd  caught the canary, and Macati wondered wearily what Tlory was up to now. He'd have to warn Guylian to  be careful. Again.

"What do you want, Tlory?" Macati asked, stopping his tracks and turning to face Tlory squarely.

Tlory had grown since he'd apprenticed with Macati—he was a few inches taller than Macati now. His hair  was longer too, and he'd grown into his awkward jumble of limbs nicely. Probably the added height had  helped with that.

He still wasn't as pretty as Guylian, Macati's traitorous mind informed him. Never mind that Tlory was  plenty handsome in his own right.

"Is it wrong of me to be curious?" Tlory asked, affecting a hurt look. "I just want to know what's so special  about him that you broke your vow to not take on another apprentice. Especially since he doesn't even like  you."

Macati glared, annoyed all over again. Where did Tlory get off saying that? He didn't know Guylian at all—  he'd barely talked to Guylian for five minutes.

"He told me so," Tlory said casually, that damnable smirk still in place. Macati scowled, wishing he had an  effective means of getting that look off Tlory's face—the only thing he'd ever been able to do was give
Tlory more work when he was an apprentice.

"You're a terrible liar," Macati said, even if that wasn't true—Tlory was an excellent liar; that was one of the  reasons Macati had taught him for six months before realizing Tlory's true interest wasn't in magic.

"You want to know why I took him on? He's smart. He loves magic. And he's not interested in using  magic for his own personal gain," Macati hissed, keeping his voice low. He might not like Tlory, but he  wasn't going to air their grievances loudly in the center of town.

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Tlory took a step back, his mouth tightening angrily. "That's not fair," Tlory said sharply, smirk replaced by  a fierce glower. "That's not even close to true, but I suppose that doesn't matter, does it? You've got your  little mouse of an apprentice. For now, anyway. I can't wait to see his reaction when you decide he's not  good enough to be your student either."

Tlory turned and stalked away, heading back down the street towards the tavern. Macati sighed, watching  him go and trying to not regret drumming Tlory out of his apprenticeship. But that was the least of what
Macati could have done—Tlory could have faced much worse if Macati let anyone else know what he'd  been trying to do.

Turning away, Macati headed for the greengrocer's and tried not to think about Tlory's words—he  wouldn't toss Guylian out. Guylian wasn't Tlory and it wasn't like he'd thrown out his first two apprentices.

*\^/*

Guylian didn't get out of bed until late morning. It was rare, the days that Macati didn't come wake him up,  but Macati had said that today would be a day off for both of them. Though what that meant, Guylian  wasn't sure.

Yawning, Guylian contemplated rolling over and going back to sleep, but he decided against it when his  stomach gurgled loudly. Climbing out of bed slowly, Guylian smiled as Kysera tumbled out of one of the  ceiling windows to land on his shoulder.

Pulling on fresh clothes didn't take long, though Kysera complained when he changed his shirt and  dislodged him. Heading downstairs, Guylian hesitated when he reached the kitchen. There was no sign of
Macati, no breakfast waiting or being cooked.

Probably Macati was taking advantage of the day off to sleep in for once. They'd only finished the garden  yesterday, so he was probably sleeping it off.

Guylian hesitated before his stomach convinced him that he could at least make tea without burning down  the house or something worse. Taking down the tea kettle carefully, Guylian murmured the spell to start a  fire burning in the stove.

He found some fruit and pastries in the pantry, noting with a bit of resignation that they'd probably need  to go shopping for provisions tomorrow. Which reminded him that tomorrow he'd be doing casting on his  own. He'd nearly forgotten, between the work on Nella's garden and crying like a little girl in Macati's  garden.

The kettle whistled and Guylian stumbled out of the pantry, setting down the apples and pastries before  removing the kettle from the heat. It continued to whistle half-heartedly for a moment before going silent.
Guylian dropped a few tea leaves into the pot and then added the hot water, concentrating so that he  didn't spill.

He could spend today creating another pixie to keep Kysera company. That would keep him distracted  from tomorrow, even if it probably wasn't what Macati had meant when he'd said day off. But what else  could he do with a day off? He didn't want to go into town and he liked doing magic.

Kysera chirped suddenly, tumbling off his shoulder and taking flight. Guylian blinked, confused until
Kysera landed next to the tea cups and saucers lined up neatly in the open cabinet that held the dishes.

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"Oh, don't," Guylian began, but too late—Kysera had already picked up a tea cup by its handle and was  attempting to carry it back to the table, his wings beating laboriously.

Guylian winced, unsure whether Kysera could get it all the way to the table or if he should try to rescue the  cup before Kysera dropped it.

The decision was taken away from him as the tea cup abruptly slipped from Kysera's grasp to shatter  against the floor. Kysera went tumbling through the air, the sudden lack of weight throwing him off.
Guylian covered his eyes, flushing guiltily. Macati was… well, he might get mad. Or he might think it was  funny.

But maybe Guylian could fix it before Macati woke up.

Kysera made a soft, mournful noise, flying at Guylian and curling up on Guylian's shoulder.

"It's okay," Guylian murmured, crossing the room slowly to the broken cup. He risked a glance towards  the hallway and Macati's bedroom, but Macati was nowhere in sight.

It was a ceramic cup, so a mineral base. Guylian knelt down carefully, avoiding the scattered pieces. The  shards of cup weren't too small, thankfully, and Guylian slowly gathered them together. Once he had them  together in small pile, he spoke a healing spell, similar to the one he'd used on Nella's plants, but  substituting the plant base for a mineral base.

When he was done, the cup was whole… but the handle was upside down and the pattern around the rim  was completely off. Guylian frowned, studying the cup intently. It was whole and seamless, in the right  shape except for the handle.

Hopefully Macati wouldn't be too upset, since there wasn't anything he could think of to make it better.
Breaking the cup and repairing it again would probably make the pattern worse.

"Did something break?" Macati asked from behind him. Guylian jumped, startled, and nearly dropped the  cup again.

"A cup," Guylian admitted, flushing guiltily as he stood up and turned around.

Only to discover Macati hadn't gotten properly dressed—he was just wearing a loose shirt and a pair of old  pants. He looked tired, too, and Guylian couldn't ever remember Macati looking tired before.

"Tea cup?" Macati asked, before focusing on the cup Guylian was still holding. He didn't sound very awake  either… but he also sounded congested, which wasn't good.

"I tried to fix it," Guylian said, wondering what he should do. Maybe Macati just had allergies, even if he'd  never suffered them before.

Macati stepped into the kitchen, peering curiously at the cup. Guylian ducked his head, his face getting  warmer as Macati took the cup from him. Macati studied it for a long moment, a wide smile stretching his  mouth the longer he looked.

"You tried to modify the healing spell, didn't you?" Macati asked.

"Yes," Guylian said, and Kysera chirped in agreement before burrowing further into the fabric of Guylian's  shirt.
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"Why do I think he had something to do with this?" Macati asked, sniffling quietly as he shuffled over to  the table.

"He was trying to help," Guylian said, wondering if Macati could fix it properly.

"Hmm," Macati said, looking thoughtful. "How do you feel about a lesson? I can wait until tomorrow—"

"No, today's okay," Guylian interrupted. He blushed, but didn't take it back—he was curious. Macati  laughed quietly, but the laugh turned into a harsh cough. Guylian winced, hoping that whatever Macati was  sick with didn't get any worse; he didn't know how to take care of sick people. Macati made a face,  standing up and fetching a pair of tea cups.

"Are you okay?" Guylian asked hesitantly as Macati sat down.

"I'll be fine," Macati said, not quite answering the question. "Have you ever seen a null spell?"

"A null spell?" Guylian asked curiously.

"Mmhmm," Macati said, pouring them both cups of tea. He swallowed a large gulp before focusing on the  mangled tea cup. "Removes spells and clears out dangling spells."

"You can do that?" Guylian asked, startled. That was… that could be very useful.

"Yes," Macati confirmed, smiling. "It's a baseless spell, which is pretty advanced magic. You can have it  focus on either a specific, completed spell or on any unfinished spell."

Guylian nodded wordlessly. If he'd known… but it wouldn't have done him any good at the time, since he  hadn't realized that he had the ability to cast spells by speaking Civomic.

"Guylian?" Macati drew his attention, looking confused. Then he sneezed.

"So you're going to undo my spell?" Guylian guessed, focusing on the tea cup instead of Macati's  confusion. Or sneezing.

"Right," Macati said, taking a more sedate sip of his tea before beginning the null spell. He spoke slowly, as  usual, and Guylian listened intently. It was a long spell, very complicated, and Macati's voice grew  progressively hoarse as he spoke. The tea cup obligingly fell to pieces when he finished and Macati  coughed harshly for a minute before swallowing the rest of his tea.

"You don't sound okay," Guylian said quietly, frowning at the pieces of the tea cup. Macati sighed,  coughing again.

"It sounds worse than it is," Macati said, wincing when his voice still came out hoarse and almost non-  existent.

"It sounds bad," Guylian said, peering at Macati curiously. He left it at that though. Macati wasn't his to  babysit—he was Macati's apprentice, not his mother. Macati rolled his eyes, but he was smiling a little as he  carefully pushed the tea cup fragments into a neat little pile.

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