As part of the discipline and security team, Cior was once again thrust into a situation that required both curiosity and caution. This time, she was paired with Amaias to investigate a strange case involving mysterious tattoos appearing on certain students.
They entered a dimly lit room, where five boys stood, waiting for instructions.
"Where do you have tattoos?" Cior asked, eyeing them critically.
"On our bellies," one of the boys replied.
"Hey, can you just help me check their tattoos and collect their mana? I'm not interested in seeing their half-naked bodies," Cior said dramatically, crossing her arms and turning away slightly.
Amaias raised an eyebrow. "You're a boy yourself; you have the same type of body."
"Exactly! That's why it's awkward for me," Cior said, making a face. "You do the dirty work, and I'll handle the lab work."
Amaias sighed. "Such a..."
"Shhhh," Cior interrupted, holding up a hand.
"But what do you need the mana for? It could be contagious, maybe related to black magic," Amaias questioned.
"I can determine the age and species of the caster from the mana," Cior explained, a glint of excitement in her eyes.
Amaias looked at her, impressed. "You're full of mysteries."
Cior smirked. "Wouldn't be any fun if I wasn't."
As Amaias reluctantly stepped forward to help the boys, Cior settled into her role, ready to analyze the mana they collected. The boys' discomfort with the situation was evident, but it didn't faze her. After all, this was just another day of uncovering secrets.
Amaias knocked on the lab door, but there was no answer from Cior.
"Hey, Cior, are you there?" he called, his voice tinged with concern. When silence greeted him, he pushed the door open, only to be hit with a strange, thick gas that filled the room. Panic surged through him as he saw Cior lying unconscious, her body limp on the lab floor.
Without hesitation, he rushed in and carefully lifted her out of the room. "Hey, Cior, answer me!" he said desperately, shaking her slightly, but she remained unresponsive. His heart raced as he realized the severity of the situation.
In a panic, he placed his hands on her chest to start CPR, bending down to perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. After a few tense moments, Cior's chest rose, and she began to cough, slowly waking up.
"Ah... sorry to worry you..." Cior said weakly, still coughing from the gas that had affected her.
Amaias let out a breath of relief, pulling her into a tight hug. "You had me worried sick," he muttered, his voice soft but strained from the fear.
Cior smiled, slightly dazed but now conscious. "I'm okay, don't worry. It was just a little incident... nothing to be concerned about."
Amaias held her for a moment longer, then pulled back, eyes scanning her face for any signs of further distress. "You sure you're okay? What happened in there?"
Cior shrugged lightly, the corner of her mouth turning up into a small, apologetic smile. "I think I might've inhaled a bit too much of that gas while working with the mana. Should've been more careful."
Amaias shook his head. "You need to be more careful, Cior. We don't need any more accidents like that."
Cior nodded, grateful for his concern, though her mind was already drifting back to her work.
"I will stay with you now because you're too careless," Amaias said, his voice firm but filled with concern.
"Okay, okay," Cior replied, rolling her eyes but secretly grateful for his care.
"So, what did you find out?" Amaias asked, leaning in, eager for answers.
Cior adjusted herself on the bed and began to explain, her voice focused. "There are two people behind this. One is about 15 years old, and they're a shapeshifter. The other is 40, a human. It's all tied to black magic, and it's contagious."
Amaias raised an eyebrow. "How did you figure that out?"
Cior grinned, clearly proud of her method. "Easy peasy. Each species has a different mana color. I combined the mana of all four species, mixed it, and then evaporized it. The mana from the different species remained, and I used the principle that forces that are the same repel, and forces that are different attract. That's how I figured out the species. As for age, the mana's color becomes lighter with age, so I compared the resulting mana with mana samples of different ages."
Amaias looked at her with admiration. "You're a genius. But how can we find the culprit?"
"I can track them," Cior said, her expression serious. "But I need at least five days to trace their mana properly. Once I start, it will be easier to pinpoint them."
"Five days, huh?" Amaias muttered, looking thoughtful. "That's a lot of time, but I guess it's worth it."
Cior nodded. "I'll need complete focus, and no distractions. We can't afford to mess this up."
"Don't worry, I'll keep watch," Amaias said, sitting down beside her with a determined look. "Just promise me you'll take it easy for a while. No more falling unconscious."
Cior gave a half-smile, though there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. "I'll try, but no promises."
Cior was so absorbed in her work that she often forgot about basic things like breakfast or even food. She was focused on the task at hand, trying to track the mana and solve the mystery. But this time, Amaias had had enough.
"You'll die like this," he said, looking at her with a stern expression.
"No, no, I'm about to complete it," Cior insisted, barely even noticing how long she'd been working without taking a break.
Amaias didn't listen to her. He just walked over to her, gently lifted her out of her chair, and carried her toward her room.
"You need rest," he said, his tone softening as he carried her, clearly concerned.
"Hey, people will misunderstand! Please, I can walk! I'll go and rest," Cior protested, her face turning red in embarrassment as she realized the situation.
"I don't believe you," Amaias said with a smirk, clearly unconvinced by her insistence.
Cior squirmed a little, her embarrassment growing. "Look at Arven! How is he staring at us? This is so awkward!" She raised her hands to her face, hoping to hide her blush.
Amaias just laughed softly, ignoring her protests. They reached her room, and Amaias opened the door, carefully entering. He was about to lay her down on the bed when, of course, something unexpected happened—he slipped. Both of them fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, creating an awkward sandwich-like scene.
"Sorry," Amaias said quickly, his face turning as red as hers. He scrambled to get up, his movements flustered as he rushed to get away from the bed.
Cior, still lying there, her heart racing, simply muttered, "It's okay," though her own face was burning with embarrassment.
Neither of them knew quite what to say, the tension hanging in the air as they both tried to gather themselves.