I feel bad for Mother. I know that it is important to expose me to danger early on, so as to try and prevent me from freezing in real situations, I can understand the logic, it still must have been hell to endure and to do, to consciously hurt your child. At least for most people that is
Though it does not surprise me. I knew it wouldn't be long before someone that says they love me, ends up cutting into me, even if I did not think it would be so literal
I assume she is now making something spectacular to try and make up for the guilt she might be feeling. I will make sure to utterly enjoy it together with her, I hope that will help
I continue to flip through one of my father's books as I think this
I was a bit surprised when I sorely opened up the door, it is a quite simple study
It is about the size of something like a walk-in closet. Almost every wall has been obscured by rundown book shelves of various woods and styles that tower over me, teaming with leather bound tomes and books. There is a rather wide desk on the opposite wall to the door, with a small rectangular window placed high above it.
As I walk towards it, I trace my hand along the closest bookshelf, reading the titles as I do: The Monarchian Legacy: The history of Ancient Orin, Rituals of the Ice Wind Land, Anatomy of magical inflictions and transformations, The Crowns of Korinth and The King of Wraiths, Quagmire's Guide to Mechanical Applications of Magic Circuits, The Saeros Separation
I land on a well worn book on the far end of the shelf, The Basics of Magic: Ancient and Modern Interpretations by Lucian Plith.
As I pull it out of the shelf, I nearly drop it, it is a quite hefty book. The cover has been repaired many times by different kinds of cord and strips of leather.
I drag it over to the paper swarmed desk, managing to lift myself onto the chair and plop down my chosen book onto a spot on the desk with the least layers of paper
Might as well start with the beginning. I begin to read aloud the introduction of the thick textbook
"Magic is an ancient and integral part of modern day society around and beyond the material plane. It has gone through many iterations, going from mystical intuition to Intellectual theory"
I shift my weight, folding one leg under the other in order to get comfortable
"Magic has gone through many discoveries and executions, learning more and more as time goes on. We still have the traditional mix of verbal incantations, somatic actions and material sacrifice, made for more practical and intense applications of mana. And there are the more modern applications of magic found in the technical circuits and circles of today, often combining physical engineering of Architects and Artificers with runic writings meant to manipulate magic with easily scalable properties"
"My students and fellow professors tell me I am not very good with talking to people, so there have been many concerns raised when it was revealed I was writing a text book meant for the average being, not just the intellectuals and scholars of magical thought and practice-"
As I am reading, I can see faded scribblings, seemingly from the same person in the margins of the book. The strokes differ widely in precision, probably from them growing up and aging I guess
"-So, as my students have convinced me, let me try to convince you of the wondrous and practical uses for magic in one's every day: Magic, or the manipulation of innate mana within and without the body, even in the simplest of forms can better and create ease within your own life, need a fire? Just snap your fingers and that primal spark of energy combusts into flame. Dying of thirst? Wave your hands as it flows into a malleable stream of pristine water. This is more of an opinion, which I will try my best to leave out in this textbook.It does not have enough study to fully back this statement, but magic just feels, well magical. Just the beauty of it alone, is what draws me in every day, a feeling that is very difficult for me to describe."
I can feel the age within the lettering of the book as I turn to the next page, feel the faint brittleness of the paper
"And with that, I'll try to leave you to the rest of the book. I created this in honor of my father, to continue his ambition to teach the coming generations on the beauty of magic, though you may be intimidated by my more technical style of description, I hope this can be a help to prod you into the path of magic, or maybe just a stop along the road."
-Lucian Plith
"Oh, whatcha got there?" A female voice whispers from behind me. Then I am suddenly grabbed from behind
For a second, my body freezes. My heart feels like it is accelerating like a car, out of my chest.
But then, I smell the familiarly sweet scent mixed with a bitter hue of sweat
"Oooh, you studying up on magic, hmm?" my mother continues, a hint of regret as she loosens her hold on me
"Yes, that ice thing I did got me interested, so I grabbed a book. Father did say I could use them, right?" As I say that, I can feel my body begin to relax again
"Your father really did like to write a lot in this particular one" her hand tracing the scribbling on the edge of the page "well, how about you take a break, I've made lunch!"
With that she releases me from the hug and heads out the study
The small pit sitting in my stomach ever since we got back, had finally been brocken, though it did inflame for a bit there, is now slowly passing
I wonder what grand feast I will be presented with.
——————————————————————————————————————————
It is dark out now, I can hear the chirps of crickets in the distance, time must have passed by.
The rough texture of the worn parchment, crinkling slightly under my finger tips as I turn the page, continuing to reading aloud
"Among the basic spells mentioned previously, 'Flame light' is among the more easier spells, and possibly a contender for one of the more useful spells. It was created by Rythas, one of the ancient bearers of the title of 'Fire monarch', and has been... Yada yada yada"
I impatiently mutter under my breath, quickly looking to the next page. "Ah, here it is"
Sweeping the papers littered on the desk, I Prop the book open in my seated lap, I follow the caricature in the book and raise my hand out, palm upward
"Pearls of ambition..."
I can feel my fingers tingling as if they have fallen asleep, a warm fluid rushes to my palm
"Set alight.."
I can feel a bead of heat form in my hand
"Trailblazing through the unknown: Flame Light"
A small flame ignites, dancing in my palm, casting shadows on my wide smile, eclipsing the small candle light I am reading by
A pale skin covers it, constricting it, shrinking it into a small mote
Magic, what else do I have to say?
Thoughts of joy envelop my dark mind for a moment, the sweet feeling of success filling my soul
I quickly scan the page with my other hand
"Though it does need some small amount of concentration to maintain the shell, with enough practice, it becomes easily unnoticeable, though I would warn beginners to stay away from flam-"
"Whatcha doing sweety?"
Surprised, I jump a little, losing my hold on the mote
"I uh... magic?" I hastily respond to my Mother "Uh, huh!?"
I notice the pale skin of the mote has broken, leaving the flame inside to creep out and onto the desk
"HUH!"
Frantically, I place my hands out in front of me in a diamond shape, closing my eyes to focus
I try to focus on that familiar feeling.
Exerting a little, I begin to feel the warm fluid cool into a stream, forcing it through me, and out. The strange feeling of fluid exerting out of my pores commences. It builds and builds, into a small ball of water in the diamond space between my hands.
With an exhale, I release it and it falls onto the desk, putting out the fire with a sputter and crackle
gingerly, I turn around to see the face of my Mother, bracing for the cutting words
As I look up, I can see the familiar cheeky grin on my Mother
"So this is what you've been doing these past weeks, cooped up in here all this time"
Suddenly, for what feels like the hundredth tim this week, she forcefully hugs me from behind, tickling my sides. Maybe a little too hard
"You were starting to worry me a little, but I see you were doing something extraordinary. Here, let me see"
She spins the chair around, and grabs my hands, forcing my palms up, and placing hers underneath
"I may not be as good as your father, but I know a few things.C'mon, lets see that again? That warm flowing in your arms, the buzzing in your fingers? Close your eyes and focus on that feeling"
I look curiously at my Mother, her eyes gently closed. I can see one eye peak out at me as I observe her. Caught, I hastily close mine
I can feel the warmth of her hands under mine, feeling it growing
I think back to when I was reinciting the incantation. The crackle of my mana, as it warms my body
Again, I feel the warmth flow through my arms as my fingers begin to buzz
Through my eyelids, I can see a blazing light pierce through
As I open them, I am almost blinded by the five blazing motes of light in my palms, slowly spiraling around each other in a circular motion
Excitedly, she clasps her hands on the lights before I can marvel at them anymore, sputtering it out. She grips me in a tight bear hug, lifting me out of the chair, swinging me around
"I just knew you were special! It took me a year to produce that without the incantation! Look at you!"
She rubs her cheek against mine, nuzzling me, full of pride
Eventually, she sets me down back onto the chair, now putting on a parental face
"You shouldn't be staying up late mister, off to bed you" Her face twitches as she desperately tries to hide her girn
Though I would have rather continued to read, I begrudgingly go to bed. I wonder what I will do tomorrow.
The next few weeks looked very similar, going by in a flash
The wooden book shelves became a familiar sight for me as I began to read almost every one of the leather bound tomes in my Father's office,
I would often do something similar in my past life, locking myself in my dark room, reading or watching some kind of story to pass the time. Sitting in comfortable clothes in the darkness
A time of respite, though in this case, from the arduous strength and sword training I would do with Mother in that very same ring as before
I had gotten pretty accurate with my grey blade if I do say so myself, though, every attempt I made to go on the offensive against my mother would be followed with me falling butt first onto the dusty arena.
Each day, due to my mother's advice, I would try to sprinkle in some kind of my own magical flair when my own physical strength was ultimately not enough. But again, each attempt would be swatted out of the air
There was a weight thrown onto my shoulders. Each time I would think I could understand something, my "Progress" would be thrown back into my face. Each search for an answer would give me a greater sense of grief. My face contorting in anguish for tears that will not come
So, I would spend every night that I could, pushing through the best I could, inside this dusty study, immersing myself in magical theory and incantation, brow shriveled in concentration. Surely there is something in here that can get me a foothold against my Mother. It worked good enough in my past, just keep forcing yourself until the solution is brought up in the ruins
One night, as I was reading, I felt a firm, yet small hand, grip my shoulder
"Jace"
I am startled a little, as I look up towards the speaker
"something you will have to learn is when to call it a day" My father says with his tired eyes. He had been gone for three months, only to just get back a few days ago. It appears like he was not able to get much sleep the entire time it seems. Though I am not sure what he does disappearing so often.
Then with a sigh, he lessened the grip on my shoulder, and kneeled down to my level
"Jace, I apologize for not being around more than I should be… Let me make it up to you. Tomorrow, you're gonna train with me. I'll find a way to convince your mother, one way or another…"
I'm sure he can
So then, early the next morning, I followed my father out of the cabin.
I have not been out this early, even with Mother. It is still dark out, illuminated by a trio of flame light motes leading the way. The stalls of the town are now completely silent and motionless, except for the occasional person taking an early morning walk.
Father was in his usual red and blue coat, with his staff in one hand, and a cloth covered box in the other. I was not able to get another good look at his staff since the festival all those years ago. It is a quite simple staff, just a dark staff of wood, shaven smooth. The tip of the staff is a gleaming red gem, secured by a golden spiral. Simple, but you can't help but have your eyes drawn towards it
The few people on the road give a slight honorary bow towards us as we pass.
We make our way out of town and into my beloved golden fields. We walk for what feels like miles for my small feet. Everywhere around us looks the same, my internal compass is spinning, casting a slight shadow of dread over myself.
I must have nodded off, because I wake up on my father's back.
"Do not worry Jace, we are almost there"
My father is hunched over, using his staff as something for me to sit on.
"You can rest some more, I got you"
I doubt that last part a little, as I can feel the trembling of his legs, but I still nod off
When I wake up again, I have been put down, laying against a tree
It is a rather large, and strange old tree set over a small pond. It resembles something like a cross between a pink Sakura cherry blossom and a willow tree. Old twisting bark snaking here and there over the water, with threaded branches falling down from it like hairs, covered in pink petals. A welcoming punch against the darkening stars
"Ah, good timing"
I twist my head to see my father seated against the trunk of the tree next to me. A somber smile on his face as he stares towards the horizon
"Jace, I cannot completely understand what you're feeling, but I have witnessed similar expressions from others and even myself sometimes. Whenever that happens, I like to come out here, especially here in the morning. Here, take a look"
He places one hand on the trunk of the tree, a slight hum of mana as he does. Then with his other hand, he makes a sweeping motion towards the curtain of pink leaves. Responding to his actions, the noisy creeks of the trunk resound as the leaves move, revealing peaks of yellow hills
Out in the horizon, Haven and the ocean appear in full view. Slowly, but surely, yellowed rays of light begin to appear, bathing the hills and the town in gold.
A soft rustle of grass as a cool wind blows through us, partially protected by the tree's pink curtain.
It is hard to describe the feelings that erupts within me. I know I boasted about my lush fields and the ocean in the distance. Though that will still have a special place in my heart, my words to truly describe this experience leave me
It reminds me of a summer I spent with Grace, just staring out into the ocean. No sense of doubt would have entered my mind on that day, I felt complete, even if I would eventually learn of the apparently false feelings of my other half. I can't help but feel a little tense in this scene
Despite that, I can feel an involuntary sigh escape me as the beams reach us and the tree, tinted slightly pink
I look at the man next to me, a content smile on his face. I can see the light highlighting the bags under his eyes and his slight stubble.
After a moment of silence, the two of us admiring the sun rise, Father begins again
"Though I commend your effort, you need to take meaningful breaks sometimes, to take a step back and just breath"
I see what he means, it feels like the morning light of the sun is melting me away.
No
What does he know? I'm pretty sure I've lived longer than he has
Taking time to relax is a moment of un-needed vulnerability
I tense myself a little in expectation from an unforeseen lash. Time has a habit of biting away at one when you put yourself down to enjoy something. One second you're studying away, the next you are failing at a life altering test of wit, or hell, fuckin reincarnated as some kiddy nobody
"I also brought this with me, baked it last night"
He produces the cloth covered box. Unwrapping it and removing the top, lays four spiraled golden pastries resembling cinnamon rolls
He tears one from the box, it sticks a little as he does, and reaches out to hand me it
Gingerly, I take it from him.
It is a rather dense pastry. As I bite down into it, I can taste the layers upon layers of pastry and sweet fruit preserves, a mix of ripe strawberry and bitter orange.
Father reaches down for another one, biting into his own
We just sit there, eating our sweet breakfast, staring out over our home
There is no coiling snake to appear from the grass
Just two people in silence