by Amy Morris
“I don’t want to hurt anybody accidentally, how do I control it?” I ask.
“That will be the last lesson I give you and you alone after lunch. For now, try to keep your emotions in check while you train with knives.” She squeezes my shoulder giving me encouragement before walking to the table the knives rest on and sorting through them. “Now shall we train?” she asks while throwing two with one hand, hitting the crudely drawn bullseye in the wood with both.
“Wow,” Angel’s mouth hangs slightly open now, “Knives are her favorite, she said.” He joins her at the table ahead of the rest of us and starts discussing throwing techniques.
Angel is the first to try his hand at the wooden dummy, he’s good from the little training he received as part of the military. Talia hits the bullseye with almost every throw and frustrates easily when she misses the mark.
I encourage Goss to go before me. After a few pointers from my mother, she is still barely hitting the thick tree stump. I’m next after she’s completely exasperated with the sport.
“Just breath, aim through your wrist to the target Abigail,” my mother hands me five knives.
“Yeah, piece of cake,” as I take my place in front of the group. All in the wrist my mind keeps repeating as I flick back a short blade to throw, but the yelp behind me tells me what I already felt. I released the knife while pulling my arm and hand back, narrowly missing Angel. “Shit, sorry Angel.”
“At least I held in my scream as it raged towards me,” while wiggling the handle of the wayward knife to remove it from the table next to him.
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright, now everyone but Abby take a step back. Now throw but release on the forward motion.” Her voice sounds disappointed by my first throw, but everything changes to praise as I strike the bullseye with the four I have left.
“Ha,” I turn to see four people with stunned looks on their faces. “What?”
Talia moves first to the target, “All four embedded together in the same spot. How did you do that?”
“I don’t know. All I did was flick my wrist, envisioned King Alex’s face and let’em rip.” I’m so proud I’m ready to burst by my newfound talent. “I wonder what else I can do… Swords are a no obviously, the bow is hit or miss literally, but knives I can do it turns out.”
“You can say that again,” Angel states. “Let’s make sure it’s not some fluke. Try it again, Abby.”
This time five knives pierce the same location, so just to be sure Angel marks a new spot lower on the stump. Again, I hit all five. This continues with a new target for six more rounds.
“I think I have to resign as knife master now,” Talia’s smile alone is a boost to my ego, let alone the compliment.
“You and me both,” my mother laughs while bowing to me. “It’s still early for lunch, so let us adjourn outside for some moving target practice.”
We spend the next two hours in the rear courtyard throwing knives or shooting arrows at small sacks of rocks thrown into the air.
Gossimer bests us all with the bow, but I somehow am not far behind her. I’m getting better it would seem to everyone, including myself, after a little more practice. Throwing knives though I stand apart, even from my mother and Talia whose skills are better honed.
After lunch, my three friends leave us to practice sword skills in the main courtyard while my mother leads me to a back garden of the convent. Unlike the other two gardens I have seen here, this one is more utilitarian, no ornamental flowers, they only grow edible plants here.
“We are using the kitchen's garden for this lesson, so please do not destroy their favorite herbs.”
I shrug my shoulders, “What do I do?”
“Just think of something, happy or sad, that means a lot to you. Feel the power in you with that emotion, it’s not a burning sensation exactly, but more of a wave is what you’re looking for.” She assures me before taking a step back.
For over an hour, I concentrate on distinct memories or people that give me heavy emotions. First the anger that I feel towards King Alex, then the happiness of having my mother and the possibility of seeing my father, but to no avail. Heartache I don’t share openly replays in my mind as I try to feel the power that lives in me, still nothing.
“It’s been two hours,” I yell and throw my arms down to my side. A blue spark flies from my left hand to my left foot, “Oh hells that hurts,” I holler out for my injured foot.
“So frustration and anger combined releases some of your magic it seems.” Seeing the disappointment and pain in my face, she continues, “It’s not abnormal Abigail for it to take a lot of emotion to manifest. Have no fear once it does it will be as easy as throwing a knife to strike with it.” She flicks her wrist as though throwing a small blade, I do the same. Zapping an orchid out of existence just in front of me.
“Now what?” comes out of my mouth whinier than I want. She laughs for a moment at my expression before turning serious once more.
“Now we keep trying, gather those emotions again. But this time before you strike, feel for the energy in you. The tingling of power and try to aim this time.”
After a few more failed attempts, my level of anger and frustration are close to what it was when I loosed the previous blue spark. Instead of continuing into a tirade, I slow down and realize I feel a cooling sensation flow from my chest to my hands. The blue flame I realize, it’s a cold tingle, not a fiery flame I had thought it would be. I strain to control it in my right hand instead of letting it loose this time. A small ball of blue fire burns above my palm, taking my left hand over it to add more as I create an orb.
“How?” Before deciding to pull back and throw it at the far garden wall. The orb of leaves my hands like a large ball and hits the wall I focused on. It’s not a person, so I don’t know how much power I sent, but judging by my mother’s open mouth and the scorch marks on the white stone, it might have been excessive.
“Did I do something wrong?” turning my attention back to my mother.
“No, that’s just more power than I’ve seen in my time. Can you try to focus on the feeling you had when the flames danced over your palm?” With little effort, let alone anger and despair from before; the flame dances gently along my fingers as I play with it. Holding my left hand back over my right palm, I create another blue orb. The dancing flames I create enlarge to over twice the previous size. Worry worms its way into my mind, I throw my arms back to stop it from growing larger. Instead of it just disappearing, two large burn marks appear on the ground on either side of me along with cracks in the now scorched earth.
“Oh no, did I do something wrong again?” Turning to see my mother’s surprised face.
“Not at all the prophecy seems accurate, you are possibly the most powerful of the Fraine since Queen Ismerelda.”
“What do I do now?” I’m in in disbelief of what she says.
“Try summoning a flame without the emotions. Look for that feeling inside of you and focus on it.”
Complying with what she asks, I use my left hand to call it forth. “Now what?” as flames linger over my palm.
“Control it, make it a tighter ball,” she encourages me. I do what she asks, concentration the loose blue flames turn into one another, creating a small potato sized ball. It slowly forms into a smaller orb. Almost like a large marble that shifts color. It’s formed perfectly, no wisp of flame escapes it now. “Now throw that Abigail.”
I throw the small orb at the far garden wall and an enormous explosion takes place before us. The smooth white stone now partially scorched some sixty feet away no longer exists. A ten foot wide hole is now apparent, what’s left of the sides show black scorch marks.
“Oh my,” my mother gasps as heavy footsteps enter behind us.
“What happened?” Angel asks before reaching my side.
“I happened,” my voice no louder than a whisper.
“Glad I’m on your side,” Talia throws her arm over my shoulder. I turn
to see Goss stand with my mother, both with expressions of disbelief on their faces.
A laugh breaks out of Goss, “Glad I’m on your side,” as she walks closer to the destruction. And with that everyone, including myself, releases a much-needed whistle or snort at the gaping hole in the wall.
After some encouragement from my mother, I show the other’s that I’m now able to summon my magic. Whether to zap an enemy or decimate an offending wall. I now possess the power to tip the scales in our favor during our journey wherever it takes us.
11
Breakfast is a solemn affair, knowing that I must now leave my mother to fulfill the prophecy set before me. Why me? Escapes from my mind, not my mouth from the looks on my friends' faces around me. “Sorry,” I mutter, not wanting to intrude on their own thoughts this morning.
“It’s ok,” Goss gives me a smile. “It’s new to you so no one can blame you for not knowing what you’re doing.”
The comment hurts a little, but she’s right. I do not understand what I’m doing, but still at this moment I’m being sent out to fulfill a prophecy I don’t understand. Which honestly scares the hell out of me.
“Queen Alicia explained to all of us last night in the baths that you may not control it for sometime. Don’t look so surprised you were there Abby, it’s okay, I promise you.” Angel gives me an encouraging grin.
“He’s right, doesn’t happen often so he should relish it.” Talia throws into the mix with a wink in my direction.
“I know, I get it. But it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. I’m better at controlling my magic than my telepathy, as they call it. I promise to try harder to control it from now on.”
“What if there’s an attack, all three of us need the warning, not just one of us. So what I’m saying is don’t worry about it Abby,” Talia reminds me.
She has a point, but it’s not long before my mother joins us, “she’ll be able to focus on just who needs to know before you know it. Abigail is powerful, I know she can master it before it causes harm.” She gives me a brief smile before starting in on her own plate.
“So where to now? Do we know where the second stone is yet?” Goss asks. I never would have thought her to be the adventurous type, but she’s been full of surprises these last few days between the skill with a bow and blind understanding of me having powers.
“Well, I’ve been protecting the Bloom stone all these years, so I assumed Abigail would need it for her journey.” My mother offers without a hint of emotion, as if it’s just some cheap trinket.
“You’re just now telling us,” Talia groans, although I agree with her.
“Don’t get mad, I already knew you didn’t have need of it until you left, so why mention it before?” And no one has an answer. “Once we are all satisfied with breakfast, I will turn it over to you Abigail along with the location of the third. Really, the four of you look as though you don’t trust me, which hurt’s my feelings a little,” she throws out with a devilish grin.
“If you knew where the next stone was and possessed one yourself, why not tell us sooner?” Which to be honest, I agree with Talia’s question at this point.
“I wanted to make sure my daughter was the one prophesied before relinquishing it.” She throws to us as if reading a weekly royal news article in the banners. “Now that I know it’s true, I’ll gladly pass it along to help restore Fraine.” She’s not wrong, but the earlier connotation she suggests still hurts.
“So does anything happen to me by adding another stone?” I ask after thinking it through. “I don’t want my friends hurt, let alone myself if you must know.” I explain, even though the look on her face tells me I don’t need to.
“No, it should be fine since it’s the source of all our powers.” She produces a small red box from her dress pocket and hands it to me, “It’s safe to open it in here.”
She need not tell me twice. Sliding the top of the box off purple light illuminates from within. Removing it completely I see the color emanating brightly, this one is solid though when I hold it in my hand. “This one isn’t a locket.”
“It’s glowing, so my assumption is that it’s the right thing,” Talia suggests.
“They created the Asp locket when the original stone was gifted to Queen Ismerelda as a gift from her soon to be husband,” mother offers.
The design on it is like a rose, “Should I string this one onto the chain as well?” I ask, not knowing exactly what to do with it. My mother answers by unclasping the Asp locket chain and threading this pendant onto it. The two touch midway down my chest. The light from them is almost blinding for a moment before they no longer glow.
“See, everything is fine, the stones are happy to be back together, my dear.” My mother’s words are a comfort since enough has gone wrong recently, not wanting to add explosion around my neck to the list.
“I would suggest tucking those back under your blouse,” Goss mentions as she helps hold out the neckline of my shirt to allow me to do just that.
“Ok, so two stones down and four to go. Do you know where another one is, mother?” Pushing my now empty breakfast plate towards the middle of the table.
She sputters a quick laugh, “oh yes, I know where one should be. Verona is the guardian of the Crest stone. From what Vernet has told me recently, she should still be in Mystic.”
The four of us are quiet for a moment, “Where is that?” Angel asks since none of us has offered a suggestion on where we are heading next.
“Mystic is a river valley two days north of Coasin in Fraye,” as if it’s nothing my mother shrugs.
“Oh ok,” my sarcasm kicks in, “No big deal, just give us horses and we’ll be on our way.”
“Don’t be silly, there’s a plan to get you to Coasin. From there it’s a quick two days travel to Mystic by horse.” She makes it sound so simple, but what is the plan I ask myself. “I enjoy it when you all think the same thing,” she laughs, giving us a broad smile. “There is a merchant ship leaving Shete before lunch headed to Coasin. I arranged some time back with the captain to transport four passengers when the time arrived.”
Ok, sounds simple then. “What time do we need to board then?” I ask.
“Well, that part is tricky,” she answers me.
“How tricky?” I have a feeling none of us will like the answer to Talia’s question.
Three hours later, the four of us get hoisted onto the ship in a large box. “Really not what I had in mind,” Angel grumbles as we bash around, from side to side.
“I agree,” Goss already looking sea sick at the sudden jolting.
Talia doesn’t say a word, having already been sick twice since we started the journey in the large wooden carton. If her sickness is this bad on dry land, I can only imagine what it will be like at sea. That prospect is not comforting at all.
We hear ropes stretching minutes later, good at least we won’t have to worry about being thrown from the ship deck. But sinking with the ship is another story, it seems. “We’ll be fine, we have plenty of supplies. The journey should be less than two days,” Angel tries to smile as we’re banged around again.
“Easy for you to say” Goss mutters, gods don’t let her be sick. It’s bad enough with one person already, but another… I don’t even want to think about it.
Within an hour we can hear the calls to cast off. The gentle rock of the boat at port gives way to a harsher sway. Thankfully, no one is sick the first night. Goss is able to keep it together and Talia is out of contents in her stomach. We all fall asleep huddled together in the box and pray for smooth seas.
The first morning on the boat you can smell the air tang with salt, which is refreshing until late afternoon. At that point, it seems to be too sour for our mouths. Smooth sailing leaves us as a storm descends upon the boat by dinner. Rocking violently the whole night almost does me in, but I’m able to keep it together, much to the chagrin of my three friends who are all ill from the rough ride.
As dawn breaks on the s
econd day, we are all relieved to hear a hearty “Land ho before lunch.” Praying that it’s port and not that we’ve been blown us off course.
The captain speaks to us through the wood of our current home to confirm that we should arrive in port within a few hours. His voice has been the only comfort of the outside world the last day onboard, secretly relaying messages and wishes of goodwill during tumultuous times.
As good as his word after we have eaten our lunch we can hear the clamor of ship mates trying to dock the ship at port. The water has been calm since morning, and I for one need the reprieve before escaping the port today.
The large wooden box lands on the dock with a thud, feeling as though my brain has come loose in my head as I try to speak. But before I’m able to get a word out, we’re thrown backwards, assuming the box has been off-loaded onto a wagon. We hope it’s safe to assume the men yelling outside aren’t aware of the contents they’re tumbling.
“I’m over all of this,” Talia grumbles from a corner. Angel and myself giggle at seeing her so lost at this moment.
“That about just did me in,” Goss murmurs, giving her credit. She has controlled the urge of being physically ill the whole voyage. I pray now is not the time she loses it, though. Liquid coming from our current home would be too suspicious in my mind.
We can hear horses and the uneven jolt of being pulled, so at least the assumption we are on land is correct. “What’s our next move?” Angel asks. He doesn’t really know since he was comforting Talia when the captain spoke through the wood earlier to confirm the plan.
“We’ll be delivered to a tavern. Someone there knowing we’re in here will release us,” is all I can remember.
“I hope the tavern is in the port,” Goss mutters, keeping one hand across her midsection and the other loosely across her mouth.
I give her shoulder a quick squeeze for reassurance, we’ve been moving now for at least twenty minutes when the unthinkable happens. Our crate careens to the left and tumbles off whatever’s carrying it. We hear yelling from the outside as we all slam against the side of the box that’s now the bottom. “What the hells are you doing?” a woman’s voice yells. “For all you know that box has my new serving plates.”
