“Oh, I can just hear the complaining now,” said Sapphire. “What do you mean there’s only water left Sapphire? You never make enough Sapphire. You sure you don’t have more hidden away somewhere Sapphire?”
“And then there’s the incessant pouting,” said Moira. “You would think water was a slow acting poison, and every drop pained their tongues and heads.”
“The only thing paining their heads is the hangovers they pretend not to have,” said Sapphire.
“And who do they go to when they need a headache remedy?” asked Ross. “I’m not naming names, but my supply of pain relieving powder gets rather slim before I can make some more in the spring after the thaw.”
Dinner went on in this manner for some time. Between Ross complaining about people sneaking his meds, Moira about people eating all her food and Sapphire about people swilling all her drinks, there were plenty of laughs to go around.
After dinner, and before bed, I headed back to my room to go over my candle lighting exercises that Ross recommended. So far, things had not gone well. The first night I tried the only light I was able to manage was from a pre-existing fire, and the only way I put it out was the old fashioned way. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be doing, but staring at the candle flames had not accomplished anything so far.
Still, I figured if it was enough for Ross to tell me to do it, I should at least try. After all, it being winter, it’s not like I had a lot of other things to do. So I settled down with an unlit candle in my room with the door shut and began staring at it, willing it to light.
After about 10 minutes, I let my concentration lapse, mostly in frustration, and looked around the room. At least the familiar surroundings broke up the monotony of staring at that damn candle.
So I see your magic practice is going about as well as your sword and archery practice.
Hey, at least I can hit the target in archery. I’m working on the swordsmanship part too.
Oh, is that what you call that flailing with wooden staves. The only bit of real swordsmanship you have done was using me to cut that dummy in half. I note that this was the last time you used me in earnest.
If I can barely manage the wooden sword, do you really think it a good idea that I wave a real one around?
Please, with me as your guide, you will learn the proper use of a sword. I bet we could chop the replacement dummy in half right now!
Oh, yes, that’s a good idea. Let’s leave another flaming wreckage behind. That will endear ourselves with our hosts.
Bah, they love you. You do all the farm work, all the drudge work growing the food and harvesting it, and free them to have fun. They won’t toss you out on your ear now. You are their new field hand.
I am not just a field hand to them! I’m being trained to be part of the crew.
Oh yes, that’s what they’re doing. Certainly not just humoring the field hand by giving him wooden toys to play with after his chores are done. You really are gullible aren’t you? If you polish me up real good, maybe I’ll “train” you to be useful too.
I’m not just easy labor to them. Why train me in archery or the sword if all I’m good for is field work?
Because you are a child and a few toys keeps you playing happily and gets the chores done with few complaints.
I’m not a child. I’m being trained to be a bandit to help them. It’s just in the meantime they are using my existing skills to their best use.
Of course they are. It has nothing to do with the fact that Devlin doesn’t enjoy work, Moira prefers hunting and Sapphire would rather brew spirits than get the real work done. You’re a sap and you are letting them take advantage of you.
I am not!
Even this magic thing is just to keep you occupied. Keep you happy. If you had any real power, do you think they would be training you to create fires inside?
I do too have magical powers! Ross says so.
Oh yes, take his word for it. After all, he pitches in so often with the field work and chores.
He’s busy making medicine, healing Devlin and helping Sapphire brew spirits.
Yeah, it has nothing to do with making you do all the real work and letting him pursue his hobbies all day.
At this point I realized my head was throbbing again. My anger was interfering with my ability to concentrate and the sword’s taunting wasn’t helping.
Would you please stop bothering me. I have work to be doing here.
Oh yes, lets end the argument simply because you want to stare at a candle. By all means, waste your time.
IT IS NOT A WASTE OF TIME!
And with that I started staring fiercely at the candle and ignoring the sword.
Oh so now it’s the silent treatment.
…
How lovely for you. But tell me, how do you ignore something that speaks directly to your brain? It’s not like putting your fingers in your ears will help.
…
Still ignoring me. We’ll see about that.
…
Ok, you asked for it.
…
How are your parents doing? Oh that’s right, they died and you blew up the farm. I see you have been grieving for them too. Replaced them immediately with the mayor and his pretty little daughter, and now with this group of highway bandits. Now that’s love. Replaced by thieves.
And with that my head exploded with pain. Blistering, rippling, palpable pain.
BLOODY FUCKING HELL DON’T YOU EVER QUESTION MY LOVE FOR MY PARENTS AGAIN OR I WILL MELT YOU INTO…
And just as I was mentally yelling at the sword, my eyes never leaving the candle, a great light exploded where the candle was. It knocked me onto my back and the sword and chair both fell over as well. Just as I was sitting up, Ross threw open the door to my room.
“What happened here!?” He demanded.
“Uh, I was trying to light the candle?” I said, with my headache receding.
“You call this lighting a candle?” He replied.
With that he walked over and nudged the now very much melted brass candle holder with his foot and picked some molten wax off the wall behind it.
“Um… Attempting it anyway…” I stammered.
“And what part of blasting it into molten pieces was that attempt?” He asked.
“The part where I… um… lost control…” I replied.
“And why did you lose control?” He asked.
“Because I, uh, kind of lost my temper.” I said.
“And you lost your temper because?...” He asked.
“Because I was frustrated at not being able to light the candle…” I replied lamely.
“Uh huh…” he said with raised eyebrows. “See, this is why I asked you to do this outside first…”
Just then Devlin looked in around Ross.
“What’s going on in here?” He asked.
“Tyr was having some issue lighting a candle,” said Ross.
“I can see that. Tyr, you will find candles light better when they aren’t smeared all over the wall,” said Devlin with a grin.
“Uh, yes sir.” I stammered starting to feel really embarrassed.
“Oh god! Tyr, did you destroy something else?” came Moira’s voice from the hallway.
“What, did someone trust him with another practice dummy?” Came Sapphire’s voice from further away.
And with that, my humiliation felt fairly complete. I’m guessing my face was as red as a tomato.
I knew you could do it kid! Just needed a little push is all.
Oh, don’t you start again.
Not picking another fight, just congratulating you.
And why is that? You know this is your fault right?
I take no credit in blowing up that candle. That was all you kid. But I think we have found your trigger.
Trigger?
What lets you channel magical energies or what have you.
Oh?
Emotion. Specifically, anger. When you get hopping mad, you let it loose. I
suspected ever since I taunted you into destroying that practice dummy.
YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE?!
Calm down kiddo. We don’t want anything, or anyone, else to blow up. But after watching you spend these past few nights staring at a candle and failing miserably, I figure you needed a push.
You call teasing me with my parent’s death a push?
Well, I did warn you.
Not enough apparently.
“Well, I think the show here is all over,” said Ross.
“I guess so. Tyr, before sword practice tomorrow, clean the wax off the walls will you?” said Devlin.
And with that everyone wandered off. Everyone except Ross.
“Tyr, you are going to have to learn how to control your powers before you attempt to use them inside again. I apologize for setting you with this exercise first. Though I did say to work on ice outside first… Anyway, when I was in the monastery, the problem most of the talented had was channeling any of their power at all. Most could barely move a leaf. Your problem seems different. When you unleash, things explode.”
“I’m sorry Ross. I was trying…” I said.
“It’s not your fault, Tyr. It’s mine for not realizing that you are different in the first place. I assumed what worked for me, would work for you. Apparently, that is not the case. So instead of candle lighting, I want you to focus on melting the ice on ponds, like we had previously discussed. That way if you blow a hole in something again, it will be away in the forest where presumably no one will be around to get hurt,” said Ross.
“Ok, I will try to melt ice and what not next time. I’m sorry I blew up the candle,” I said. “I didn’t mean for that to happen…”
“I know kid, I know. It just means we have to go about this in a different way. A safer way,” said Ross.
“Ok,” I said.
“Cheer up, Tyr. No harm was done, and in a twisted sort of way, you have just made some progress,” said Ross smiling.
“Thanks,” I said. “I will try to do better next time.”
“With practice you will,” said Ross. “But for now I think it’s bed time. Good night, Tyr,” said Ross, taking his leave and walking to his room.
The last bit of the evening was spent cleaning up the wax. Fortunately it was a small room, because it had gotten everywhere. Once clean, I gathered the salvageable wax, and brought it to the area where candle scraps where stored to be melted into new candles. Moira typically would harvest the animal fat from her kills and render it into candle wax. However, she still required us to give her the melted wax from spent candles. She viewed wasting it as committing a deadly sin. A sin, because wasting any part of an animal she killed she took as a personal affront. And deadly, because if you did it enough she would threaten to render you down into replacement candles. Devlin said she was joking, but I wasn’t so sure.
With the wax cleaned and stored for recycling, and my room back in order, there was nothing left to do except go to bed. And if I was honest with myself, I was quite tired.
Chapter 11.
I would like to say that the explosive experience with fire was the only one and that I quickly mastered my new found powers. After all, we all like to think we’re special. Unfortunately, I was not a fast learner. In my first few weeks trying to learn how to control the magic within me I had many similar incidents. After moving outside with my practice, I had a long time where I would try to melt ice, or boil water, and nothing would happen. I would get frustrated, and then I would accidentally obliterate the object of my frustrations. At least while I was outside, this would only result in spraying mud and water everywhere. It did mean I had to wash my clothes quite frequently, which was quite a punishment when the weather truly turned cold.
Fortunately, my other lessons were going well. In archery I was starting to hit the target from the limit of the practice field, about 100 yards. While this was no accomplishment for Moira, everyone else seemed to be impressed with my progress. Devlin constantly pointed out to me that the reason Moira was such a good hunter was that she could shoot a deer through the eye from over 100 yards and that this was an exceptional skill, equivalent to his skill with the sword. What he meant was that it took years of practice and a lot of native talent to get that good. Still, at 15, I considered it a mild disappointment that I was not as skilled after a few months of training.
As for sword fighting, it was going well too, but maybe not as well as the archery. Over the course of the winter I progressed from learning the basics to short sparring matches with Devlin and Moira. Devlin was constantly pointing out the flaws in my form, but he also was quick to praise the progress I had made. Moira seemed to comment less as I improved. By the time the first thaw came through, I was starting to pull even with her on point sparring. Point sparring, if you are curious, is when you spar till someone gets a clean hit. That person is then awarded a point. She was still a little better than me, but my youthful exuberance made up for some of my lack of experience.
My sword, of course, was less impressed.
Kid, are you wearing lead boots out there or something? Devlin dances around you like you’re standing still, and Moira, who never uses swords, fights you to a standstill. Frankly, I’m disappointed. I wonder if I can bond with someone else… I bet Devlin has more use for a talking sword than you do.
Thanks! They both have years more experience than I do. Fortunately, I’ve been getting better. So, if you could be patient, maybe you’ll find my skills worthy in the future. Devlin seems to think I could become really good.
He’s just using positive reinforcement to help move you along. I’m betting he’s bored out there watching you flail about so ineptly.
Considering the snow is still on the roads, it’s not like he has a lot else to do.
And this was true. Jarvis, Bevan and Tiernan had come back from the road and were in for the winter. I had not seen much of them since they helped rescue me. We still didn’t talk much, as they were a bit of an insular group. But they did not loaf around all winter like I expected. Jarvis took a day to relax and mend his clothes and gear, then immediately began working on the longhouse and various storage areas and barns around the hideout. Apparently, before he became an outlaw, he had been a journeyman carpenter. He hadn’t told how that part of his life ended, but like everyone else here, I’m guessing something got ugly and he left before the law arrived.
Similarly, Bevan also fell back into his former profession during the winter months as well. He had been a blacksmith’s apprentice before he became an outlaw. Unlike Tiernan, who was not open with his background, Bevan joked frequently about how he became an outlaw. Apparently, the daughter of the blacksmith had taken a shine to him, and kids being kids, one thing led to another. Unfortunately, when the daughter got pregnant, the Smith blew his stack.
“And there I was, eating lunch in the forge and the Smith barges in holding a long metal rod screaming about how I ‘defiled’ his daughter,” recalled Bevan on a particularly snowy morning. “It was hard to tell through the old man’s yelling, but I gather he had found out about our little dalliances. I, of course, offered to do the honorable thing and marry the girl, but the smith was not listening to reason. He attacked me with that iron bar. Fortunately, while immensely strong, the old man wasn’t quick on his feet, so I was able to stay one step ahead of him as he chased me around the forge. As he wrecked the place, wildly swinging that metal bar, he left piles of debris scattered in his wake. While he was charging at me with the bar, I jumped over the scattered remains of raw iron and a wooden bench. He stubbed his toe on the iron, tripped and fell head first into the bench. The fall both cracked his skull and broke his neck. It was ugly. His head was twisted around unnaturally and there was blood everywhere. When his wife came in to investigate the sudden silence, she saw me standing over her husband, who was obviously dead and in a pool of blood, and she ran to get the guards. I grabbed my things as quick as I could at that point. As I left, I heard her calling for the guards
and calling me a murderer. With no other options, I ran off, hit the road and ended up here.”
“Why was it unfortunate that he messed up the forge?” I asked. “His tripping and falling may have saved your life.”
“Kid, he was old and slow, and I was young and quick. Not much older than you are now, honestly. If I had been able to wait till he tired out, I may have been able to get him to see reason. I would be head Smith now and married to his daughter. Probably, I would be living happily surrounded by family if he hadn’t gone and broken his own neck…”
01 - The Price of Talent Page 12
