Alyssum - Chapter Six

The day continued uneventfully, as much as a day can when everything is new and wonderful in comparison to an old life. Well, wonderful enough despite the very sore feet, itching abrasions, and pulsating facial bruise. Aeo had seen many dogs in Olvaren, but never a wolf, much less a gigantic intelligent one. Pick was surprisingly easy to talk to, and didn’t seem to tire listening to Aeo describe his life at the Grey Pale.
The wolf’s psychic responses were always simplistic, more hazy ideas, concepts, and colors than solid illustrations. It really was like talking to a fluffy two-year old child: sometimes Pick’s thoughts required clarification, which he attempted to give with enthusiasm. Other times, the thoughts would be a little too obscure, or reference a plant, an animal, or an action Aeo didn’t recognize. These foreign concepts were strangely refreshing if not utterly bewildering to have suddenly appear in his mind. It was as if a completely original idea had revealed itself from nowhere, a shape or a movement that Aeo had never dreamed of. Even when Pick described the familiar hopping of a rabbit or the flight of a bird, it felt as though Aeo’s mind had processed the concept for the first time. And quite honestly, many times it was the first time, as Aeo had rarely ever been outside the inn to experience these things.
With Pick dutifully laying his head in Aeo’s lap, their long conversation drifted away into sleep as the afternoon passed by. Just as the sunlight faded from the borders of the great wooden door, the door creaked. Aeo awoke with a start and looked towards the large door. Pick's ears perked up and he did the same.
The small door opened. In marched the form of Leon, wrapped up tightly in a puffy mountain jacket with a great hood over his head. He was also carrying a curiously shaped package... or was it a curiously shaped bag? Leon placed the bag-package down, clomped his feet at the door, and removed the gloves from his hands. Strangely enough, he now wore a pair of slim-framed spectacles that truly made him look like a school teacher.
“Goodness, it's coming down out there,” he said to no one in particular. He looked up at Aeo. “Well, how about that? Sitting up in bed and everything. How are your toes feeling?”
Pick looked up at Aeo.
“They're itchy, sir.”
“You're not touching them, are you?” Leon pulled off his coat.
“No, sir.”
“Good, good. I have some tonic that might help the healing process. This mountain's caverns are filled with helpful plants and fungi. if you know to find the right ones, of course.”
Leon walked over to Aeo's bed and knelt, placing the bag onto the floor. He unbuttoned the front flap and produced a small glass vial filled with a red-and-black oily speckled substance; he held it up and jingled it as his eyebrows raised. He then dove back into the bag and produced a roll of cotton bandages.
Leon lifted the fur blanket off of Aeo's feet and said "Hmm." What did "hmm" mean? Aeo peered over the blanket, and his stomach sank at the sight. He hadn't actually seen them himself yet – it was worse than he'd imagined.
“Skin's peeling a bit,” Leon said. “But they look more red than purple now. Certainly an improvement.”
Carefully, Leon cupped his hands over both sets of toes.
“Do you feel that?”
“Yeah,” Aeo said.
“Very good, you've got feeling. Well, you're itching, of course you do. Let's see if we can't help that...”
Suddenly, Pick's ears perked up. At the same time, the small door creaked open, and a tiny lonesome spherical figure hopped into the cave, shutting the door behind it. Then, a moment later, the entire wooden door shuddered, and something much larger followed in. In entered Hala and Shera. Shera’s dark eyes immediately caught Aeo’s.
“Oh, hello everyone!” cried Hala. The round fur coat hobbled over towards the campfire, and out of it stepped a foot-tall frog. She was no longer clothed in a bright dress, but a slim leather suit covered in various pockets and satchels. “My my, it gets chilly at this time!”
“Hello, Hala,” Leon said. “Come on in, Shera, there's room for all of us.”
A much gentler thought arose in Aeo's head.
<”Hello.”>
Aeo's stomach squirmed at the sight of her. He forced a small, silent wave as Pick howled. At least he was happy to see her.
“Aeo, it's wonderful you're up out of bed!” Hala said excitedly as Shera shook off the snow, closed the door, and laid down on top of Leon's bedding near the wall opposite Aeo. “Well, halfway out, of course. How is the frostbite coming along?” Hala stepped towards Leon and stood beside him, placing a webbed hand on his side. She gasped. “Oh, Goddess above, it's worse than I feared.”
<”I agree,”> said Shera, lowering her head to look.
“Believe me,” Leon said. “This is better than before.”
“Well!” she said excitedly. “All the more reason I'm here! Please, Leon, before you tend to those little piggies, I have a quick assignment for you!”
From one of her pockets Hala produced a thin string made of... silk? Whatever it was, it shined and reflected the firelight like a thin strand of glass. She also produced a small bit of something black like a dark pebble.
“Now, hold that end to the top of his big toe,” she said, and Leon obeyed. Hala dove down and placed the other end on his heel, making a black mark on the string with what was definitely charcoal. Aeo forced himself not to move despite the tickling sensations. “Now the other one!” They repeated the process with his other foot. “Now across!” she sang, now measuring width.
“What's she doing?” Aeo asked.
“I believe she's planning on making you a pair of boots,” Leon replied as Hala hopped back up.
“Oh, don't spoil the surprise, dear!” Hala said, playfully slapping Leon's arm. “Well. That's right, I'm going to make sure your feetsies never have to suffer out there again. Perhaps if I have more time, I'll knit you a fur coat to go along with it!”
“I know how big these projects are for Hala...” He lowered his hand as if measuring Hala, then whispered: “No pun intended.”
“Humph!” Hala said, pushing his hand away.
“She made my bedding and my boots,” Leon said, pointing to his own feet. “She quite the talented seamstress, all with bighorner fleece and buckskin.”
Aeo blinked. Real boots?
“No one’s… ever made anything for me before,” he said shyly. “Th-thank you, ma'am.”
“Oh, don't thank me just yet, my dear!” Hala placed the string and the black pebble back into the pouches on her belt. “You can thank me if I do the job correctly! Now, is it feeling a bit cold in here for everyone? No? Just me? Well, I'll just tend to the fire anyway, make sure it stays warm for the rest of the night...” She turned towards the campfire.
“Don't tire yourself out, Hala,” Leon said. “I can take care of-”
“Oh nonsense, you giant fool! Nonsense! It's what I'm here for. Well, the second thing I'm here for. Ha ha!”
Shera, remaining quiet, instinctively motioned herself closer against the cave wall, knowing what was coming. Just as Hala had done the morning before, Hala leaned over the fire and proceeded to take the biggest breath Aeo had ever seen. She held it in for a moment, then lurched forward and belched a bright red flame directly from her mouth into the smoldering campfire. Along with the fire dripped a strange liquid from her wide lips that burst and crackled when it hit the ground, bringing the fire to a bright and tempered glow. When finished, she turned to see all eyes pointed at her.
“Well, it's very impolite to stare!” she cried.
“In case you were wondering,” Leon said, leaning towards Aeo with the bandages. “Hala and her kind have very special talents for keeping warm. It's how they've adapted to the cold of the region, and it's how they hunt for fish. Their fire cooks the fish immediately, it's quite the sight. They swim in the springs and underwater currents of Falas, but live in the caves above the water. The unique oil they… well, belch...” to which Hala added another “humph!” “...can burn for hours at a time.”
<”And we're indebted to them,”> Shera added. <”Without them, Pick and I would no doubt freeze.”>
“Oh, it's no trouble! No trouble at all!” Hala said, reaching for the firewood pile. “Well, it isn't for me. Can't say the same my mate, Ziduf. Or his family. Or Heem, for that matter! Laziest toadies you'll ever see!”
Leon took his time, dabbing the red substance onto the bandages and around the worst colors of Aeo's feet. It tickled a couple of times. A good sign, of course: it meant they weren’t about to turn black and fall off. As Leon worked, Aeo patted Pick on the head and looked at the purple mist on the opposite wall. It shone all the more apparent in the low light of the campfire, and seemed to flicker with the dancing of the lit candles on the wall.
“Leon, sir,” Aeo said. “Could... Could you tell me about magick now?”
Leon smiled.
“Certainly. What did you want to know?”
Pick tilted his head.
<An image of a humil man producing fire from his hands.>
“Really?” Aeo pet Pick's head. “Leon can make fire like that?”
Leon laughed.
“If I wanted to tire myself out as fast as possible, yes,” he said. He paused, scratching his head. “I suppose I should start at the beginning, shouldn't I? Like my introduction classes all over again.”
Aeo didn’t know what he meant by that. Leon paused, scratching his arm.
“Magick is... understanding the basic principles and mechanics of the world around us. If you have a strong enough will, you can bend those rules to influence any number of things. Like fire, for instance, or keeping this cave the right temperature like you see with the wards. There are a lot of... mundane magics that can-”
“What's... mun-dane?” Aeo asked.
“Well, everyday things, boring things. Like boiling water, keeping torches lit, cooling down a hot room, that sort of thing. A lot of magic is mundane, especially where I come from. Not a lot of battles to be fought with fire and lightning.”
Aeo's eyebrows raised.
“...lightning?”
“Yes, lightning. Lightning is energy, much like fire. And with practice, energy can be used. Have you ever seen a lusphere? A simple application of energy, but brilliant in every way. It’s a glass sphere about the size of your hand that floats above you in the air. With a single spoken word, it lights up bright as the sun, and unlike a lantern, you never have to relight it or refuel it. I'm sure the folks in Olvaren would marvel at the sight of one.”
“As would we!” Hala said from the other side of the room. “I can't begin to imagine such a thing.”
“I've heard the rituals to produce them aren’t as complicated as you might think,” Leon said. “But the materials to craft them are rare. They can be quite expensive, and unfortunately, there are many forgeries out there that break at the slightest opportunity.” Aeo had never heard of such a thing, so he sat in quiet awe. “I doubt the everyman will ever be able to afford them. But could you imagine something as simple as a world without torchlight, fireplaces, and candles?”
Leon lifted a hand as he wrapped a bandage around Aeo’s foot.
“Anyway, I digress. Let's see... Someone that practices magic is called an apprentice or a scholar, and often the title means they actually study at an academy. Some people call us wizards, but that term is old and offensive. When a scholar performs magick, they call upon their animis to fuel it. Some scholars and apprentices have stronger animi than others - that’s the world for many animises, by the way. And when you practice magick, your animis can grow, like an acrobat who trains their muscles and flexibility. When you exhaust your animis, just like straining yourself in a long run, it can take a few days of rest to recover. If you overdo it, I've heard of scholars falling catatonic for two or three weeks, and even longer.”
“What's cat-a-tonic?”
“Like falling asleep but being awake at the same time... Not able to move at all.”
“That sounds scary,” Aeo said, wrinkling his nose.
Now finished with Aeo’s bandages, Leon placed the warm rubber bottles beside and beneath each foot, and covered the boy with the fur blanket.
“It can be. That's why magick should be a very careful practice. Take your time, study as much as you can. It's exercise. After all, it takes time to become strong and powerful, right?”
Aeo nodded.
“How powerful are you, sir?”
Leon laughed lightly, looking down.
“Not nearly as much as I’d like,” he admitted. “I can’t toss around lightning or throw fire about. My talents lie in less… dramatic fields of magick, such as alchemy and abjuration.”
“Ab-jur… ate-shun?” Aeo sounded.
“Like the wards,” Leon said, pointing to the shimmering purple magick along the far wall. “Now, not every scholar’s animis has the same potential. Some are talented at wards, like I am, making changes to the environment. Some have skills with elemental magic, like creating fire, lightning, ice, water, moving or sculpting stone. Some are good at healing... I wish I had such talents. If so, your frostbite would already be healed, I imagine.”
“Hmm,” Aeo said.
“Don't sell yourself short, now Leon,” said Hala. “Without these fancy wards and medicines of yours, why, we would all be much more sickly and much more cold.”
Both Shera and Pick growled in the affirmative.
“That's true. I should be grateful. I should be glad I don't have the skills to fight. I've never been one for violence. But other scholars and apprentices practice combat, especially those that protect important people, or big cities, or long roads. Even tiny villages like Olvaren call for protection sometimes, and scholars can be paid very well. Sellswords without an academy have to have a lot of strength when it comes to magic. It's difficult to maintain a strong animis, especially in the midst of battle. Without practice, you could expend all of your animis in one failed attack and become useless.”
“I'd love to fight with magick,” Aeo said. “Then I could...” He paused, choosing his words. “...I could go wherever I want.”
“I suppose that's true,” Leon replied. ”Most animals can be scared away with a bolt of lightning, and bandits think twice before robbing a man who can light them on fire.”
Aeo laughed.
“That's right!”
Leon scratched his face.
“Now, Aeo. There’s something I’d like to try.”
“Huh?”
Leon stood up slowly and approached the campfire as if reluctant to do so. If Aeo had seen his face, he would have seen a look of delicate focus. Aeo peeked over Pick's head. It looked as if Leon were playing with the flames.
“There we go...” Leon whispered.
“Oh, don't you go and catch the poor boy on fire! I won't forgive you! What makes you think Aeo can do what you do?” Hala shouted.
"Intuition," he said quietly.
Leon stepped back over to Aeo, his face illuminated by a strange light. No, not strange. Familiar. The same as the campfire. Leon sat down, and floating between his hands was a gentle flame. Pick suddenly lifted his head and backed away with a slight whimper. Shera looked up in interest.
“Whoa...” Aeo whispered.
“As I said,” Leon said, his voice quiet and tense. “All scholars... have a knack for different things. My specialty... is most certainly not elemental. So, this takes... more than a bit of concentration.”
Leon put his hands forward.
“Now. I want you to... hold your hands up. Like you're warming them. Hold them up.”
Aeo hesitated. He lifted his hands slowly as if he were holding an open book. He felt the fire's warmth and hoped Leon didn't simply dump the fire in his lap.
“There you go, there you go... Put his hands together a little bit more... Good.”
Leon sighed, and the fire danced in his hands as he breathed. His face looked strained.
“All right. I want you to... imagine warmth. Remember how it felt to feel the warm water bottles? Imagine that... Feel the fire warming up your hands.”
Aeo imagined it easily.
“As you're focusing on that,” Leon continued. “Imagine that warmth in between your hands. Take all the warmth in your body and imagine it going up your arms and between your hands... Can you do that?”
“I think so...” Aeo said quietly.
“Tell me when you're ready,” Leon replied.
Ready? For what exactly? Aeo sat there, arms raised and hands poised between a magical fire, and did his best to follow Leon's orders. Take all the warmth in my body... Aeo felt the water bottles in his feet and imagined it moving up his legs. Simple enough. He imagined it moving up into his spine and into his stomach and chest. Then into his shoulders and muscles, down his arms, into his hands, and between his fingertips... It was all imagination, though. It wasn’t actually doing anything. Was it?
A moment later, he cleared his throat.
“R-Ready...”
“Now lift your hands up. Think of the warmth between your hands, and don’t stop. Lift your hands.”
Aeo tried to lift his hands. They wouldn't move. He tried harder, straining even his back muscles to propel himself upwards. Nothing worked. Something was wrong.
Then Aeo looked: Leon's hands were gone.
In between his own two hands sat the small flame, dancing back and forth.
With every inhale, the flame would grow smaller and nearly disappear. Every exhale, it would grow larger and more powerful. He'd never seen anything as strange as this. So mesmerizing. His head suddenly felt very dizzy. But he couldn't fall backwards; the fire held him there. He simply watched it dance like a spinning flower, like a leafy tree blowing in the wind. It seemed to glow like the sun itself. He simultaneously did and didn't want to close his eyes at this glowing orb in his hands.
“I thought as much,” Leon whispered.
Then, as if some invisible thread pulled free, the fire allowed Aeo to move. His arms trembled from being raised, and try as he might, they slid backwards, bringing the fire closer to his chest. It didn't waver from the space between his cupped fingers, however. Despite feeling the flame’s warmth very near, the flame felt comforting, familiar.
Aeo's thoughts burned as bright as the flame. Comforting. As comforting as burning down the Gray Pale Inn. As comforting as receiving a beating. He remembered the dreams of the sun as the warmth fell down upon him, not burning and unbearable, but gentle and soft, the way moonlight felt on his face. He shouldn't be able to look upon that bright sun from his dreams with his naked eyes, yet he could, and he saw all the colors of rainbow inside that sun. They burned and danced all together like firelight. He could see the flames of the inn growing ever brighter, and he never wanted them to fade…
The memory made the flame in between his hands burn all the brighter. So bright, in fact, that the once small flicker became a larger ball of fire, dancing all the more wildly. He widened his hands as if to drop it, but the flames remained, flaring larger.
Aeo's jaw fell to the side and he held his breath.
“Uhh...”
“Wait, wait, wait...” Leon said quietly, quickly leaning over. He took Aeo's hands and slowly brought them together with his own. “Breathe normally, just breathe...”
Aeo did so. Aeo's hands slowly came together, and as they touched, the fire went out.
Pick howled.
<”Interesting,”> said Shera.
“It most certainly is,” Hala said with a gasp.
“Aeo,” Leon said, sitting back down. “Are you sure you haven't done this before?”
Aeo lowered his now shaking hands and stared at them. He said nothing.