Chapter 9
CHAPTER
Despite additional private lessons with Saryn, utilizing my dark abilities did not yet materialize symptoms of the Drift.
Just abject fatigue. Winter was officially in full force in the Elorn Mountains, but there was one particularly chilly afternoon where Saryn insisted that I join him privately on the flight deck.
“You’re not a Wind Wielder, that I know for certain,” he stated once we’d made it outside, pausing only a moment before continuing his assessment.
“The simplest execution of wind magic has evaded you, no matter how many times we’ve explored it.
Yet, there must be some innate form of it within you.
The sheer force with which you’ve executed the dark wielding must be intertwined with the elements. I see no other alternative.”
His logic made sense, but each time I’d reached for this particular element it had evaded my grasp.
With fire, I focused on the flame; I imagined I could feel the heat, even smell the smoke.
At times, all other sounds would deafen around me except for the slight crackle of the fire, whether it be from wood or wick.
I could feel fire; I sensed it, and thus I could bend it to my will.
It was the same with water. Any time I attempted to manipulate it, I would focus on the change in temperature; the cool relief of it washing over me. Water magic always felt fluid to me. It was safe and comforting, and I had no fear of it.
When I was outside, I could feel the wind.
I could see its effects, swirling strands of my hair, cutting across my cheeks, causing chills and raising goosebumps along my skin.
But it never felt tangible. No matter how much I focused, I couldn’t mentally touch it.
There was no way to reach out and grab it in the same way the other elements had lent themselves to me.
And once I was inside the stale and motionless air of Basdie, it seemed impossible to even detect its presence.
I shared this sentiment with Saryn in hopes that it would help formulate a theory as to why I couldn’t master it.
As if the idea quite literally struck him, he exclaimed, “Wait, have you tried to see the wind?”
“What do you mean ‘see’ the wind? It’s invisible. I can see the effects of it,” I replied, motioning my hand at the small flurries of snow cascading down the mountainside.
“It’s not invisible!” Saryn disagreed. “Or, so I’ve heard. Those most gifted in wind magic don’t need to feel it, because they can see it. That is why they can wield it even in the stillest of airs.”
I looked at him, confused and awaiting additional information. I was pretty sure I’d know if I could see the wind…wouldn’t I?
“I’ve read that Wind Wielders can see the normally imperceptible aspects of the element. It’s been described as a small glimmer or ripple, other times a shine. It’s about seeing the way light bends through air, and witnessing how it interacts with the other elements around it.”
I stared down into the valley, scanning my eyes across snow-covered treetops.
Vast, endless white. The occasional bird soaring across to break up the monotony.
I squinted, tilting my head, trying to see some indication of what Saryn described, but I detected nothing of the sort.
Everything was crystal clear. No glimmers, shimmers, ripples or otherwise. I loosed a frustrated sigh.
“Saryn, I don’t see anything like that.”
“Give me your coat.” He held out his hand, impatiently.
“No, it’s freezing out here. I need it.”
“I won’t ask again.”
Knowing it was more than just a threat, I reluctantly began to remove the fur-lined coat from my body and placed it over his arm. The frigid chill quickly sucked most of the warmth from my frame, and I hugged myself, trying to contain what little was left.
“Gloves.”
“Are you serious?” I asked through chattering teeth. Saryn just stared at me.
“Fine!” I said, removing the gloves angrily and handing—or practically throwing—them to him as well. “What now?” I asked, impatient.
“Until you can see the wind, you will sit out here every day from after breakfast until lunch. Freeze for all I care, but you will do this without question.”
Briefly, I thought to myself, How in the three moons of Demir would he even know if I lied? I could just tell him I saw it.
“I will know if you’re lying,” he snapped, clearly reading my mind, “and praise the Gods that Artume is a desert wasteland, since apparently a moment of cold has you forgetting your mental shields entirely. You’re going to get yourself fucking killed.”
I felt my jaw clench, frustrated at myself for having lapsed my shields, and at Saryn for being such an ass at every opportunity.
“Complete this task alone,” he said, turning on his heel, as if he were keenly aware that Varro would make an attempt to join me once he found out about this torturous assignment.
I found myself persistently glancing up at the sun, willing it to move swiftly—but to my utter dismay, it only shifted the minutest of degrees while I sat there freezing to death.
Saryn’s antics were bound to kill me, long before I ever got myself killed.
I despised the cold. I switched back and forth between sitting on the side of a rock—which only made me colder—and pacing while mumbling to myself.
Mostly, I thought of ways I’d like to hurt Saryn.
I might just grant myself that exploration with a Vesper if I made it through the remainder of the day.
I did everything from staring blankly at a single area for an extended period of time to intermittently scanning across the expanse. I searched the landscape for signs of the wind’s color, but there were only hints of dark green trees amongst whites and grays.
Half of the time I was distracted by the incessant sound of my own teeth chattering.
My once-pale skin was now irritated and red.
Rubbing my hands together had quickly become pointless.
I couldn’t feel my fingers, even if I shoved them into the bottoms of my trouser pockets.
My leather vest barely shielded me from the cold, and below it, my nipples were fully erect and beginning to burn in pain from the frigid air.
I removed any daggers fastened to my legs and laid them on the ground beside me, shedding the cold, unwelcome metal.
When the sun finally reached its destination in the sky, I trudged back inside, the sting of failure the only thing more biting than the cold.
Six days of excruciatingly long hours in the freezing cold.
Hours after spent defrosting by a fireside, with Varro bringing me hot cups of tea and cocoa to distract me from my anguish.
My skin dry and irritated, my lips chapped to the point of bleeding.
My once enjoyable trips to the healing pools now became required therapy to survive Saryn’s impossible task.
Varro was frustrated past the point of reason, knowing he could not assist with my endeavor.
Saryn would know if Varro tried to get close enough and used his Siren Song to relieve me of the discomfort.
Six days wrestling with my own mind, my own memories, and only the rustling of leaves, whistling of the wind and the occasional call of a hawk as it made its descent.
The isolation led my mind to wander places I had not allowed myself to for a very long time.
Comforting memories of my youth with Versa, turning the pages of our favorite books in the library; Chef’s extravagant desserts; Father’s cologne; Mother’s latest finery.
The longer I allowed myself to sink into the depths of those memories, the less I felt the numbness taking over my extremities.
They wrapped around me like a heavy blanket, protecting me, even now.
And it was in that moment, when I allowed myself to stare off into the distance thinking of the short life I had with my loved ones, that I saw a small glimmer cresting along the mountainside.
I blinked my eyes, thinking they had become dry from staring, but no matter how many times I tried, I could still see that vague glimmer.
I jumped to my feet and widened my eyes, trying to ensure they weren’t playing tricks on me.
Had I wanted to complete this task so badly that I was seeing things that weren’t real?
I scanned to the left, following the glimmer as it moved down the mountainside and up across the canopy of treetops.
The sparkles twinkled like tiny diamonds on the tips of each branch.
Patterns in the wind began to reveal themselves to me, detailed spirals weaving fluidly around every object that stood in their path.
The sight was distinctly harmonious. If land was the staff on a sheet of music, then the wind were the notes, placed delicately and intentionally.
“I see it!” I yelled in excitement. “I can see it!” I continued to shout into the void, no one there to hear me but the birds and hibernating creatures below.
Quickly, my sluggish limbs began to pump with blood from my elation.
All my screaming must have caused a commotion, because Saryn and Theory came running outside.
I grabbed Saryn by the shoulders, exclaiming, “I did it! I really can see it.”
Never in my time with Saryn had I ever touched him this way. Our only physical encounters were ones of training and sparring. I couldn’t contain my excitement, though, and I shook his shoulders as if trying to shake him into believing me.
“How am I supposed to believe you? How are we to be certain you haven’t just tired of the cold?” he asked, prepared for me to spin some elaborate lie.
Already irritated with his disbelief, I snapped back, “Fine, I’ll let down my shields and you can see for yourself, but I’m not lying!”
He looked at Theory, nodding a silent agreement to determine if I was telling the truth. Ignoring their distrust, I turned back to face the snow-filled valley.
I looked for the same signs, but they had dissipated, making me annoyed and even more frustrated with myself.
I tried staring blankly into the spot that it had formed the first time I noticed it, but nothing appeared.
Wracking my brain, trying to think how I had done it, I could tell Theory and Saryn were growing impatient with me.
But while they sifted through my thoughts of irritation and failure, they also had to see there was complete and undeniable belief in myself.
Trying to recreate that moment, I sighed, knowing the thoughts I was about to grant myself were not ones I ever wanted to share with the two of them. I inhaled deeply, closed my eyes, and began to let a whirlwind of memories unfold and wrap warmly around me.
The day my father walked back through our front doors from the rebellion at Erisas Bay, my sister and I running to hug him tightly.
My sister presenting me with our matching bracelets on our tenth namesake; the anticipatory smile on her face as I pulled the ribbon from the box containing the dainty braided metal.
My parents laughing as they waltzed by the fireplace after a solstice party, thinking no one was around to see it.
Riding Rain after a summer storm; his unbridled vigor pounding the wet earth with every stride, the wind cutting sharply across my face as he and I descended into a feeling of complete freedom, if only for a moment.
I could have basked in the warmth of those memories forever.
If only the winter of the Elorns could keep those moments perfectly formed in my mind, I’d settle for nothing more than becoming a frozen statue, caught permanently in the bliss of my former life.
A perfectly imperfect life, whose value I couldn’t see until it was no longer mine to keep.
I opened my eyes, staring out into the wide-open space before me, and blinked back the tears that had formed behind my eyelids.
At the far end of the mountain range, I could see the glimmer again, shining brightly only for my eyes to see.
A sly smile spread across my lips; I’d show them where they could shove their skepticism.
The west winds carried strong gusts from the shadowed side of the valley to the slopes bathed in sunlight.
The dustings of snow billowed in the same direction, causing the tall trees to bow as they caught the brunt of it.
Except now, the patterns that tethered these elements together were mine to control.
Turning to face east, I began to visualize their circles switching direction entirely.
The tree trunks made loud creaking noises and the rustling of branches now twisted wildly against the sudden change.
As I began to create a strong east wind, I sought to push its limits.
The rotating breeze swelled in intensity as I narrowed my focus to create a gale of wind so powerful that it blew away the snow from each treetop, leaving them trembling.
The tempest approached us and a rush of snow flew past Saryn and Theory, coating them in frost before scattering a layer of fresh powder along the mountainside.
As they shook off the chill, they too gazed out upon the vibrancy of a dark green forest below, one we had not seen since the first snowfall at Basdie.
Tall, strong trees, some of which had been born long before our ancestors, stood heads above the younger saplings surrounding them.
After the swaying of the trees settled, I considered summoning another windstorm from the other direction just to make my point, but instead I turned to Saryn and said simply, “I can see it now.”
Theory smirked, one raised brow at Saryn.
I retreated from them both, making my way inside, wondering how I’d ever be able to tap into the power they’d just witnessed should my memories fade.
Fate might decide that someday I would be drained of the very thing that seemed to feed the essence of my power.