Chapter Twelve #2
Clearly, Cormal could have done a lot better to follow Brannal’s example. But maybe it wasn’t too late.
“You’ve got an uphill battle,” Delana told him.
“I know,” he agreed. “But I don’t just need to try, I want to try.”
She nodded. “All right. Well, if you need backup, let me know.”
“Thank you,” he said, touched. “I think this is something I need to do on my own, but if I realize I’ve miscalculated—which, let’s be real, is all I’ve done for months—then I’ll know I can count on you.
And”—he looked her squarely in the eye—“I don’t think I ever said thank you for sticking with me.
Even though I was wrong, and you weren’t afraid to tell me that.
But you didn’t abandon me, even though I deserved it. Thank you.”
She patted his cheek.
“If I gave up every time you did something dumb, we’d never be friends.”
He scoffed and couldn’t help but smile at her, knowing that was her way of saying that they were going to stay friends. He needed to do a better job of earning it, though, and not simply expecting her to carry the load of supporting him.
“Well, I really appreciate it,” he told her. “And I’ll try to be a better friend. Maybe just… dunk me in the moat if I’m being so dumb that I’m in danger of destroying everything.”
Delana laughed outright. “Oh, you think that’ll work? I’ll remind you of this moment, and you’ll be all, ‘Oh, right, I totally said you could dunk me in the moat, let’s do this thing, and I won’t throw fireballs at anyone.’”
He was laughing helplessly now. “Yes, yes, do that. That’s absolutely how it will go.”
She rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling, and he was glad that she knew him so well. She reached out and squeezed his arm.
“Seriously, if there’s anything you need, let me know.”
He nodded. “I will. And same for you. I think I made everything about me for a long time.”
She nodded, considering him for a moment. “Don’t think I don’t know who makes sure my schedule is aligned as much as possible with Onadal’s.”
He gave her an innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She smiled at him. “I’ll see you later.”
He was possibly the only person in the castle who knew for absolutely certain that she and Onadal were definitely in a relationship—because he’d walked in on a scene that had made this explicitly clear.
He’d kept his mouth shut, and he hadn’t engaged in any of the endless speculation that was rife through the castle.
He always acted like it was beneath him to speculate on such things—why would he care?
—and he’d apparently done a convincing job of it.
He ran interference, when it looked like he could help, and he’d let them live their life.
If he were being perfectly honest, he’d been a little envious that they’d managed to quietly achieve a perfectly functional relationship, but more than anything, he wanted Delana to have that.
She’d apparently noticed. Maybe he was only a mostly awful friend.
Before he tried to talk to anyone else, he needed to get through more letters and reports.
He did still have a job to do, even if part of him was chafing at doing any of it now that Kinan had pointed out that it wasn’t actually something he had to do.
Part of him wanted to run to the Queen and resign this instant.
But Molun hadn’t been totally wrong, either.
Cormal had been thinking about what he wanted more than he’d been thinking about the consequences of those wants.
He might not be the best choice for Summus, but he had accepted the position.
Leaving the Mage Warriors in the lurch didn’t show that he was doing anything smarter or wiser or more caring, now did it?
Maybe he needed to start a little smaller.
He’d see if he could convince one other person that he was genuinely sorry for what he’d done.
It might be cowardly, but he was still feeling a little bit…
bruised by the encounter with Molun, so he started with writing a letter to Nisal.
Maybe it was the fact that they couldn’t yell to his face, or maybe that he would be putting his best effort in and then wouldn’t have to hear what they thought about it immediately (or ever, if they decided not to respond to him).
But it was useful to put his thoughts on paper.
He tried to frame it in terms of any direct harm he’d done to Nisal as well as their friends.
Maybe their decision to leave the Mage Warriors was a coincidence—or maybe Cormal’s actions had been the main reason.
He hoped they were happy with the Mages, and he made sure to indicate that the Mage Warriors were the lesser for their absence.
There. It wasn’t perfect, and it might not get any sort of result, but there was something about actually saying the words—or putting them to paper—that made him feel better.
He hoped this wasn’t just an exercise in him trying to make himself feel better.
He wanted to make the others feel better, too, although perhaps that was just wishful thinking on his part.
Had the damage that he’d wrought been too powerful?
He hoped they at least wouldn’t assume like Molun that he was up to something again. Well, only time would prove that wasn’t the case.
He blew out a breath.
He didn’t feel like he was making enough progress, but he knew that was his impatience talking.
Kinan and Delana had both forgiven him. Molun had not.
That was two out of three, which was probably better odds than he deserved.
Nisal was a question mark for the moment.
Should he try talking to Arvus next? He was sure that Molun would explain exactly what had happened to his partner, and if Arvus wasn’t upset directly at Cormal, he’d be upset by the impact he had on Molun.
He’d give them a few days to calm down and then reassess.
After about an hour with paperwork, he went to check on the novice training.
Not to interfere, just to observe. Brannal had once told Cormal that it was like fire had a life of its own, different from any of the other elements.
He was the only person Cormal knew who could actually compare all of the elements and what it felt like to wield them.
(Yet one more reason that they were the poorer for having lost him. No wonder Molun thought Cormal was trying to ruin everything.)
Cormal eyed the group. There were three Water Mages in training at the moment, as well as an Air Mage.
Arvus and Simiala were supervising, and they seemed to have things well in hand.
Simiala was one of their main instructors, but Arvus was on a teaching shift like all the Mage Warriors had to cycle through.
Brannal had instituted the change when he became Summus, wanting everyone to remember what it was like to learn, and to help the novices connect with all the Mage Warriors.
Arvus wasn’t looking at Cormal like he wanted to bury him in the ground, which probably meant that he hadn’t talked to Molun yet. Cormal briefly considered trying to say something now but decided that was an underhanded move that would do him no favors.
Although, now he thought about it—
He’d made it all about him again, hadn’t he?
He headed all the way into the classroom.
“A moment of your time, please, Arvus.”
Simiala nodded at the other man to indicate that she was fine with the class.
Arvus raised an eyebrow at Cormal, and Cormal ushered him out in the hallway before speaking.
“I think you should go see Molun.”
Arvus straightened even straighter than normal. “Is he all right—?”
“Physically, he’s perfectly fine,” Cormal hastened to assure him, feeling stupid for not clarifying that straight away.
“Let’s just say that I was my usual self this morning, and I upset him without meaning to.
I think he would benefit from seeing you, that’s all. I can work with Simiala and the class.”
Arvus was looking at him strangely.
“Go,” Cormal said. “You can help Molun dump me in the moat later.”
There was worry in the man’s eyes but the faintest quirk to his lips as he nodded and left. Cormal felt a little bit better, and he hoped that Arvus would be able to make Molun feel better.
Cormal headed back into the classroom, striding up to stand beside Simiala. She would no doubt be fine on her own, but Cormal was here now, and maybe it was time he tried to do a lot of things differently.
“As you all know,” Cormal told the students, “I can’t be useful at all when it comes to helping you feel what you should when it comes to water or air. I don’t control either of those elements. But, there’s one thing I can definitely help with.”
He summoned a fireball, forming it between his two hands until it was big and crackling, the heat a comfort to a Fire Mage where it would have been unbearable to anyone else. Everyone was staring.
“One of the first things you should learn as a Mage is how to put out a fire. It might be a Fire Mage who’s lost his temper—if you haven’t heard that yet, it’s definitely not just a rumor that I’m a hothead—or it might be a fire that’s sprung up naturally.
But you should always know how to put it out, and you should be able to react quickly, because fires can get out of control very easily. ”
They were still staring at the fireball in his hands. None of the elements conjured in your hands was natural, of course, but fire was always the most eye-catching.
“So,” Cormal prodded, “what are you waiting for? There’s a fire right here in front of you. What do you do?”
For a moment, nothing happened, and then a trickle of water fell onto the flames, making them splutter but not go out.
“Not good enough!” he told them. “Come on, what if it were your house on fire?”
And with a rush of sound, a deluge of water poured down, soaking him entirely and putting out the fire. They all stared at him in shock as the water dripped from his clothing and skin.