Chapter Fourteen #2
Kinan was still talking, but it was like there was a shield up between them, and Cormal couldn’t quite make everything make sense.
But he was trying, because his hands were shaking, and there were fireballs in them again, and if he didn’t focus on something else, he was pretty sure horrible things would happen.
The world around him was a blur as he moved, but he could try to concentrate on Kinan’s voice.
“You see,” Kinan said, voice taut but somehow kind, too, “we know all about that. We don’t mind if Mages lose their tempers from time to time.
Of course, we want to teach everyone control, but we know that doesn’t come instantly.
And even once you’ve learned control, it can still be compromised by big shocks.
“I didn’t know Tramad that well; I was sixteen when he died, but he was my mother’s Summus, so I saw more of him than most children would have.
I didn’t expect any news like this, and Cormal clearly didn’t either.
Truthfully, it’s not been an easy few months for Cormal, and I think this was kind of a tipping point.
And you know, sometimes, all you can do is lob fireballs, and you just need to go somewhere where it’s safe to do that.
And in the meantime, Water Mages help a lot, as you can see.
But we’ve got places that are safe for Fire Mages, too. Yes, here it is. Cormal. Cormal!”
Cormal managed to focus enough to see where Kinan had brought him. Thank all the elements. He rushed past everyone and put them out of his mind. He had to get the fire out.
With a howl of rage and pain, Cormal hurled flames at the wall over and over and over again.
It felt like lava was eating through his veins, and he screamed all the things that he thought of his father for keeping all these secrets, for thinking that he could just discard people if they weren’t the way he wanted.
He screamed until he was hoarse, until he was finally curled up against the wall and crying.
A hand touched his arm tentatively, and Cormal’s head snapped up, terrified. He blew out a breath in relief. Thank all the elements, it was one of the only people who could be in this room with him.
Despairingly, he remembered that he’d been trying to make a good first impression.
The green eyes had bred true in her, though she didn’t look much like her great-grandfather otherwise.
Her nose was small and pointed, as was her chin.
Her hair was a beautiful strawberry blond instead of the wild red that Cormal possessed, like there was always a flame lit on top of his head.
Weirdly, she was looking at him with an expression of sympathy that he surely didn’t deserve.
Kinan was hovering just behind her, and he looked deeply worried.
Molun and Delana were both at the entrance behind a water shield that they let drop now that Cormal wasn’t incinerating the room. Everyone else was peering in anxiously.
The girl—his grand-niece—patted the arm that she’d touched.
“It’s going to be all right,” she told him. Then she confided, “That’s what grandpapa says whenever I lose my temper.”
Cormal smiled at her, trying to blink back the tears. “And is everything all right?”
She nodded. “It usually is. He’s pretty smart.”
“I’m glad,” Cormal told her.
All he could see was the father of his childhood, who would not have reacted in such a tolerant way to Cormal’s outburst. But it wasn’t Tramon’s fault he looked like the father who had abandoned him.
And given how Cormal had turned out compared to Tramon, maybe that abandonment was actually the best thing that could have happened to the other man.
Cormal sniffed, scrambled for a handkerchief, and scrubbed at his face.
It was suddenly wet, and he nodded towards the Water Mages, grateful he could get the salt off his face.
He sat up, so even though he was still on the floor, it was almost like they were having a proper conversation instead of dealing with him in the aftermath of a temper tantrum.
“I’m really sorry you had to see that,” Cormal told her. What had her grandfather called her? Livala? “I intended to make the best first impression. You’re the first novice since I became Summus. I didn’t mean to make my problems more important than what’s happening to you. I apologize.”
Livala shrugged. “I gotta come here, don’t I?”
“What? No,” Cormal hastened to assure her.
She shot him a look. “You think the Mages want me setting their books on fire?”
Cormal huffed. “That might make them a little nervous, but they’ve got Water Mages just like we do.
I bet they have rooms like this, too. If you choose to be a Mage Warrior, then we’d be very lucky to have you.
But if you’d rather be a Mage, then I’m sure it would be to their benefit.
If I’ve convinced you that this is the dumbest place to be ever, then we can try to set you up with a Mage who will tutor you wherever you are.
I can ask around if that interests you, I promise. ”
Once Cormal stopped being Summus, maybe he could do it—but probably best not to muddy the water with that offer just yet.
Staring into eyes that were so much like his own, he assured her, “If you want to start here and then you realize it’s not for you, you can go to the Mages later, or the other way around.
Just a few months ago, we had someone decide they didn’t want to be a Mage Warrior anymore, even though they’d done it for years.
It can take time to figure out where you fit in, and that’s all right. ”
She was staring at him avidly, looking like she’d started to hope but wasn’t sure if she should. “But what else could I do with fire?”
Cormal’s father had never given him any of these options, and he took great delight in laying them all out before Livala.
“Well, first, you don’t have to do anything with it if you don’t want to.
You must learn to control it, but after that, if you decide you’re only going to use it to light candles and lamps, that’s your choice.
If you want to help your town have the best Fire Festival ever but you want to spend the rest of your time building furniture or teaching or baking or farming, you can do that.
If you don’t want to be a Mage Warrior, you could work in a city and help the Water Mages if a fire occurs.
Some Fire Mages clear old growth or destroy buildings to enable new builds.
You don’t have to use it to fight if you don’t wish to do so. ”
She was regarding him with narrowed eyes. “But it’s good in a fight.”
“It can be very useful,” Cormal agreed. “Not a lot of things can stand up to fire. But that doesn’t mean you have to use it.
Fire Mages might be able to control fire the easiest, but it’s not like everyone else can’t make fire, too.
It can be dangerous, though, so I would recommend that you stay here or that you stay with the Mages, at least to start. ”
“Do the Mages have any Fire Mages right now?” she asked.
“I’m not actually sure,” he admitted. “Fire Mages are the rarest.”
And she wasn’t wrong about the Mages at the Great Library not being in love with fire.
“So doesn’t that mean I should use it to fight, if it’s so rare?”
He shook his head emphatically. “You should use it for what makes you happy. You don’t have an obligation to anyone else. If you want to protect people, then we’d be happy to have you, like I said, but you aren’t locked into any fate just because you can control fire.”
His father had told Cormal and Brannal the exact opposite. He’d gone on and on about the responsibility that they had, and it had taken Cormal far too long to realize what nonsense that was.
Control. Control was the only thing they needed to learn—and it seemed like Cormal hadn’t done such a great job of that.
He’d worked so hard to live up to his father’s impossible expectations that it had broken everything else.
Maybe he couldn’t fix everything for himself, but he would do what he could to make the road smoother for Livala. His great-niece.
“Does anyone else here control fire?” she asked.
He shook his head, swallowing thickly. “Just me.”
She nodded like that made the decision for her. She slipped her hand into his. “Then I’m staying.”
He held onto that hand, smaller than his own, but solid and certain, and told himself his eyes were stinging because of all the fire he’d been throwing a few minutes ago.
“That’s very nice of you. I think you should probably talk to your family first. And remember, if you change your mind, that’s totally all right. Sometimes, it takes you a while to realize that the thing that you thought was the right thing is actually the wrong thing.”
She blinked at him. “Is everything always really complicated with you?”
This surprised a bark of laughter out of him. “It used to be easier, but I think that was just because I was being a stubborn ass and not seeing any other points of view. So yes, I’m pretty sure that everything is complicated with me.”
She nodded, accepting this with the ease of childhood—or maybe just with more wisdom than Cormal possessed even now.
She squeezed his hand and then let go and climbed to her feet, so he rose as well. Right, because they totally had an audience. He’d forgotten, somehow. He cleared his throat.
“So, this is, uh, the work room that my father made for moments like this. Livala, you can always come here and lob fireballs if you need to. Or if you feel like it’s the safest place to practice, you can do that. Kinan might have said all that already; I was mostly not processing, sorry.”
He sent Kinan an apologetic smile, but the man just smiled gently at him.