Eternal Winter

Cold Beginnings: Part III

Training, itself, was not as pleasant as my eagerness had made it out to be. The first step was to walk inside, then to trek through snow, then to chop firewood, then to pull my weight, then to hunt food. It was a series of trying, falling, arguing, and trying again. Never once was I without frustration and pain. Never once was I away from the verge of giving up, wishing to return to days of stories, of blank memories. Yet, never once did I do any of it alone. That first memory of the cold and the emptiness...that was not a life for Lyra. Lyra was not weak. Lyra was strong and capable and dependable and able. I was able to pull my bow and hit the mark, to set the trap and snare a meal, to walk for miles surrounded by the cold and silence and feel relief at seeing the outside of my home.

Time passed and I grew. Yet, we still hadn't learned why. The inevitable question that drove me awake in the early light of the morning. It was on one of these mornings, I came to find Teacher already awake in the next room, seated on a cushioned seat, facing the large window to the surrounding forests of Olym. The trees were waving with their sturdy branches. I perched on the arm of a nearby chair and waited to catch his attention. He finally came around and gave me an odd stare. His mouth was twisted and his eyes pensive. My leg bounced ever so lightly as I waited for him to speak up.

After a few minutes of the two of us sitting in silence I frowned and got to my feet. It was so simple to walk into the kitchen and start the fire that the memory of my frantic crawl here was a different memory. I heated up some water and brewed tea for the both of us. The bright light reflected in the clouds was a sign that the sun was now cresting the horizon. As I handed off the cup to Teacher, he spoke up.

"I see you have no difficulties in lighting the kitchen fire," he commented as he took a sip.

I shrugged. "It was never really difficult itself. It's the staying up and moving for so long that was the hard part."

"And the trees, they bend to your will well now," he continued.

I arched an eyebrow at him. "Well, yeah, it's about picking the right one, you told me that." I gave a sly smirk. "I'd say I'm even better at setting snares than you are." He gave this a moment of pause. His eyes still focused out the window. My humor quickly dwindled. "What are you getting at, Teacher?" I asked.

He glanced down into his steaming mug. "The frozen waters flow at your touch and the winds shift to your desire."

"All that, you taught me, remember? To pick at the thinner ice for quicker access. To feel the winds to track animals without them noticing," I retorted to his strange ramblings. I shook my head. "So, why mention these things?"

He sighed. "I believe...you possess magic, child." My heart skipped a beat at his words and I abruptly stood from my seat. He held a hand up for me and turned his concerned stare on me. "However, it is strange. I do not understand the nature of it."

"What do you mean?" I asked. There was a pit in my stomach where anxiety, frustration, and excitement fought. "You don't understand? But...but you're a Great Wizard! One of the five best wizards of Mysti!"

He nodded and set the mug down on the short table before him. "You remember what I taught you of the Arts?"

"That was so long ago, and it's basic knowledge to me now. That doesn't answer my questions, though," I whined. It was unlike me to be this demanding...but something was wrong, and he wasn't telling. "Teacher...don't leave me in the dark."

His mouth twisted and he stood on shaky legs. "Tell me of the five Arts and I will explain." He waved me towards the door where our outdoor gear awaited.

I sighed and complied, reciting the teachings I had been taught weeks within my arrival of the five Arts. Crafting, Dividing, Shifting, Manipulating, and Elemental Control, or Nature as Teacher described it. I explained this, now shouting over the strong winds that roared around our small area and kicked up small snow flurries. Once he was convinced, he nodded to me and then at the tree line.

"Gather some wood. We will prepare a fire and prepare water, here," he stated.

I frowned, unsure of what he was about to initiate. "In this wind? Without any protection? That's not possible!" He didn't say anything, only looked my way with an arched brow. I sighed. I grumbled. And then I complied, silently simmering over the sudden test of my practical skills.

In no time, the forest provided. I had a handful of dry twigs, leaves, and enough fuel for the fire. I ran back to him, hiking my legs up high enough to avoid tripping in the deep snow. I dropped my bundle to the side and cleared an area of the snow to reach hardened dirt beneath. I set up the wood in a small triangle formation and turned to Teacher for affirmation.

"Light the fire," he reprised.

The gloves were pulled off my hands. I kept my body between the little triangle of sticks and the winds before rubbing two sticks together quick enough to spark the dry debris. I continued to shield it until I could build it up a little higher and a little stronger. When I went to stand, the wind violently shook the flames and I had to crouch again to prevent it from going out. I murmured irritable phrases at the dancing light.

I heard Teacher shout from behind me, "How will you keep it burning long enough to melt snow in this wind?"

I threw a glare at him. Not even bothering to answer his question, I built up a small wall of snow that would protect the fire long enough for me to retrieve a pan. I hurried inside the house, without removing any gear, grabbed a pan from the kitchen, and stomped back outside. A small moment of pride filled me at seeing my fire still blazing. I scooped up a handful of snow with the pan and thrust it over the open flame. It melted in no time.

With the snow melted, the fire made, and protected, I set aside the pan without sloshing the water inside and stood tall before Teacher. I was the same height and straightened myself out more to seem more imposing. "I did your test. Now, I would like answers."

He nodded once more at my work before turning his eyes to me. No more was the stern, critical eye that had examined me the last several minutes. Instead, his eyes were soft and there was a gentle smile on his face. Within his eyes, though, was a fear. He still didn't understand, regardless of what he was about to say—this I knew. It didn't sit well.

"You are a magician in the Art of Nature, Lyra. This test was proof of such," he finally admitted. At my scrunched face, he went on. "I would not have been able to complete such tasks in as timely a manner as you. The elements help you and follow you. You are their child and guide." I remained speechless as he tried to explain the things that led him to this conclusion.

I tugged my hat lower onto my ears feeling as if the wind had grown stronger and was now pelting thin points of ice at me. At my movement, my fire grew wild and died. The pan of water next to it was frozen into a solid mass. The snow wall caved in over the makeshift fire pit and doused the steaming wood. The howling picked up and the next thing I knew, Teacher was directly beside me, guiding me into the house.

Once inside, the silence pressed in. My voice remained quiet in it, "You don't understand...because I connected with all four of them. Isn't that right?"

Teacher paused for a short moment and then nodded. "Every other known magician of the Art of Nature...can access and control one element. I have not heard of anyone other than the Master Magician of legends be capable of such."

"He's just a myth, though," I argued in a weak voice. "What does this mean for me?"

"I do not know..." Teacher let out a low hum and turned a smile to me. "Although, I do know, with practice, we shall learn."

I brightened up and closed my eyes with a small smile on my face. Teacher was smart, he knew everything. Everything he didn't know, he learned. He would surely learn about this, too. And I would alongside him.