Artturi Focus

Chapter Five

Wybren Academy prides itself in its state-of-the-art facilities for the enjoyment of all staff, faculty, and students. Located in the west side of the Asgell Hall is the Bol Auditorium which is frequently put in use for plays, presentations, and--

A rather peculiar sound took Artturi away from the content within the Wybren Academy handbook. Not that it really impacted much of his reading experience. Truth be told, he hardly read through the entire book with much dedication. New scenes graced his vision at every corner. Just yesterday, he had passed by a river that was so clean, one would think it was empty unless they stepped in. The day before that, he saw the biggest pine tree he had ever seen a distance away, jutting out from a dense and imposing forest. If he were younger, he would have probably begged to stray from their path and run over to climb it. As much as he had wanted to give his undivided attention to all that Wybren Academy had to offer before reaching there, he first needed to give that attention to the new world around him. After being outside Chrossili once, he realized what a fool he had been for ever imagining that he'd be content in one place.

But back to the peculiar sound.

Artturi twisted his head to the person laying down in the hay next to him, sleeping just as deeply as the time he had first seen him. With much luck, Llewellyn and Artturi came across a hay-filled cart and a generous driver offering to take them down the road and up to the nearest village. Currently, Llewellyn had found himself a comfortable spot in the hay, and while he rarely snored, sometimes he would let out an audible "hmpf" before twisting around to sleep on his other side. Based on the five days they had been traveling, Artturi had surmised that the man was chronically sleep-deprived, which was only more believable seeing the faint dark circles under his eyes, with one exception. It was that exception alone that explained why Llewellyn urged them to leave incredibly early.

Llewellyn was hopelessly directionally-challenged. It was an unfortunate thing that even he was aware of. Whenever Artturi inquired the professor on a new topic, Llewellyn would go on and on-- mind you, with very interesting and understandable information; leaving room for questions along the way. However, those topics became the only thing he could think about until he would stop in his tracks, look around, scratch the back of his head abashedly, and tell Artturi that they missed a turn. They were finally a day's hike away from Flodau after what had been a five day journey, and the only reason why it hadn't taken the anticipated seven days was because Artturi had gotten into the habit later on of stopping and tapping on the professor's shoulder everytime they came to a fork in the road. It was a little reassuring for him. Knowing this, getting to Chrossili by foot could take three days in actuality. While he wasn't exceptional at riding horses, maybe Artturi could even push that number to a single day. He supposed he should have been fortunate to take it slow and steady to really absorb all of the sights in before then.

"Artturi," Llewellyn said, half-yawning, as he sat himself upon the hay. He groggily gazed at the farmland around them. "Where are we?" A cow mooed from behind a fence next to the cart. "Heh," he chuckled quietly.

Artturi closed the book and put it back in his bag, being careful not to lose Mari's folded up "gift". He followed Llewellyn's line of sight. "Uh, Mr. Glines, I am not sure. I think we passed three orchards since you fell asleep."

"Lechen village is just up ahead."

At first, Artturi jumped at the sudden sound before realizing that of course there would be another voice here. The one belonging to the driver. He faced the front of the cart with wide eyes as, indeed, a small village came into view. What started as wide eyes filled with wonder quickly turned into wide eyes filled with horror.

The driver scratched the side of his cheek. "It doesn't look like much. Lechen has been hit really hard by the drought, lads. But, it's a decent place to stop-"

Whatever he had said afterwards was lost to Artturi's ears. Yes, he had noticed that the orchards that they had passed by earlier were on the smaller side, and yes, there were only a sparse number of animals by the road, but seeing the state of the dried up vegetables in the gardens as they neared the village during what should've been the peak of the harvest season caught him off guard. All of a sudden, he became hyper-aware of every little detail. The cows lumbering by the fence were so thin that their ribcage prodded out. With every step they took, dust followed in their wake, signifying weak soil underfoot. It was like he had been glamoured by the fae to see only a dream that they had wanted him to see until now. Or maybe he was always glamoured by the good and fortuneous life he was able to live in Chrossili.

"Is it this bad everywhere?" He whispered.

Llewellyn sighed. "It has been getting better, but not by much. As we get further north, this sight can be an unfortunate commonality."

For the first time since leaving Chrossili, Artturi felt a new emotion welling up in him: anger. He breathed in and out rapidly as the cart slowed to a stop in front of the village gateway. "Why hasn't anyone done anything about it, professor?" He hopped down from the cart before the driver could say anything without offering any thanks, something that he would never have done in any other situation.

Llewellyn slid down after him, saying thanks to the driver instead, before chasing after Artturi. "Artturi, I-"

"I have to do something!" Artturi rapidly spun around, looking for the nearest well. In the middle of the village sat one made from cobblestones, boarded up. Without waiting for Llewellyn, he sped up to the well. A pair of children by the well jumped from where they were sitting and stood at attention.

"Halt, newcomer!" A boy with a little brush of a ponytail said, pointing at Artturi.

Artturi blinked, before realizing how uncomposed he had been. He took a deep breath and turned around. Llewellyn was following behind, a worried expression on his face. Artturi faced the ground, continuing to catch his breath. Why was he being so emotional now? He was never like this at home. This place just felt... wrong. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He looked up at the children.

Two boys, no older than ten stood side-by-side. Well, kind of. One of them was inching a little more behind the one with the ponytail. Artturi hoped that he hadn't scared him.

"Uh, hello," Artturi said with a small smile, bending his knees slightly. "I'm sorry."

The boy with the ponytail shook his head. "It's okay, mister. Who are you?"

"We are just passerbys." Llewellyn had finally caught up to Artturi, intercepting into the conversation. "My friend here was curious about what your village had to offer and, my, it looks like it has two brave defenders of the well!"

The boy huffed and put his hand on his hips. "We are royal guards!"

"Um, I thought we were the king's soldiers," corrected the boy behind him.

The boy with the ponytail paused. "We are the king's royal soldier guards here to defend-"

"And protect!"

"All of Lechen Village," the boys exclaimed in unison. They beamed in success at what was probably a wonderful introduction by their standards.

They are just like Mari, Elain, and Grwn, Artturi thought. His smile faltered in shock before returning more genuine than before. Maybe all was not bad. He moved his hand to his chest. "Noble defenders, I am Artturi. And this is..." He motioned toward Llewellyn.

He followed Artturi's lead. "Llewellyn, the lowly hermit, at your service." He seemed to be really getting into this role.

The boy's mouth opened into an 'o' when Llewellyn's bejeweled hand exited from his cloak-- a brown rag that he had decided to wear once they were farther away from Chrossili. "Well, Artturi and Llewellyn the lowly hermit, we think you are good guys. We would share this well water with you..." Artturi's eyes glimmered with hope. "But we can only share a hand's full. That's what my mommy said."

Artturi's eyes dimmed. There was no way he could take any, even if he was parched. He waved his hands. "It is alright. We are not thirsty. Thank you so much for your generosity."

"No problem!" The boy replied back.

"Royal guard soldier kings," Llewellyn started, already messing up the order of their made-up titles. "No. King's royal soldier guards." The kids gave him a thumbs up. "Where would your matriarch or patriarch be?" After seeing the confusion on their faces, he quickly added, "Or your village chief?"

"Oh! She'd be up there." The boy pointed toward a house across from the well that was slightly bigger than the rest. "I think she's home. Do you know her?"

"No," Llewellyn shook his head. "I would like to speak with her if that's alright. I'll put in a good word for you."

"Gee, thank you, mister!"

Artturi leaned toward Llewellyn's ear and whispered. "I am going to fill up this well. Please distract them." It was the perfect plan. Artturi didn't want to be treated as a savior and disappoint everyone when he admitted that he couldn't stay. With a few minutes, Artturi was sure that he could use his miraculous water focus to give the villagers a few days of relief, hope, and faith in the gods. It felt a little cruel, but he would promise himself to return every so often until they could get back on their feet.

Llewellyn wrapped his arm around Artturi's shoulder. "No. Thank you!" He exclaimed to the kids, before walking away with Artturi in tow.
The boy hiding behind his compatriot pulled on his friend's sleeve. "We should warn them..."

"Oh, yeah! Mister!" The boy with the ponytail called out and Llewellyn looked back. The boy held up his little hand and pointed at his fingers. "There's a group of older almost-grown-ups that call themselves the Lechen Lions that mommy told us not to mess with. They like taking things that aren't theirs and they're really strong."

Llewellyn looked down at his own hand, and gave a curt nod, signifying that he understood their message. "Thank you, once again, for your honesty and awareness. Keep up the good work!" He let go of Artturi's shoulder once they were closer to the matriarch's house and hid his hands under his cloak. He then faced Artturi. "I understand how you must be feeling right now, but I highly discourage you from trying out your focus here. You will only be disappointed."

He couldn't believe it. Was Llewellyn telling him to let these people suffer? "What do you mean? If you distract them, they'll never know it was me! You're telling me to just leave them like this without doing anything?" His voice rose higher in volume with every sentence.

Llewellyn pulled both of his hands out from under his cloak once again and held down Artturi's shoulder as his composure began to fall apart once again. "Take a deep breath, Artturi. The way you are now, you won't be able to help them out the way that you want to. Now, please, stay here as I go inside and speak with the matriarch."

Artturi followed Llewellyn's instructions and took a deep breath as he left him behind and knocked on the door. Maybe he hadn't understood what Llewellyn meant at first. Whenever he did use his water focus in Chrossili, Artturi recalled that he was always calm. Then again, he never saw a sight like this. He walked to the side of the matriarch's house where a field of gourds sat withered on dusty soil. He was right: If he wanted to help the village, he needed to be calm. Until Llewellyn came back from inside the matriarch's house, the least he could do was water her squash.

Lifting up a hand, Artturi took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He thought about his life in Chrossili. Miss Paderau's gentle smile. Fresh apples and their juices sliding down his chin. Mari's questionable antics. A smile began to form on his face and he thanked the stars for blessing him with a water focus. Then, he prayed for water.

And he waited.

And waited.
Artturi slowly opened his eyes to see not a drop on his palm nor on the ground below. He flicked his hand. "Water," he said, hoping that his words would materialize it into being. "Water!" He switched to his other hand and saw similar results. Be calm. Be. Calm. "Please."

There was no water. The warm flow that he used to feel back when he was in Chrossli was gone. His focus had vanished.

Artturi began to panic. "Water!" Nothing. He clapped his hands together. He knelt to the ground, pressing his hand against the dirt. "Water! Water!" Still nothing. He stood up again, circling the little plot of land and covering his mouth with his hands. Why isn't it working? His vision began to blur. "Work already!" He slapped his hand against his other wrist. "Nononono! I'm calm!" If his focus wasn't working, then going to Wybren Academy would be all for naught. He'd go back to Chrossili in shame. What if it had stopped forever? Was this a punishment from the heavens for ever deciding to leave? He couldn't go back if that was the case! His focus was a part of him. It was him. Then, he began to scratch the palm of his hands, until they turned red from his nails. Maybe I need an opening. Maybe-

"Artturi, stop!" A firm hand settled on his shoulder. Artturi blinked, looking down at his palm. A small stream of blood was beginning to form from where he had scratched it too hard. Llewellyn turned him around. "Please. Stop."

Artturi looked up into his dark amber eyes. His eyebrows curved upwards in sadness and fear. But Artturi still couldn't calm down. "Mr. Glines. My focus. It's-" He struggled to finish the sentence. "Gone."

"It's not gone."

"Then why won't it work!?" He tried taking a step back, but Llewellyn kept his hand down. "I tried being calm. I tried thinking about my family and friends. The vibrant orchards. My home!"

"But this isn't your home!" Artturi's mouth opened and closed without any words to say. "That is why your focus does not work here."

Llewellyn was right. He was a fish out of water. Outside of Chrossili, he was weak, like a newborn deer trying to stand on its own for the first time. But that still didn't explain anything. "Did I... lose it?"

"You didn't lose it. When you go back to Chrossili, it will still be there," Llewellyn said.

"Then why..."

Llewellyn stared sadly at Artturi. "Let's move away from here as we speak."

Artturi could only nod, still staring at the blood in his palm.

The kids by the well were gone and the driver with the hay was no longer by the gate. Once they reached the edge of the road, Llewellyn began to speak again. "Do you know what you need to use a focus?"

A quiz? Artturi prodded his brain. "You need stamina and have to be in tune with your surroundings. That means you need to be calm." The blood on his hand had dried up, and his vision had returned to normal.

"Forgive me for asking a question while you are so grievous. You are partially correct-- You must have stamina, which is not something that you struggle with, but being calm is not a necessity. It is recommended, but there are many who fight with anger while wielding one," Llewellyn explained.

"Then, what am I missing?"

"It's something that cannot be easily obtained, but Wybren Academy may be able to help you," Llewellyn continued. "What you are missing is spirit."

"Spirit? But I thought I had spirit water." Artturi gazed up at him.

"I am speaking of a different kind of spirit; one that is built from feeling a connection with the world around you. So, kind of like feeling in tune with your surroundings, but deeper than that. You have to feel like every place is your home."

Every place is my home? It's true that Artturi never felt at home in Lechen. There were traces of it with the energy of the kids, but it could never compare to Chrossili.

"When you use a focus," Llewelleyn began. "You are communicating with the stars, the spirits, nature, yourself, and your actions all at once. Everything should come naturally and everything should flow smoothly through your blood. That is why learning a focus and truly refining it is a difficult process. Worst of all, sometimes nature is not on your side and the position of the heavenly bodies can lead to a weaker output. But even the cruel can force themselves to create connections like this, and use their foci adequately." He slowed his pace. "You are not cruel, however. You are generous and conscious. It will take no time at all for you to put out these feelings as naturally as breathing."

It made sense. Somehow. Nevertheless, Artturi's mind was a whirlwind of confusion. Should he go back to Chrossili in the end? He couldn't bear to see it turn out like Lechen whenever he would return. However, he finally realized that he needed to be at Wybren Academy simply for that reason. He couldn't bear to see a village like Lechen, and he never wanted to be in such a hopeless state again. As such, he needed to learn how to gain spirit. Then, he would return. He swore he would. With his new resolution in mind, Artturi felt all of his anger and frustration fade away and turn into determination.

"So, you can still use your wood focus?" He thought for a second. "Wait! Mr. Glines! Is it possible for you to use a water focus too?"

Llewellyn shook his head. "I knew some basic water focus skills once, but once you decide on a focus and stick to it, perfecting it in a way that will be beneficial for all, you tend to lose this information in order to make space. That is why it is called a focus: You focus on one skill." He stopped in his tracks and sighed. "As for if I can still use my wood focus..."

"Greeting, gentlemen!"

Artturi turned his attention forward down the road. Four teenegers around the same age as him blocked their path. All of them wore a grin on their faces. One of the boys chuckled, holding a shovel in his right hand. The one who had spoken stepped forward, possibly acting as their leader. "Let us introduce ourselves. We are the Lechen Lions. Why have we stopped you on this fine day? Why, we couldn't help but notice that you had visited my village recently. Isn't that right?" The boys behind him nodded and muttered something about him being right.

Artturi put his hand behind his back and instinctively flexed his hand, before realizing that, once again, he didn't have a focus. He moved his eyes over to Llewellyn.

Llewellyn faced his palms out in front of him, showing that he was unarmed. "Ah, the fabled Lechen Lions." He took a step forward. "Your name has reached my ears. And yes. We have indeed visited Lechen. It is quite a lovely village. How may we help you? Is there a satisfaction survey that you need filled out or-"

"Give us all of your belongings, including those rings, and you won't get hurt." The leader swung a hoe over his shoulder, ready to strike.

Llewellyn sighed. "Right. In that case," He gripped Artturi's hand. "Now, we run!"

Artturi braced himself as Llewellyn began to pull him away to the left of the group. In no time at all, he caught pace. He warily stared back at the teens.

"Good one, but there's nowhere to- Oof!" The leader couldn't finish his sentence before he fell on the ground, his lackeys falling on top of him in tandem. Arttrui looked down at their feet. Out of nowhere, a group of roots had grown out of the ground and circled around all of the boys' ankles, forcing them to trip. "What the- How?" The leader began to push some of his fellow ne'er-do-wells off of him.

"So, yes!" Artturi looked up at Llewellyn. Even as he struggled to catch his breath as they circled the group and went back on the main road, he had a cheeky grin on his face. "I still can use my focus."

Artturi looked back at the fumbling boys and then began to laugh. By the time they had ripped the roots off from around their legs, catching up to the two of them didn't seem worth the trouble.

Before long, the two slowed to a stop. Llewellyn leaned against a nearby tree, breathing hard. He brushed the sweat off of his forehead. Artturi didn't need to catch his breath and continued to look back down the path they came, then back to Llewellyn. He didn't want to seem childish, but his admiration for this directionally-challenged, sleep-deprived professor had grown through seeing him get out of a situation using only his focus. No wonder the man held no fear wearing fancy clothing and jewelry in public. Who knew what else he could do? "That was incredible, Mr. Glines! Thank you."

"Sure... thing," Llewellyn huffed, holding his hand out. "Running is the hardest part. I definitely have the spirit down, but the stamina is... a work in progress."

Spirit. There was that word again. "Listen, Mr. Glines? I feel like I owe you an apology." Llewellyn looked up curiously. "I'm sorry for acting so out-of-control back there. It was very uncharacteristic of me, and I don't want you to think that I am the kind of person who lets frustration control them."

Llewellyn smiled. "You're a good boy, Artturi. There is no need to apologize. I understand perfectly. Now," He backed up from the tree. "Shall we continue?"

"Mm-hmm." Artturi stepped in line with Llewellyn, and the two continued on their path. "By the way, and if you don't mind me asking, why did you want to meet with the matriarch?"

"A wonderful question, Artturi boy," Llewellyn said. "While I cannot use a water focus, there are yet other ways I can help." He pulled out his journal. "I passed on some of the gifts from Chrossili onto the matriarch. You have to be very careful with this kind of transaction though. Lechen is controlled by a much stricter lord than the one who rules over Chrossili. That's why I couldn't give her anything of great monetary gain," he said, hinting at his rings. "Such trades are traceable and will lead to higher taxes from those who are corrupt. The ingredients I gave her should allow Lechen to have slightly better dinners for two or three weeks."

Artturi grinned and nodded in approval. "I will be able to help people like this soon."

"I know you will, Artturi."

And so the two walked in constant conversation-- with Artturi, of course, stopping Llewellyn occasionally to make sure that they were on the right path, for hours and hours. The two admired the mountains soaring in the distance, gushed about their shared hobby of drawing nature before proceeding to take a break under the shade of a tree and have a sheep drawing competition, and talked more and more about foci. Around Llewellyn, Artturi felt like he was talking with Paderau when she was much younger and agile. He didn't want to admit it, but... in his heart, this is what he felt having a father would have felt like.

Four hours later and as the mid-afternoon sun hit the sky, the two were deep in conversation about the city surrounding Wybren Academy.

"What kind of shops are there?"

"Anything you could think of. There is a wonderful candy shop. It has different chocolates than the ones I showed you at Chrossili, but it is still amazing. And the same can be said for the bookstores. Or course, they don't hold a candle to Wybren Academy's library. Many have gotten lost amongst its rows of bookshelves." Llewellyn pounded his hand to his fist. "That reminds me-- I must introduce you to one of my pupils. I am proud to say that he may know more about spirit water than me. He can be a little shy, but he's a good boy." He suddenly gasped. "Please excuse my informality. It has been awhile since I last taught at Wybren Academy."

"How long were you gone?"

"I think about half a year?" Llewellyn scratched his beard. "It could be longer though. I must confess that teaching can take a toll on me sometimes, yet now I find myself more excited for this school year than ever. I'll maintain a healthy sleep schedule too." He seemed to say this last part mostly for himself. "Artturi, look! You can start to see Flodau once we reach the top of this hill."

Artturi whipped his attention to the upward road ahead and began to quicken his pace. Then, he began to run. What he would see over this hill would be his new home. He'd make it his new home so that he could use his focus right. This was the start of a change. Inside, Artturi felt like this change would be even greater than himself. As he reached the top of the hill, a breeze whipped past his face, and his hair flowed wildly behind him like fire.

Down below, a distance away, a city of white, blue, and gold beckoned for him.

Flodau.

Llewellyn