The Wizard of Elsewhere

1.13 - An Un-Forged Blade

Some Wizard's see the Mana in everything. Others just simply lack Perspective.

— A Wizard

* * *

"I challenge The Forerunner of all the Fae!"

* * *

"Dost thee now, child? An' what pray dost thee bring to thine challenge?"

Leinan breathed shallowly, scarcely believing what had just come out of her mouth.

How?

How had it come out of her mouth? The Fae were still terrifying! Pants-wettingly terrifying. And when she tried again she still couldn't say those other words — 'I stand against thee, an' all the Fae'.

Leinan shuddered despite herself. Despite the hate she glared into the fire. Despite it all she still couldn't say the real words she had to say. The ones she had an inkling would suffice to get herself and Aemon and Keimen out of this mess.

But she could say these ones? How?

As quickly as she thought that, she answered it too.

Because she'd changed the words. Not all the Fae. The Fae were too much. Too Big, whatever the Fae were.

Just the one. Just —JUST — The Forerunner of all the Fae, if you could possibly apply 'just' to that.

Leinan licked her lips. That — that she could do. Just the one.

Leinan clenched her fists around the small cup.

The one who tormented her. Who hunted her and hunted her children. Who was terrifying herself beyond any right. But. Just. One. She, Leinan could stand against.

A couple words swapped, and a world of difference made. A matter of perspective.

"Maketh me wait mortal child?" Goaded The Forerunner and she giggled coldly into the wind. "Have thee not to offer?"

The wind whirled chillily and Leinan was very grateful for the small cup of tea still steaming in her hands. It heated her hands and provided a small warmth that ran down from her lips and heated her chest as she sipped it.

And that Aroma! It smelled tangy and sweet — like a fruit? And something else. Something floral? But more, it smelled of peace, though how that was a 'smell' Leinan had no idea.

It smelled tranquil, and thoughtful somehow and it let her resist The Forerunner's cold just a little. Just enough.

"Shall I take the clothes off thine back? Thine hide for a cloak mayhap?"

It was subtle, that difference in words, Leinan thought. They played a game here. Subtle words and subtle games.

Chess was a subtle game, for all that the plays were grand. So was Stones. And so were the words.

'Stand against AND...'.

'Challenge The Forerunner OF...'.

Perspective and subtlety. And the game?

Leinan couldn't look at The Forerunner. Still! But she studied The Forerunner from the corner of her eye and dared not look higher then her chest. The Forerunner's eyes were a trap, she knew. There was too much behind those eyes.