The Sins of the God King

Chapter 9: Lest

As Lest diligently practiced his conjuring, his jotter filled with an array of painted creatures. Elly, offered guidance, emphasizing the importance of infusing each painting with heart and capturing the emotions he felt in the moment.

This is the fifth day of their practice, Elly spoke with a tinge of concern, "Lest, if you don't make progress soon, you won't be able to participate on the Gathering this winter."

Lest felt frustration mounting as his once spacious jotter became crowded, leaving little room for new paintings. Elly suggested replacing with a new one, but Lest hesitated. This jotter was a cherished gift from his mother, imbued with sentimental value that made replacing it unthinkable. He reluctantly replied, "I'll manage with the traces of paint. Washing it will do."

Elly acknowledged his dilemma, realizing that Lest was the first in their village to encounter this. She marveled at his determination, unsure of what advice to offer. Lest reassured her with a determined smile, silently accepting the challenge of working with limited space.

Shifting the focus, Elly praised Lest's natural speed in painting."One thing for sure, Lest. You got your fathers speed at painting." Like his father, She recognized his innate ability to swiftly making images, a skill that would prove invaluable in times of war or conflict. Lest recalled his mother's training, teaching him techniques to paint with greater speed—a continuous line without lifting the brush or quill, or envisioning the image in his mind before transferring to the jotter. These methods had become second nature to him.

Elly, with a playful glint in her eye, said, "You know, Lest, once you master this whole conjuring thing, you have to teach me your speed-painting techniques."

Lest chuckled, the weight of recent events momentarily lifting. "Deal," he said, nodding with enthusiasm. "I'll teach you everything I know, Elly." He smiled, genuinely looking forward to the day.

"Hope you can conjure before the field training starts, or I'll be alone," Elly said, glancing at Lest.

Lest paused from his drawing, his jotter messy with sketches and half-formed ideas. "You won't be alone. You have friends besides me. Like that guy with the braided hair... I just don't recall his name."

Elly looked at him, a mix of amusement and exasperation on her face. "Oh, him? He's not really a friend, more of an acquaintance. His father works with mine, so whenever his family visits for a drink, we end up talking."

Lest smiled, a teasing glint in his eye. "If he's not your friend, then could it be something more?"

Elly's eyes widened, and she slapped his shoulder as he began to laugh. "Oh, grow up!" she shouted, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

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The sun dimmed, casting long shadows as the sky deepened towards dusk. The wind grew chilly, gusting through their hair and tunics. "I think we should go. Just wash your jotter clean, and hopefully, there'll be no traces of ink when youre done," Elly announced.

Frustration boiled within Lest. He nearly threw his wisk away but instead punched the grassy ground. Another day had slipped by, and he still couldn't conjure even the tiniest creature. With only two weeks left before conjuring field training began, desperation gnawed at him. He stood up, tucking his jotter and whisk into his pouch, then started walking silently.

Elly followed, pondering whether to say something but deciding to remain quiet. She knew there was little more she could offer on the matter. The weight of unspoken words hung between them as they walked, both lost in their thoughts.

As they continued their journey home, a glimmer on the distant horizon caught their attention. They squinted, trying to discern the source of the commotion. To their astonishment, they saw a vast army, its ranks stretching as far as the eye could see, bearing the flag of the kingdom—a dark emblem depicting ten dagger piercing a mountain.