The Balance (First Draft | Discontinued)

Chapter 16 (Ari)

"No, Ari. Keep your focus."

Panting, Ari felt that strange tug snap. "It's hard," he said, collapsing into the chair.

"Not as hard as explaining this to your mother, is it?" His father was leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

The idea made him shudder. "I guess not..."

They were in the same room as before, but this was no simple chat. His father had decided that there was no time like before sunrise to teach, something that even Herr Hallessen would have balked at— although this was far more difficult than staying awake during the Saga of Einar the Warrior, and that was truly saying something.

"Let's try this again."

"But you're making it harder."

His father sighed. "The world will not give you a choice, and nor will I. If you really want to control yourself, then you must be exposed to situations more difficult than the bare minimum."

"Most people aren't going to be attacking me!"

"They will. They may use words instead, but regardless, you must learn how to keep yourself in check. Now, are you ready?"

Ari bit his lip and nodded. He wasn't, and he was fairly certain that his father knew it.

"Good. Remember, you want to focus on calmness, on centering yourself entirely. Don't try to push it away— do not recognize that it exists at all. There is only you and your calm."

He nodded again and closed his eyes. His father had told him not to, since it wasn't an option in a real situation, but he figured that he could work up to that. Taking a deep breath, he called up a memory: sitting in the library, watching the snow fall as the moon rose, book pages turning silver under the light. This time, the link curled and tightened to a knot inside his chest. It wasn't painful, but there was a weight to it.

Ari's breathing slowed and he leaned back in his chair, hands flat on his thighs. He could stay like this forever... no need to grip his chair until his knuckles turned white, no heartbeat that thudded against his ribs like hard punches, no sharp, twisting nausea. This was something he hadn't felt since he had argued with his mother, perhaps longer. But now there was something else nudging at him like a fairy tale mara on a sleeping man's chest; worming its way into dreams to corrupt them, there was something dark at the edge of his peace.

Ignore it. Ignore it. Think of the library. Turning the pages, tracing his finger underneath the words as he read... but that feeling was still there, lingering, prowling, trying to get in. It's not real. But it was, and he opened his eyes. His father leaned against the wall still, looking unruffled as ever— and Ari couldn't help but narrow his eyes at the man. Why was he so unaffected? How could he be so... so... Ari let out a growl, fingers tightening on the edge of the seat.

His father's lips barely moved as he said, "Keep your focus, Ari."

"How am I supposed to do that if you're attacking me?" Ari snapped, rising from his chair. "How am I supposed to learn anything like this?"

"Concentrate, now... there's only you."

He stepped forward, closer and closer to his father. In all honesty, he had no idea what he planned to do, but there was nothing his father could do if he hit him, right? The idea was a tempting one; anything to get the man to finally react—

"I think that's enough for now."

Ari gasped as the anger flooded out of him. The tug in his own chest was gone too, leaving him just... He shook his head, trying to clear it all away. What had he been about to do? Staring down at his shoes, he mumbled, "I'm sorry."