Hidden Spirit

Chapter Thirteen: The Summoners

To say that Feren was, at the time, unpleasant, would be too kind.

Feren was being a different kind of obstinate. To the point where Amelia very much wanted to drop him, but knew that he was her only chance at actually giving her spirits any sort of unguarded interaction — the social meetings being of a certain necessity for the spirits to feel truly balanced and content.

Then Amelia noticed that he was being the exact stuck-up, prideful, firm-faced and stern walking power that Andrew had known him as.

The longer she looked at him the more she realized he was everything that would've made her mad before. That is, before she became so silently desperate for another magic being to stand near her, within arms' reach.

As his pale hair brushed over his jaw with each step, she caught glimpse of his tightened jaw. It was off-putting until she began to find it slightly amusing.

Amelia softly called a third spirit to her side — the sparrow. Tivarka was trotting through the grasses slightly behind the other Voerr as if to draw his attention without really asking for it. Feren glanced at it from the side. Glared, more like.

Bored and stuck in the middle of the summer fields with him, she mischievously drew up a small bit of energy not used to summon. She moved the way she would to point at his back, and silvery wisps shot from her fingertips, gracefully moving through the air toward his shoulder.

Feren turned at the last second, instinctively waving his hand to shoo the magic.

"Hey—"

She sent another with the opposite hand.

Feren instead slapped it back toward her. "This isn't funny."

Amelia was smiling anyway.

"Go play with your horse or something," he growled, turning away from her.

A small form left her hands and smacked him right in the back of his head. His energy automatically absorbed the wisp.

He growled.

"Come now," she whined, "Are you upset?" Her tone was mocking.

"Aria, I'm warn—"

Another spritz hit his head.

Faster than she could see he turned and shot his own waves of magic down toward her three paces back.

Her arms rose to block the cool wave and she chuckled. The traces that didn't disperse were quickly drawn into her body. Again, as she took in a deep breath, she felt him. It was such an exciting feeling; bold and cocky and prideful.

A hint of a smile pulled at his mouth before having the strict look thrown over it again.

"Stop playing."

"Stop playing," she mocked in a pouty-lipped grumpy tone.

"Amelia—"

"Turi."

He turned back with a growl. "I liked you better when you didn't speak."

"Liar."

He ignored her.

In strict silence he led her through the field and up to the edge of a wide valley overlooking the countryside. A few villages and a couple farms could be seen far in the distance; a human's sight would probably only recognize them as small dots on the horizon. Feren pointedly turned around and showed her the town and keep behind them, only the width of a finger in size.

"Practice here and no one will see you. This is the fourth field from the stables. The horses will be moved back to the third once it begins to cool."

"Oh, nice." She looked at him sideways. "You have a nice pleasant voice."