From Iron and Ruin

Vulnerable.

Chapter Seven : Vulnerable.

"Shiny," Gwen greeted me at breakfast glumly. "Mornin'. "

We had been given a place at the head-table, overlooking the students who mostly just gaped openly. I had made excuses for it, but it was beginning to grate on my nerves. Gwen and I were not spectacles to be watched and gossiped about.

"Morning Gwen." I slid into my chair, tired and on edge. "Where is Fyr?"

"The Chief- Magister asked for her to have breakfast with him early. Now, I think they may be in his office." Gwen shovelled a spoon of rubbery eggs into her mouth. "She left me a note before she went."

Ah.

"Seeker Birchwood," A sharp-nosed man leaned around Eira, his curious eyes focused on me. "I have heard stories about your abilities. I am curious to know whether the story of you pulling lightening from the sky is true?"

"Seeker Birchwood, this is Magister Machi. He is a Fire Magister, looking to focus on lightening." Eira introduced quickly, lips quirking in bane amusement as she eyed the other Magister over her breakfast.

"The stories are true." I told him as I spooned food onto my plate. There were too many forks to keep count and I frowned at them briefly, before picking up the smallest one. Down the table, a woman scoffed.

Ears burning, I added, "though I did not conjure it myself. I simply used the storm above me."

Magister Machi nodded. "And what form did you use. There is the Titular stretch, a popular move amongst amateurs or the Selivian point – a two fingered pull that is mostly used for precise moves."

"I ..." they were watching me like wolves watching a lamb. I didn't know these names. We didn't learn magic casting the way humans did, but to say I didn't know would only make me seem dumb and feral. "I used the Heslan Pull."

Murmurs broke out instantly and Machi frowned. "That is not a casting move."

"You don't know it," I sipped my tea, resisting the urge to wince. So bitter. "It is the move of complete vulnerability. You have nothing in your hands, nothing guarding you. You open yourself up to the storm and let it take control."

"An Elven move then?" Machi pressed his hands together thoughtfully and rested his hands on them. "Interesting – I always envied your control over the elements. It is so effortless. Is it taught or inherited?"

"Being a half-blood Elf, I can hear the whispers of nature. I can sense its changing, can smell a storm but I can only imagine how in-tune a full-blooded Elf is."

Breakfast passed in a careful transaction of information. The other Magisters looked to be biting at the bit to ask Gwen and I questions, but they didn't want to overstep the boundaries. I was careful not to say too much, ever careful to avoid spilling Legion and Dratlan secrets and giving them something they could use against me.

After the students and most of the Magisters spilled from the hall, I exited in search of Fyr. In the broad, immaculate halls, it didn't wake me long to find the tiny, fiery haired woman. Gwen and Eira were a step behind me and the Troll talked animatedly about the wonders of a good chisel.

"Fyr!" I raised a hand, a smile rising.

She didn't turn from me and continued to stare up at a painting of a man I didn't recognise. I called her name again. She didn't turn around. When I clasped a hand on her shoulder, she jerked violently and tore away from me, her normally kind eyes dark and wary.