Corwal tried to refuse the men a couple more times, but they weren't leaving, and he finally gave in. He did it with a sigh and a frown, but Arawn had his doubts about how genuine were those emotions.
After all, Corwal's first order of business was to tell the men to collect everyone who wanted to learn for he wouldn't repeat himself. In a few minutes, half the guards and even some merchants came over upon hearing what was about to happen.
The lecture Corwal gave was simplistic enough that most people could understand, but Arawn wasn't among them. As he'd been told before, his knowledge of ether was at the level of children. Even if the men surrounding them hadn't been taught before, they had learned a lot through instinct and experience. Most of them were already at least in their thirties.
Once the people realized that Corwal wasn't just playing them, they came closer, crowding over. The excited atmosphere annoyed Arawn, and he slipped away, jumping off the wagon.
His position was soon overtaken by the man who'd held the cap, and Arawn could no longer even see the wagon, let alone his friend. It pissed him off for some reason, and he walked to the edge of the square. A bench was there so he sat down and began to play with the ether.
He tried again and again, calling and letting go, but the particles just didn't care for what he told them to do. For a moment, he even considered letting them enter him just to see if that would change anything. But it was a horrible idea and he knew it.
When the ether failed him for the hundredth time, he threw it to the side, furious. It struck the cobbled road, splitting it open.
The crack felt like a physical representation of why he shouldn't have been given power. A bit of frustration, and he sent it out, destroying everything around him.
Someone sat down on the bench, and Arawn raised his head. It was a man of around forty with a scar by his lip. That should have made him look dangerous, but he had soft and flabby features, which made it seem like an accident rather than a battle scar.
"Your friend's quite popular," he said in a conversational tone.
Arawn wasn't in the mood to speak, so he just looked away and returned his gaze to his hands. What was he doing wrong? Why wasn't the ether listening to him? Everyone in the square could do it. Everyone but him.
"Did he study somewhere? It's rare for trained mages to show up among nobodies like us."
It was another question that Arawn ignored. He himself didn't know too much about Corwal, so what was the point of sharing that lack of knowledge with a stranger?
The man chuckled to himself. "You're one quiet fellow. Am I bothering you?"
This time, Arawn raised his head. "Yes."
His straightforward reply startled the man. The stranger blinked a couple times, barely keeping the smile on his face. "That's… I guess I'll leave then…"
There was some hope in his voice, but Arawn didn't bother to understand it. He was in a bad mood and didn't want to waste time on anyone. If he managed to learn the ether, maybe things would return to normal.
His wish went unanswered, however. Then again, he didn't really manage to improve his control over ether.
When he returned to sleep inside the wagon at night, Corwal was too tired to say more than a few words to him. His mouth was dry, and he went to sleep almost straight away. Arawn, who'd been hoping to ask for any other advice, could only lie down in his own blanket and try to sleep, hoping that the next day would be different.
A loud commotion woke him up. Caravaneers were talking and shouting, horses snorted and traipsed while wagon wheels groaned. There were people everywhere, and Arawn hesitated. He looked around only to realize that Corwal was already gone.
Moments later, Arawn saw him outside helping push a wagon into place. He went to join as well, but was told go to the side. Apparently he looked too sickly and weak for anyone to care about his contribution.
He was relegated to sit on the sidelines with the order to not get in the way. It should have been a nice feeling, since he was free of any tasks, but somehow it felt wrong. Everyone was busy with something while he alone had no place in their chaotic order.
Once they finally set out, Arawn sat deep in their wagon, knees drawn to himself. Never in his life had he felt so out of place. In prison he'd at least known what he was doing there, but here… he felt like a python within a pack of wolves. Everyone was moving and doing things while he could only slither aside to not be in their way.
"Here you are!" Corwal exclaimed upon entering the wagon. "I was looking for you."
"Were you?"
Arawn didn't even move his gaze away from the rocking board on the right. It was a bit loose, and with every pebble hit by the wheel, it rose slightly up.
"Wait, are you sulking? I was busy only for half a day!"
"Who said I'm sulking?" Arawn finally looked up at the accusation. "I was only thinking what other approach I could use to—"
"Sure, sure. If that helps you sleep at night."
Corwal waved off his explanation and sat down against the opposite wall. There were blankets for four other people, but they had their own horses, so they were riding outside. Few other guards were like the two of them, without any personal transportation.
"I wish I could ignore them, but it's not like I can do that," Corwal said after a moment. "How is it fair that I got an education and they didn't? It was only luck that I was born to my parents and not some cow herder, so how does that make me more qualified? If I don't take this chance to help them improve, no one will, and this knowledge may save their lives one day."
It was easy to be annoyed and angry, but Arawn understood the logic behind Corwal's words. Helping others was simply in the man's blood. If it wasn't, Arawn would have remained in the Gutter and probably have already wiped out another batch of prisoners.
"Why aren't they taught though? Wouldn't the country be stronger if everyone could defend themselves?"
"People say that the king is afraid—if everyone became accomplished mages, then a simple riot could level a city. How could the king control thousands of angry mages?
"But I think it's more than just that. There have been many philosophers who wondered about human nature and if ether is good or damaging to us. Oppression of strong against the weak is a problem already, but what if the difference in strength was much greater? Minor grudges would result in cities disappearing every other day, while those without power would be no better than slaves. The ensuing chaos would probably tear the country apart."
It was a chilling thought. "Why are you teaching the common people then? Aren't you going against the king's wishes?" Arawn asked, watching Corwal's face for any reaction.
He tensed, but only for a fraction of a second. "There's no law against it. And I don't believe humans are bad in nature. They can do unspeakable horrors, but it's always for a reason, some sort of goal that in their eyes is worthy enough to wade through blood."
Arawn wanted to believe that, but he wasn't that forgiving. The king and his archmage had locked him up for no other reason than because he was born a monster, or so they claimed. Was that okay? Just because they thought it was the right thing to do?
He had other thoughts on that question. If they ever met, he was going to give them a piece of his mind.
A horse galloped to their wagon and came to trot alongside it. The man with the cap peeked his head inside with a smile on his face. "Master Mage, can I bother you for a moment? I have a question about something you told yesterday."
"Sure." Corwal moved to the edge of the wagon and patiently explained what he'd said before after the man voiced his question.
Soon, more riders came, and they all surrounded the back of the wagon. They were eager and excited, questioning Corwal and sharing their experimentations from the evening before. One man did something Arawn didn't notice, and his horse reared, making the others roar with laughter.
Their rockous merriment was interrupted by Deena. She galloped over and gave them a good scolding for acting like school children. She had hired them to defend her caravan, not to bootlick her Master Mage.
But even her displeasure couldn't deter the men. In the end, she came up with a rotation. Two men could stay by Corwal's side for half an hour, then they would have to change with others and return to the work for which they were actually hired.
Some were still unhappy, saying they didn't care for their salary if they could learn from the Master Mage, but Deena wasn't having it. She told them that anyone who wasn't working for her would be driven out of the caravan. This finally gave her the last of the reluctant agreements, and she left once there were really only two people left by the wagon.
This should have been better, but it wasn't, not for Arawn anyway. He had some questions of his own, but Corwal wasn't free for even a minute. And his explanations… Even though Arawn listened to them, he didn't understand. They were all about elements and how to improve their control when he had no idea how it even worked.
He tried to play with the ether by himself, but the weird looks from the men around Corwal made him stop. He didn't want to be a spectacle.
When they stopped in the evening, he sat alone by the fire and ate his meal in silence. There was the crackle of fire and talks everywhere around him, which made his lonesome position even more glaring.
When had he become so attached to company though? Hadn't he always been alone? In the Gutter, no one had even dared to approach him. So why was he suddenly feeling like the world was over just because he didn't have someone to talk to?
While Arawn considered that, a man sat down by his side, but it wasn't Corwal. The person was middle-aged with a scar near his lip from the other day.
"You don't look happy," he said while making himself comfortable. "Mind if I join you?"
Arawn was tempted to roll his eyes, but decided to just ignore the man. He had already sat down, so what was that belated question if he could do it? Would he stand up and leave if Arawn said that he minded?
Three more people approached and surrounded the fire. Two of them were dressed in full plate armor while the third was a woman. She wore leather armor, and there was a quiver with a bow on her back. Her face was all angles complimented by a sharp nose and lips that were a thin, straight line.
It didn't look like she'd come to exchange pleasantries with him, which puzzled Arawn. Was she and the other two the man's friends? But if so, what they were all doing surrounding him?
"I'm Dres," the man said, extending his hand, but Arawn just looked at it. What was he supposed to do with that?
Noticing his confusion, the man pulled it back and motioned to his companions. "To your left are Ehar and Horan, they're brothers. And this lovely lady here is Asta."
Arawn thought for a moment, then decided it was basic courtesy to say his name. There was no need to alienate them even if he had no idea why they came to him. "Arawn."
"Arawn…" the man repeated as if tasting the word. "It's a rare name. Somewhere from the mountains, I'm guessing?"
All of Ayersbert's eastern side was against a mountain range, so there were more than a couple villages there. They were part of the country, but the king rarely concerned himself with them. Those places were simple and people there were poor.
"You could say that."
The man was right, but his guess didn't really give him the information he thought he'd received. Although Arawn's birth place was a small village in the middle of nowhere, he'd spent so little time there that he had no memory of it. The fact that he was from there was only something he'd heard later from others.
The woman gave him a searching look. "Anywhere specific? I have some family there."
He shook his head. "They wouldn't know me." How could they? He'd spent all his time in the cage, then various prisons before making the Gutter his home.
"Oh, don't be so secretive! This is nothing but idle chatter," Dress said and patted him on the back. "You can trust us. We're on your side."
Arawn really wanted to ask what side was that, but refrained for the time being. He hoped that if he didn't indulge them in conversation, they would pack up and leave.
"You're quite loyal," Dres said once Arawn didn't reply. "He's acting like you don't exist yet you remain by his side like a starry-eyed pup."
"Dres, don't patronize him. You can see that he was just saved from something. Look at his papery skin and bones sticking out from it. That Corwal guy must have saved his life."
The woman sounded like she was trying to calm Dres, but her words made Arawn feel even worse. Was that how others saw him? As a lost chick sticking to the only person that had helped him?
There was more truth to it than he would have liked to admit, and it made his insides roil. He wasn't a child; he'd never been given the chance. Was this a belated resurgence of the childish wish to always have someone he could rely on?
He almost rose to his feet and left at that moment. Almost. At the last second, he realized that it would be even more childish. They were a day's ride away from the closest city, and he had no idea how to tell directions. His control of ether was abysmal, and he had no idea how money worked, so even if he reached a city, what would he do? Starve to death?
His only choice was to stay and learn. Once he did so, he could become an equal and not another baby chick that Corwal had picked up off the street.
And he knew he was just that in Corwal's eyes. Although he was treated differently than Eliot, it wasn't because of his age but just different circumstances. He was more useful while being trained, but that was it. Whenever any decisions had to be made, like if they should join a caravan and which, his opinion wasn't necessary.
"You seem deep in thought," Dres said. "Did you just realize he doesn't really care about you?"
"I'm pretty sure I know our relationship better than you. After all, I've participated in the making of it."
One of the brothers laughed. It was a loud, echoing sound. "What an accepting little guy. If only you could find someone like that Asta."
The woman's expression turned nasty. "I tore that bastard's throat open, and I can do the same for you. Do you wanna see?"
They fell into an argument while Arawn hesitated if sending people away with a blast of ether was an acceptable thing. It was really tempting, after all.
Why had he lamented his loneliness earlier? It was starting to seem like a very relaxing way to pass the time when compared to being surrounded by the violent foursome.