"Do you think . . . you could teach me?" I ask.
"Hmm? [Alchemy]?" Nystrom asks.
"No, that," I say, pointing toward the wood burning furnace.
"I'd hate to get in the way of our Lady's syllabus . . . but," Nystrom says, trailing off in contemplation.
"But?" I ask. Waiting for his response, however minute the pause, is as intense as an ad break before the continuing of a tv program.
"I believe I can," Nystrom says after the long pause in thought. "But it will be our little secret. I will talk to our Lady later about it."
Wait, what?
"Then how is it a secret?" I ask.
"I will come up with something. Now go, before your young friend freezes to death from the wait," Nystrom says with a chuckle.
I didn't know what Nystrom's plan is, but I have to give him a little faith considering everything. I nod and quickly head back out again to join Fvenn in finishing our winter magnum opus.
. . .
I have to admit that I should have never doubted Nystrom in the slightest – my mother agreed to allow me to begin additional lessons in [Alchemy]. Albeit we still have to dabble in it to show the results from my new tutor, I am very much excited to accelerate my education. And who knows, if I'm already proficient at [Fire] magic and can impress my mother, maybe we can move onto more advanced magic from there.
After the snow starts to let up in the winter season, I begin my guided trek with Nystrom down towards his cabin that is southwest to the manor. It's about a fifteen minute trek in the snow and runs adjacent to the southernmost tip of the woods.
We finally make it to the cabin and Nystrom opens the door, motioning me in ahead. I step into the dimly lit room, embers from a dying fire crackling their last recesses of energy before inevitably sputtering out. The cabin is adorned with numerous items: iron pots and glass ampoules containing unknown compounds and elixirs; unfinished leather and fur items on a worktable against the wall; skulls of various animals, some I recognized like rabbit and boar, and others stranger and unknown; half eaten food and unused produce on another table. The cabin is well lived in and gives off a rustic vibe of a vagabond who is finally settling down from an itinerant life abroad.
"Sit," Nystrom motions to a chair and I sit.
He replenishes the fireplace, igniting it wordlessly with a finger snap. He returns to me, dragging a stool over to sit and study me with scrutinizing eyes.
"Take your coat off and extend your arms," Nystrom says.
I blink for a moment in confusion. It's still pretty cool in here even with the fire being renewed. As if sensing my conclusion, he answers.
"You will not die of cold so quickly. I need to [Scan Aura] to see what I am working with," Nystrom explains.
[Scan Aura], the upgrade to [Sense Aura], the latter being what I currently have as a basic racial perk. I take off my jacket and literally t-pose in my chair, shivering. The garments I wear underneath are no more than two layers of what looked almost like sleeveless gray pajamas. I'm only glad we're inside and not outside where even though it's not currently snowing, it's still very much below freezing.
I see his eyes glow, the familiar Fae hue of magic activation confirming his bloodline. A shared heritage. His eyes follow my head, neck, arms, abdomen, etc, undoubtedly cataloging my stats, skills, and racial abilities. If I can learn the skill, I wonder if I'll be able to use [Scan Aura] on my own reflection. Otherwise, only my mother and now Huntsman Nystrom know of my latent abilities. I feel like a microbe being scrutinized by a magnifying glass.
His eyes flicker off, the scan complete.
"Our Lady has done some nice work," Nystrom says.
"I'm not a product you know," I say, slightly annoyed at his description.
"We are the products of our forebears; what I mean to say is that her preparation in your education has been superb."
"How so?"
"Your Eth has good flow, considering your age. And there are no blockages to any of your pathways due to overexertion and overextension of your abilities."
"Oh."
"I'll be able to sharpen your craft. Turn a well-crafted stave into a powerful spear to speak. But it will come with its own challenges."
"Challenges?" I ask, not really liking his tone towards the end of that statement.
"Aye, [Fire] magic can be quite volatile and my own preparation of it is self-taught and intuitive," Nystrom says.
"I know that, but what do you mean?" I ask
"So far you've been taught by the careful study of Vasque Runic Lore, correct?"
"Yes," I reply.
"Each rune contains a crafted instruction through Eth-Etheric transfer. It is the language of the Divines that dictate the order and chaos in the world, as well as its balance. However, it is not the only way to cast spells."
"You mean [Flash Cast]?" I ask, meaning the ability to cast a chosen spell without a cooldown.
"Not at all," Nystrom says, grabbing my coat and walking to the door. "Follow me outside"
I take a step outside and although there is little to no breeze, the air is frigid against my skin.
"C-can I have my coat back?" I say.
"You won't need it for this," Nystrom says, throwing it over his shoulder and motioning me out into the snow.
"What?"
"One can control magic without the need of Runic Lore of any kind. It merely requires practiced imagination and focus on the effect one wants to create. It is this effect that mimics, or rather recreates the spell without the need of an incantation. Like this."
Nystrom points two fingers at a nearby frost covered tree. His Eth ignites the air on his finger tips like candle flames, the flames dancing until they form into a fiery ball. He cocks his hand and fires, letting fly a [Fire Ball] into the tree's trunk, the spell splintering a gaping hole in its side that smolders from the impact. I half wish he had fired it at me, my knees buckling from the cold.
"[Fire] is simply an extension of [Wind], you merely use your Eth to–"
"Vibrate the air until it produces heat?" I ask. I didn't know how distant (or close) magic is to science in this world, but I imagine there must be some sort of connection.
"Exactly," Nystrom says, nodding approvingly. "You are a bright one, my Lady. The first lesson will focus on your Sphere of Influence."
"S-sphere of I-i-influence?"
"The radius that your Eth can impact the environment around you. Your area of effect," Nystrom explains. "To cast [Fire] in such a manner requires you not only to rapidly rotate your Eth, but to grasp and contort the surrounding Ether as well."
"I-I-I think I understand. C-c-can I have my coat back n-n-now?" I ask.
"As I told you," Nystrom says. "You won't need it for this."
The hell I won't. I reach out to grab it and Nystrom deftly steps out of the way.
"I'm going to f-f-freeze out here!" I say in frustration.
"You won't. You will create your own heat."
Nystrom stops in front of me for a moment, arms out extended, as his hair blows backward from a sudden frenzied breeze. Heat radiates from him, temporarily warming me in its aura.
"Use your eyes, your very special eyes that can see the nature of things. See my Eth. Watch how it contorts, it flexes, it twists and turns. Recreate this within your own mind's eye with your own Eth, and you too can master fire."
In several seconds the heat burning off from him vanishes as quickly as he had summoned it, the demonstration over.
"Now, release the Eth around you," Nystrom commands again.
I growl in frustration. My nose, cheeks, toes, and fingers are bitterly numb. Is this a way to treat a child!?
"The longer you wait, the colder you'll become," Nystrom says, circling around me. "The fastest way we learn is through survival. Through instinct. That is the way you will learn if you are to be my student. Does my Lady wish to give up our apprenticeship?"
Is he throwing me in the deep end, seeing if I am able to float and swim? He does have a point though. If I am to learn, I need to take risks. And surely he wouldn't let me freeze to death out here . . . right? Right?
Not wishing to find out I let out an exhale and then a deep, relaxing breath. I silently thank my mother; our practice in Eth control allows me to release it with more ease like flexing a well-trained muscle. There is a comfort to being surrounded by my aura, to feel the strong beat from my chest, my heart being the engine that revs and circulates within and throughout me.
"Now close your eyes. You don't need them to see the Ether around you. Let your Eth be your skin. Grasp the Ether and twist it around you."
I close my eyes and reach out with my mind. I visualize my Eth as tiny grasping hands and fingers, almost like cilia that protrude outward to grip the surrounding environment. I struggle though, the Ether moving out of my reach as if steering away with a mind of its own.
"D-Damn it," I screech out.
"That language is unbecoming, my Lady," Nystrom says. "But use that frustration to guide your mind. Emotion is a powerful catalyst for our kind."
"But I'm not a Pyrokinetic," I say. "It's n-n-not like I can conjure f-f-fire from th-thin air!"
"Neither am I, lass," Nystrom says, folding his arms and resting his back against the still standing tree. "However, it's not all that dissimilar. A Kinetic's power is tied to their emotions, and their abilities to a single element. We, however, are able to influence all that is around us in nature if we've the will to control it."
"It's n-n-not w-working!"
I silently wish in frustration that the scarred tree would give and crush him beneath it. .
I hear Nystrom's footsteps approach me and when my eyes open, I find two forefingers touching my forehead. A fiery warmth radiates from them, invading my mind. My mind's eye. I can see his Eth's rotation, like a distinct signature, burning with an orange tinge. A dancing flame. The sensation vanishes as he steps away, his arms crossed.
"Then make it work. Make the Ether work for you. You know not the Runes to converse with it. Instead, you must communicate it through action," Nystrom instructs.
Through action.
Coercion.
The Ether continues to dance out of my Eth's grasp so I decide to extend past it.
[Surround]
My mind hunts, chases, and surrounds the Ether, clawing it back toward me until it melds directly with my Eth.
[Rotation]
I am the focal point as the air dances around me, the molecules bumping against each other, vibrating more quickly.
[Faster]
A warm breeze starts to build up around me, snow changing to icy water as it gradually melts over the course of a minute. It continues to get hotter, steam rising from the ground. From my skin.
[Faster]
[Faster]
The air sizzles around me in a blazing heat. However, the heat does not harm me. It cannot harm me. I am the heat. I am the fire and surrounding flame.
"Hold it, there," Nystrom says, his voice having moved closer, just out of my radius. "Remember this sensation and ingrain it within. It will be the pillar of your development as a magic caster."
I let out a scream of exertion, my eyes opening to a shimmering, red hot wall rotating around me. How am I doing this? My concentration waivers from both my surprise and exhaustion. I find myself surprisingly falling down several feet onto the charred earth beneath me, having somehow been suspended by sheer will. I take in labored breaths as if I had run a marathon.
"Well done, lass," Nystrom says and I find my vision covered by the coat he had just thrown back to me.
He helps me to my feet and I slide the coat back on. However, I feel almost too warm underneath it, my face flushed. I look down at the black circle of soot I had created from simply channeling my energy and controlling the Ether without a commanding incantation. It's exhilarating thinking about it. Exactly how I expected learning magic in this world should be.
"Do not forget what you learned today. Do not forget the sensation. It will be the focus of our training," Nystrom says.
We return to the hut and with further instruction we create two elixirs – one to replenish my Eth, and the other as our alibi for my instruction in [Alchemy] to share with my mother.
I return home with renewed passion, looking forward to my "advanced placement" lessons with Nystrom in the future.