Lessons, Lessons

The metal dummy stood idly in the middle of the field ahead, bearing more than one fray on its aged body.

"Your mother used to train here." As the trio approached the open field, every guard in sight stomped their spear on the floor, after which they gave low bows to the steward.

They stepped off the tiles and unto the soft grass, insects springing up and away from the trail they followed.

"It hasn't been used much ever since." Arcan squinted up at the unforgiving sun, as he turned around to face the princesses. "Thora, you may leave. You have done your bit, go home now."

The half-elf princess hesitated, sneaking the chosen a worried glance, which she did not return. With a subtle wrinkle along her forehead, she brought her hands together in front of her in greeting, whilst bowing slightly. "Your Highness." The insects jumped up once again, at the movement in the home, as Thora made her way off the field.

"Maraja?" The steward called, his gloved hands nestled comfortably behind him.

The Nawi's head remained tilted downward, her blue eyes roaming the grass aimlessly.

"You do not have a choice, child and I am truly sorry that that is the case. But isn't this why you came here? Did you not come to term before setting out?"

In a heartbeat, her head snapped up, turning to face him. "What I did not and will never come to terms with is the fact that my brother is being held hostage." A haunted look plagued her features, as though she hadn't any rest.

"Well, the sooner the better you accept it, princess. You cannot even begin to comprehend the things that could go wrong if he stayed around you at a time like this."

"We've been together all our lives!"

"You will train, chosen. And you will do so fervently if you want him to live." He took a step backward. "Now, the lesson starts. Elaran magic is an extension of one's core emotions, mingled with the power of will. Center any emotion, and your magic will respond deftly. Will, however, is key to getting things done. There are three planes to Elaran magic…we'll start from the center, elemental magic."

A multi-colored glow slipped into his dark eyes, as he spread his his arms wide open. The ground began to shift, the grass fading away, as the field split itself from the rest of the land in a circle.

The chosen wobbled, as they stood on the floating circle, leaving the rest of Eryndor behind. Stray curls of hair littered her face as she stared wide-eyed at the castle beneath them.

"Controlling elements can be tricky, it's one of the hard planes to master and that's why we're starting with it." He brought his hands down, focusing his eyes on her. "To excel in it, you must tether yourself to life itself. The air you breathe, the warmth on your skin, the bodies of water, and the land beneath which connects us all." He shut his eyes, and tilted his head up, as his hands rose halfway. "Feel it, Maraja. Feel it all."

After a few seconds, she followed suit, her eyes fluttering to a close.

~~~

The air swiveled calmly around me, the singular braid of hair behind me reeling along with it.

The sun was hot, drawing out beads of sweat from my face. There was a subtle vibration from the earth beneath, and suddenly I could feel it.

I felt goosebumps rise atop my skin, and like the root of a tree, I felt myself rush through the earth deep below, bound to all things, living and dead.

The smell of grass, the oceans, ice, flowers, every possible scent fettled into my nostrils. With a sudden gasp, my eyes flew open in an instant, the world before me looking like a new one.

I could see, nay sense every detail. The rushing of the wind seemed clearer, the sun felt closer, and the sounds of waves of water filled my senses, as gold specs surrounded me.

What is this?

~~~

"Very good," Arcan commented, his eyes lingering on her form. "Now here's the complicated bit. You must-"

Out of thin air, a girl materialized at the far end of the floating circle, her voice piercing through the atmosphere and cutting his sentence short. "Arcan!"

She bounded towards them, her steps full of pride, yet holding a level of laxity in them. Her dark hair bounced and swayed, cascading the sides of her face like a curtain. "You promised me breakfast!" She said, her almond-shaped eyes focusing only on the steward.

"Anaiah, what are you doing here?" Arcan asked, putting his hands behind him once again.

"I'm hungry, let's go." The girl turned around, her floor-length coat twirling along with her.

"Dear, I'm busy."

Slowly, she twisted her neck backward, her perfectly shaped brows arching in question. "Busy?"

"This is Maraja." He said, briefly waving a hand at the chosen.

Anaiah turned fully to face Maraja. "And?" She asked, her caramel skin appearing to glow under the sun.

"And I'm training her, Naiah." He replied with a nuanced roll of his eyes.

She flipped her rich hair to the side, revealing several piercings in her ear. "Training huh? Can I join?" A blood-red glow gathered in her eyes, and with a stretch of her arm, Maraja was sent flying.

"Anaiah!" The steward raised his voice at the girl, as the Nawi skidded to a stop. "Maraja." He turned, and raised a hand to her, telling her not to retaliate.

The chosen burned in anger, staring daggers at a snickering Anaiah.

He looked between the two, and heaved a sigh while pinching the bridge of his nose. "May the Trides have mercy on us all."