A few days goes past before I get some alone time. The beginnings of terms are always pretty intense. So the first free afternoon I have I go and borrow a pony from the academy stalls. I told Tauria I'm going to the town some way from the academy campus to get some paper and ink I forgot to buy before, and she almost came with me. I finally somehow convinced her not to.
I take the pony and head to the exact opposite direction from the town, to the woods and the trails that zigzag further than anyone I know has ever actually gone. I don't want to risk being seen by anyone. So I ride. For an hour, deep into the woods. I spot a clearing in the woods in front of me, so I head there, get off the pony and tie it to a tree. The pony just stares at me for a moment and then bends down to eat the newly green, fresh grass on the ground.
I walk away from the pony and to what I approximate to be the middle of the clearing. I sit down, my legs crossed.
I have magic. I know I do. I didn't know I did, but I know now. How didn't I remember it before. I was three back in my memory, but still. You'd think I'd remember something like that. You'd think I'd know something like that, even if I didn't remember the first time the magic came out. My parents must have done something to make me forget all about it. Maybe they did something to suppress the magic.
Maybe they did something to make it go away. Maybe I don't have magic any more.
I sit there, my eyes closed. The only things I hear is the pony munching on something and a small stream that must be running somewhere nearby.
There's only one way to find out. I open my eyes and stare at a branch nearby, with light green leaves, not turned the green of summer yet. It all started with a branch, maybe it will come out again with a branch. Though this one has leaves already.
I stare at the branch, trying to figure out what to do. How to do the magic, if I even can. I've never done it, how am I supposed to know how to make it work. Maybe I'm not supposed to know.
What am I doing?
Why in the world am I trying to bring out magic in me? That will only get me in trouble. Or killed. It's been nice and quiet all these years. Why lure it out now to cause all the trouble I don't want?
I sigh, close my eyes again, and breath deep. The pony is still munching on something.
But right now I feel like I don't know who I am any more. It's not like anything has changed. It's not like I have changed. But I don't feel like I know who I am. And I need to know. Otherwise it will drive me crazy. I need to know if I have magic, even if that brings trouble. I'll be able to hide it, somehow, from everyone. I've been successfully hiding it from even myself for all these years, it shouldn't be a problem to hide it from everyone else also in the future.
I open my eyes. I stare at the branch for a moment longer, and then reach to grab it. The branch is cool in my hand. The sun has set low enough behind the trees to cloak half of the clearing in shadow. I didn't even notice. The branch warms up fast from the heat of my hand.
I stare at the branch in my hand, not knowing what to do. My three-year-old self was right, though. The leaves are pretty. Though I like them more when they're a little darker. People keep telling me the green of leaves at midsummer is the green of my eyes. I smile quietly to the countless memories of midsummer feasts. I think every single year someone has told me I have the eyes the color of the forest of that time of year.
I feel my hand warm up a little. The leaves on the branch grow a little, then a little more, gently shifting they're color into a few shades darker, the color of midsummer leaves. I drop the branch, terrified. I stare at it, terrified. Then I stare at my hand, even more terrified. The pony is munching something behind me.
I almost stop breathing for a moment. Then I break our laughing. I do have magic. It's not gone. For a moment I don't understand why I'm laughing, this is terrible. This is the worst thing in the world that could possibly happen. But then I understand.
It felt good. It felt so good. Using magic felt right. It felt like something I was born to do. It didn't feel evil, even though that's what I've been told my whole life. It felt like me, more like me than anything I've ever done before. This is who I am, this is who I'm supposed to be. Even if the whole world is against me. Which it isn't, a small voice says at the back of my head. Just this kingdom. And this kingdom is wrong. That much is clear to me now.
I stand up. It's getting chilly. Well, chilly enough I need some sleeves to stay warm. So I walk up to the pony, which is still munching on something, and dig out my cloak from my pack. I throw it over myself, untie the pony and head back to the academy before it gets too dark. Even so, I ride slow, enjoying myself, enjoying my new sense of me. I try to do some magic on the way, just to see what I can do. But it turns out the only thing I can figure out how to do is make some branches wave from a distance. It might also be the wind, but it's not that windy. And the other branches don't seem to move.
An hour and a half later I return the pony, confused by everything that's been going on in the last few days. It's already dark, so I head back to my dormitory room in the light of lanterns all over the campus.
___________________________________________________________
Ok, yeah, the initial setting kind of ended up a Merlin meets The Kingkiller Chronicles kind of thing, which you wouldn't notice, since you haven't read the Kingkiller-seires. Which you should do.
The good news is the rest of the story doesn't have to be anything like either. It can be something completely different. I hope it will be something completely different.
You know, the story has only just started and I already hate the fact that I'm going to miss six posts in July and someone else is going to write it, and that for that six weeks I'm completely powerless and something can go horribly not at all in-character with how I see the situation and the characters. I realise this is what happens all the time when we've been writing together, but this time we have kind of separate characters, so it's different. Aaaaaaaa why can't I write in Italy.
Aaanyway.
Your topic for Wednesday is Stories. Or Story, if you prefer.
~matu
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