He nods. “Indeed, but excuse me if I return yours with a counter question first: What is the last thing you recall?” He’s passing the ball back to me. No fair, although helpful to sort out my thoughts. So, what happened? I remember I got a hold on the first strand of earth my mental tools could seize. “I really did it, right?” I ask, beaming probably bigger than ever in my life. A grin I reduce to a tight-lipped smile, after Kindle recoils from me by almost a foot. The display of an entire mouthful of sharp, feline teeth can be unnerving, all the more if you’re a rodent. More restrained I try it anew: “Well, it worked?” “Erm, it worked, kind of. The definition is rather strained, though. You knocked yourself out with that stone. “ “It did float, I knew it!” No doubt, my triumph-laden expression confuses the mage to no end. “Float? The crack when it collided with your forehead was loud enough to be heard at the other side of the valley. I was seriously afraid you killed yourself! We have to thank god you have such a thick skull.” I raise an unsteady hand to flick one of my fuzzy ears. “According to a certain healer, and I quote her: ‘Everything between those lugs is solid bone, not even the expected hollow space’. Hits on my head don’t hit anything vital.” Aww, poor Kindle, gallows humor is wasted on him at the moment, so I change subject. With his help – more good intention than actual support, after all, he’s a scrawny little snack… mouse! I was about to say mouse! – We’re managing it to lie me down on his more comfortable divan. “Your opinion, Kindle. What do you think?” For a time he’s crossing his arms and looks to the ceiling, then nods. “You have a strong affinity for the earth element. It’s awful early and unprofessional to speculate, but you could be a more specialized user of the magic arts; perhaps of southern tutelage.” Can’t help it, I have to smirk and also show my fangs again. “Southern, eh? You realize that, from our point of view, practically everything is south?” “Well, then the possibility of me being wrong is slim”, he giggles. “Kidding aside, do you know about the difference between the magic traditions of the northern and southern parts of our world?” “Now I know there is one.” He sighs. “To make it short and very simple: Northern tradition is mostly generalist, the mages of the south are more specialized on certain aspects of magic.” “Ah, now I follow. Someone like Dustin’s ‘firefoxy’.” “Fire-what?” “A little, gray, grumpy, flame throwing fox mage he knows.” “Oh, that one.” Enthusiasm certainly looks different. “He is a special case. In every definition of the term.” We call it a day at this point. We have much achieved and I need to recover from the hit I took. I shall see a physician and inform Kindle when I’m ready to continue our session. And the mage insists I see a healer first. At least it’s an excuse to visit Kiba. ***** I close the door to my room and lock out the noise from Dustin’s bubbly household. As much as I would’ve liked to spend more time with them, exhaustion kicks in hard. Tired enough to not even discuss with Kiba, after he demanded, I have to wait at least three days until my next lesson in magic. Placing the candlestick on the nightstand, I let me fall onto my bed, with a pleased, heart deep sigh. Questionable tactical decision, now it’s harder to remove belt and kilt. The thought of standing up is crossing my mind, but leaves unnoticed. After some struggling my sparse clothing rests beside me; my look falls upon the belt pouch. There’s a notebook that demands attention, but for one time I choose to ignore it. Gods, I’m tired… A good dozen of them had made it through the breach. I don’t know what they had expected. Surely they hoped for weak resistance, believing our forces too far stretched to allow reserves. Well, my brothers and I are standing here to prove them wrong... Bleary eyes are still not able to look straight, but my hand is already searching where I left my stuff earlier. Retrieving book and writing utensils a series of well-known motions, it practically works by itself. The candle is still lit and had only devoured wax worth of three hours by now. So much for sleeping. Forgotten is the crushing tiredness that forced me down. A nervous, giddy energy makes my body shaking in eagerness to bring down to paper, what occurred to me in sleep – again! This time, though, I’m able to keep most of it. Pensively I read through what I’ve written during the last two-or-so hours; several pages, filled with my awful, haste-driven handwriting. The gaps in the descriptions are gaping holes to me. No, still no clue what my human face once looked like. And the academy, what was its full name or mine, damn it?! I bury my mouth in a pillow to stifle a cry of frustration. Calm down, Mark! You made great progress today, don’t be so bloody stupid. See the glass as what it is: Half full instead of half empty! And it is, I mean, that’s totally awesome! Suddenly there isn’t just a stranger with no past, protagonist of so many tacky adventure stories. My memories are coming back. Oh, I’m surely grinning like an idiot now. It’s a small miracle I’m not jumping around, screaming like a donkey. I’d like to, though. Oooh yeah, but I don’t want to wake my hosts up. Tomorrow is early enough to break the good news down to them, maybe reinforced with research in the library. Tomorrow is tomorrow. Now I’m in the mood to visit the Deaf Mule. Gods, listen to me, I can’t stop giggling. Screw it, I don’t care! Let them look at me funny, I hope they will have more reason to, when I’m coming back from the tavern. With a bounce unthinkable a few hours ago I jump out of the bed and toward the drawer. My good kilt, the one made from dark blue wool seems proper. The cold tiles beneath my paws sparking (or re-evoking) another recall, letting me pause on my way to the door. The one about this grandmaster who gave me water, who called me brother master. About him, attuned to the solid rock under his bare feet. A strong affinity to rock you said, Kindle? I somehow know what to do. It’s exactly like the painful experience with the piano. Only this time my clumsy fingers won’t be required. Finally an art I will not stand myself in the way (not physically). Kiba said I have to wait, but I can’t, I have to try it out or it will rip me apart! I close my eyes and focus on the stone all around me, going through the mental routines which flowing, one by one, back to me. At first it’s weird, the longer it goes, though, it’s like slipping on an old shoe (would be rough on those furry paws, but I guess you get my picture). I start to sense the hewn granite on floor and walls on a level I cannot define (again this magic-versus-mundane thingy), its age, its hardness, its portly weight. Slowly, slowly it becomes a part of me. I feel heavy, but not the heaviness of exhaustion, more like accumulating bulk, together with the additional strength it brings. With the power comes coldness. Well, that’s a little unsettling. Stone is the opposite of warm, living flesh, but does it have to feel so uncomfortable? And a slight at first, but rapidly increasing numbness climbs up my legs. Wait, what?! With a start my eyes are open. I would have stumbled around for a few steps, because with concentration equilibrium left me likewise. Emphasis on “would”, since My. Legs. Don’t. Move! It’s like my paws are bolted down to the tiles. Doesn’t matter what I’m trying, I get not even a flinch, like everything downward my hip turned… to… stone. Merciful gods, I didn’t, did I? Relax Mark, breathe. Panic won’t do you any good. All right, with a moment of relative calm I realize that the numbness is still creeping higher! Serenity gets kicked out of the estate, as I let loose the most embarrassing, girly scream everyone will ever hear from me again. Somewhere on the way I’m running out of air, just in time to hear the patting of little feet, nearing swiftly. Dustin, of course; wide eyed, bed headed, fluttering nightgown, knife in his clenched fist. After noticing I’m alone and no monster jumped out from nowhere, he assumes a less stressed posture and lowers his weapon. “Sheesh, Spotty, what happened now?” And because he is Dustin, he simply has to ask: “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of spiders?” He does it with this annoying smile, dancing on the edge between provoking the urge to laugh alongside and the wish to slap him I don’t think of either one, arms now frozen, too. “No time for jokes, get Kindle!” I bark, returning his perplexed expression with a more urgent: “The mage, quick!” Argh, no! I can’t move my jaw anymore! “Hllllp!”
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