“What just happened?” the philosopher asked quizzically. “You tell me, young man. You did it!”
Traven glanced down at the stone on the hilt of his sword. It must have had something to do with the might stone. There was no other explanation. The stones had magical properties. What he couldn’t figure out is why nothing like this had ever happened before with the sword.
“Light the lamp,” Studell demanded. Grumbling, Traven got off the bed to light it. He had been enjoying the dimness of the room. It didn’t bother his head as much.
“Not like that! Sit back down. I want you to light it using the ambience.” Traven sat back down leaving the lamp unlit.
“I don’t think the stone works that way,” he responded.
“Don’t use the stone. I want you to light the lamp by yourself.”
“I can’t do that,” Traven said in frustration. “I don’t have any magic. This is reality, not some legend from one of your old scrolls.”
“Oh, then maybe you can answer a few questions for me,” the philosopher began. “How did you save the princess from that monstrous serpent? How did you open the golden chest when no one else could? How in the world did you get your sword back after it had fallen into the depths of the ocean?”
He opened his mouth to respond but realized that he didn’t have answers for any of the questions. He supposed they all had to do with the might stones somehow, but he couldn’t prove it.
“See, you don’t know, do you? Now light that lamp!”
Traven let out a frustrated sigh. Studell wasn’t going to give up. He decided that he might as well try and prove the philosopher wrong. It had nothing to do with him. It was the might stones. He glanced at the hilt of his sword and then stared at the lamp. When nothing happened, Studell began to mutter under his breath impatiently.
“Well, what did you expect?” Traven asked.
“I expected you to light that lamp!” exclaimed the philosopher.
Traven turned back to the lamp, frustrated. He focused on it and wondered how it would feel to use magic. Slowly the lamp began to fill his vision, and Studell’s mumbling and the rocking of the ship faded away. The air around the wick of the lamp seemed to be thickening. He could almost see a flame. He shook his head and stared back at the lamp. He couldn’t really see it, but he felt that it was there. The thickened air slowly began to swirl inside of the lamp, gaining speed as it moved around the wick. There was a flame there! He could feel it even though he still couldn’t see it. He could feel it with his mind. The flame felt like it was just beyond sight. He concentrated on the flame and pulled on it. The flame burst into sight, lighting the lamp, and Traven blacked out.
He came to as Philosopher Studell excitedly shook him awake. He sat up groggily with a splitting headache. He watched silently as the philosopher kept looking between him and the lighted lamp with a silly expression on his face. What had just occurred slowly came back to him as the fuzziness left his head. The last thing he remembered was the flame suddenly appearing. Had he really created it?
“How long was I out?” he mumbled.
“Only a few moments. I saw the lamp burst to life! When I turned to congratulate you, you were slumped down on the bed, so I shook you awake. This is amazing!”
Traven looked back at the lamp. Had it really happened? He wanted to deny it, but Studell had witnessed it as well. He had somehow lit the lamp without physically touching it. He had somehow used the ambience. That in itself troubled and confused him. What worried him even more was what had happened to him as a result. He had blacked out and now had a splitting headache. It appeared that it was dangerous to tamper with magic. He wondered if it would be bad enough to do permanent damage or even kill him if he meddled in things that he didn’t understand. He slumped back onto the bed, with his head in his hands and his eyes closed.
“Do it again,” Studell said excitedly as he blew out the lamp.
“No,” Traven mumbled from the bed with his eyes still closed and his head still reeling.
“What do you mean no?” Studell demanded. “You can’t just do something as amazing as that and then stop. Light the lamp again!”
“It’s too dangerous,” Traven replied. “You saw what just happened. I blacked out after lighting the candle. And if I really did somehow use the ambience in the cave as you suggested, it left me almost dead. I shouldn’t be tampering with something I don’t even understand.”
“Well, you’ll never learn to control your power if you don’t practice it. Besides,” countered the philosopher, “I have never read anything about the ambience being dangerous to a wielder.”
“Then how do you explain what just happened to me?” he asked. Studell threw up his hands in exasperation.
“Sometimes you must sacrifice for knowledge,” he exclaimed.
Traven took a deep breath and sat back up. He’d try one more time and see what happened. If he blacked out again, he would stop this nonsense until he could learn more about the ambience and wielding it.
The lamp filled his vision. He concentrated on lighting it. Once again the air seemed to thicken and circle around the point where the flame should be. He could feel where the flame was just out of sight. He reached for it with his mind and pulled it into reality.
The lamp once again burst to light with a flame seemingly appearing out of thin air. Traven put his hand down on the bed next to him and steadied himself as he dizzily closed his eyes. The feat had increased the intensity of his headache, but at least he hadn’t passed out this time. The use of the ambience definitely had a negative effect on his health, but maybe it would not always be as bad as he had feared.
“You are definitely a wielder!” exclaimed Studell excitedly. He was looking back and forth between the lamp and Traven with a silly grin on his face. “What else can you do? How long have you had this power? Oh my, it’s true! There really were wielders! Of course I already knew that but when you see something like . . .”
Traven shut out the philosopher’s ramblings and laid back down on the bed. He rubbed his head and neck, trying to soothe the pounding. He felt incredibly drained as if he had done a whole day’s work of hauling logs.
“Oh, sorry,” Studell apologized. “I’ll let you have some rest. Later we’ll get some more answers!”
“Please don’t say anything about this to anyone,” Traven mumbled as the philosopher opened the door to leave. Studell paused before closing the door.
“You’re right, young man. It would be unwise to let it out that you are a wielder until we know more about your power. I’ll try and smooth over the sword incident with the captain.”
Studell then closed the door, leaving him alone. Traven sat back up and blew out the lamp before slowly pulling himself up onto his bunk. He wanted to think about all that had just happened, but his head was still pounding and he was too tired. He soon drifted off to sleep in the small, cramped cabin as the ship continued rocking back and forth.
3
Traven woke up with his head feeling better but his stomach feeling worse. The ship was lurching back and forth, not gently rolling on the water anymore. He got off his bunk and stretched, placing his hand against the wall to steady himself. As he stood in the dark, he thought of everything that had happened to him that morning. Apparently he really was some kind of wielder. He, of all people, somehow had the ability to manipulate the power known as the ambience. The thought brought with it a mixture of both excitement and fear.
He wondered what all he could actually do with his powers. If he could light a lamp, he could definitely do other things. But how would he learn how to do them? He knew that there was danger in using the ambience without knowing more about it. How could he be safe and learn to wield the ambience without some kind of guidance? He supposed that Studell probably knew as much about it as anyone alive that wasn’t a wielder himself. Perhaps if he was very careful he could experiment a little and learn how to safely use his newfound power.
Traven smoothed out his clothes and headed up on deck. He hoped the fresh air would help to calm his stomach. He was met by a stiff wind that blasted him in the face as he stepped outside. Above, the sky roiled with ominous gray clouds. The sailors were running around, finishing taking down the sails and cleaning up the deck before the storm broke. Traven located Studell at the front of the ship and made his way over to him. As he passed by the sailors, he noticed them giving him sidelong glances. Some looked with interest while others glanced with fear. He finished walking to the philosopher’s side, feeling very uncomfortable.
“I thought you were going to sleep all day!” Studell exclaimed when he suddenly noticed Traven standing next to him.
“I didn’t sleep that long, did I?” he asked as he glanced up at the sky. It was impossible to tell what time of the day it was with the dark clouds overhead.
“It’s the middle of the afternoon,” Studell replied. Traven was surprised that he had slept so long. At least his headache was gone.
“So how did things go with the captain? The sailors are giving me strange looks.”
“I tried to smooth everything over by telling the captain that the sword came back because it has a magic stone and that it had nothing to do with you. I don’t think he believed me.” Studell glanced backwards over the ship and over the various sailors. “The captain wasn’t the only one that saw it. Some of the sailors think you practice black magic and that it is bad luck to have you onboard. They want to throw you overboard.”
“They what!” Traven exclaimed looking at the choppy water.
“Oh don’t worry. The captain won’t let them,” replied the philosopher. “However, I do think they will all be happier once they deliver us to our destination and you are off the ship. I believe it would be best if you didn’t do anything else like that in sight of the crew.”
A wry smile crossed Traven’s face. He definitely wouldn’t be wielding the ambience in sight of the others. He wasn’t even sure if he would be wielding it at all. He glanced up as he felt a drop of water splatter on his hand and suggested they go below deck before they got soaked. Studell agreed, and they hurried down below as it started to rain.
The next couple of days were spent below deck as the storm continued to pound the ship. They remained in their cramped cabin during most of the tempest, but they also spent time with the captain and first mate. Studell quizzed them on the exact type of terrain they would be facing when they landed on Faldor’s Watch. He got as much information from them about what type of supplies he and Traven would need as he could. After wringing every last drop of information out of them, he was satisfied that they would be able to get everything they needed when they stopped in the port of Jatz.
Without room to practice his sword forms below deck, Traven spent much of his time practicing lighting the lamp with the ambience. He also figured out how to extinguish the flame with a mere thought. At first he had been hesitant to wield the ambience when Studell insisted that he keep practicing. Luckily, each time he did it, it seemed easier to do and had less of a negative physical effect on him. By the end of the second day below deck, he could light and extinguish the lamp several times in a row without getting a headache or feeling very tired.
Thankfully the storm dissipated on the third day and the sun returned to the sky. Traven excitedly stretched and went through his sword forms on deck. He tried not to notice the growing crowd of sailors watching him and focused on his forms. The fresh air and sunlight were more than welcome after so much time below deck in the cramped ship. The captain had said they would dock in port around midday, and Traven was excited to have solid ground beneath his feet once again. After practicing his forms, he got ready for the day and had some breakfast. He then returned to the deck and eagerly watched as they slowly sailed closer to the strip of land in the distance.
When they finally slipped into the bay, Studell came over to him, weighed down by a small but heavy brown bag that clanked as he walked. He had an excited smile on his face and stared at the port city of Jatz.
“The captain says the ship will leave early tomorrow morning to take us the rest of the way. This afternoon the sailors will be unloading the ship’s cargo and restocking for the return journey to Calyn. That should give us plenty of time to purchase everything we need.” Studell patted the bulging sack at his waist and smiled. “Tomorrow we will begin to follow the map. How exciting!”
Traven smiled and watched as the ship slowly made its way to the large dock. He was more anxious to have solid ground under his feet than he was for anything else. Once the ship was solidly attached to the dock by several ropes, the gangplank was lowered. Traven hurried down it as Studell slowly followed. He took a deep breath of relief once they were off the dock and he was on solid earth. He had gotten somewhat used to the ocean but still felt much more comfortable on firm ground.
“Shall we?” Studell invited as he made his way past him and into the city.
Traven followed happily. The city of Jatz was very different from Calyn. The buildings were not built for beauty but for functionality. The people that walked the streets were also a rougher looking sort of people. Almost everyone carried a sword, even some of the women. Their clothes were not as fine as those in Calyn, and Traven felt out of place in his fancy, dark clothes. Several people gave him an appraising look as he walked past, making him feel slightly uncomfortable.
After walking a short distance, they found a cluster of shops that appeared to have what they needed. The captain had said that the best gear for traveling in the harsh desert was robes and head wraps. It sounded strange to be wearing so much in such a hot place, but the captain was insistent that it was the best way to be protected from the sun and sand. Traven and Studell turned into a clothing shop and were happy to find that among the sturdy clothing available, there were robes and head wraps. They each selected a robe and a head wrap and took them up to the shopkeeper.