by Devon Vesper
“Why don’t we go spar for an hour or so?” The question tore Valis out of his thoughts. Tavros glanced over, his clear gray eyes shadowed with worry. “It isn’t healthy for you to be this angry.”
Sighing, Valis nodded. “A spar might be best, yes.”
“Then let’s go. We have a while yet before bed. Let’s get sweaty.”
Chapter Nine
By the next day, Valis was still seething. The spar only did so much to help curb his anger. It helped just enough to enable him to sleep, but nightmares woke Valis in a pool of sweat with a scream echoing in the room. Tavros’s eyes that morning were wide and worried as he pulled Valis to his chest and murmured words of comfort and love, stroking his sweaty hair and rocking until Valis calmed.
After Valis finally calmed from the nightmare of Darolen’s painful death, the anger swarmed him again, suffocating and hot enough to make him want to claw his own skin off. The more he thought of Darolen sitting in his own stinking filth, starving and bleeding from his bonds, the more Valis wanted to rip Brother Bachris’s face off for denying him the right to search for his father, friend or not. And the fact that Brother Bachris was his friend felt like the vilest of betrayals until Valis struggled to just breathe.
He’d almost thrown his hairbrush at the mirror after his bath, but Tavros massaged his hand until he released it, and took over brushing Valis’s long hair, being as gentle as possible to try to calm Valis’s ire.
Unlike normal, it didn’t work as planned.
“You have to calm down before you train the reliquary guards,” Tavros murmured. “It’s dangerous for all of us if your anger makes you fall into the darkness.”
Valis rested his head on Tavros’s shoulder and groaned. “I know. Perhaps we’ll work on speed with raising partial shields instead of anything to do with black magic. I can’t risk it with as pissed as I am.”
“You’re shaking.” With Tavros’s quiet whisper against his ear, he smoothed his hands down Valis’s back and around to massage his trembling hands. “I’ve never seen you this angry before.”
“He just… dismissed the idea of rescuing Father,” Valis muttered. “Like his life doesn’t matter. Like he’s nothing! How could anyone, especially a priest, be so… so heartless?”
“I don’t know, love.” Tavros wrapped his arms around Valis and held him like a treasure, his embrace warm and secure, his hands rubbing up and down Valis’s spine in slow strokes that did, somewhat, alleviate some of Valis’s tension, if not his anger. “I wish I did. He has his reasons, and we’ll try again later, okay?”
Valis let out an explosive breath and tucked his face into the curve of Tavros’s neck and shoulder, huffing his husband’s scent. “It feels like I’m failing Father, you know? Like this is a test, and I’m failing, and not because I’m not prepared, but because one person won’t let me succeed.”
Tavros’s sigh tickled Valis’s neck, and he shivered. “You’re not failing anyone, Valis. It’s just a bump in the road. We’ll keep trying. In the meantime, we’ll keep preparing, just in case.”
“Yeah.” Valis sighed and clutched the back of Tavros’s tunic. “Yeah. We’ll keep trying.”
After training with the translocation students and reliquary guards, Valis’s anger had become slightly more manageable. At least he hadn’t barked his orders at them. He’d had enough control to keep his voice level and calm for the most part, and everyone seemed to understand when he lost his composure the few times his control slipped.
When the last reliquary guard had left, Valis ate breakfast with a few of his students, as well as Tavros, Seza and Zhasina. Then they were off to visit Aryn. It seemed like a whirlwind of required engagements loomed ahead. But when he sat in his fathers’ suite with Kerac’s hand in his, he thought he might have some downtime.
Then Thyran came in, and Valis groaned.
“You seem unhappy to see me,” Thyran said, his tone amused.
“I’m just trying to calm down and have some time to myself,” Valis groused.
Kerac chuckled and patted Valis’s thigh. “Tough morning?”
“You could say that, yes.”
Thyran drew closer and squeezed Valis’s shoulder. “Things will even out. But, for now, I would like you to accompany me to the temple for training. You have been lax since before your joining night, and we have a bit more to go before you are competent in your scrying skills.”
“But—”
Another rusty laugh from Kerac and he waved Valis away. “Go on, son. You can come back and keep me company when you have more time. I think I should rest, at any rate. I find I’m quite tired.”
Sighing, Valis stood and kissed Kerac’s forehead. “Fine. I’ll see you sometime this afternoon.”
“You’d better.” Kerac winked and settled, and Valis tucked the covers up near his chin.
When his papa was comfortable, Valis forced himself to turn around and follow Thyran out. He smiled slightly when Tavros waylaid him with a kiss and whispered near his ear. “I’ll keep watch over him until the next watch arrives. Then I’ll find you.”
“Sounds good,” Valis murmured.
As Thyran led Valis from the suite, Valis rubbed at his tired eyes and sighed. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”
Thyran smiled back at him and waited for him to catch up so they could walk side-by-side. “First, I wish to teach you how to keep others from interfering with or listening in on your scrying sessions. Then, you need to learn how to block mental attacks. It has little to do with scrying, but is useful, nonetheless. After, we might have a bit of fun, but only if the first two lessons go well.”
During the long walk up through the monastery to the temple, Valis tried to calm himself down. Teaching others while he was in a pissed-off rage was one thing. Learning anything in this state could either be disastrous or completely useless. Thyran had better things to do than teach someone who had their blood boiling so hot that they were only capable of lashing out at others.
“Your mind is rather tumultuous today,” Thyran remarked. “You should let the anger go, Valis. Nothing good will come of it, and you will be better able to achieve your goals with a calm, level head.”
“Yeah. I know,” Valis muttered. “I’ve just never really been this angry before. At least, if I have, I don’t remember it. It’s consuming, and I feel like my blood is about to catch fire.”
“Things will settle down. You’ll see.” Thyran nodded to the Aesriphos at the doors to the temple and the women pulled them open, revealing the bright Hall of Communion within. Thyran shaded Valis’s eyes from the Light of Phaerith with a chuckle, and Valis forced his eyes down to follow the sapphire blue runner that led the way toward the back of the room and the reliquary beyond.
When Thyran was certain Valis wouldn’t get lost in the Light, he lowered his hand and guided Valis by his elbow until they entered the reliquary. The doors boomed shut behind them, echoing in the space, though Valis still had no idea how with as full of books and shelves as the room was. But, the sepulcher quiet of the room let Valis relax, almost as if the familiar room with its familiar scents and artifacts were more home than the suite he shared with Tavros.
Almost.
“You seem to have relaxed,” Thyran noted. “Good. Perhaps the lessons will go by swiftly for you.”
Valis shrugged and scratched his chest, having removed his armor before he went to see his papa. “Coming in here kind of muted my anger. Not sure how or why, but I’ll take it.”
“Excellent. Let’s get started.”
Thyran raked his hands through his salt and pepper hair and headed to the long table that bisected the room length-wise. As he leaned on it, he clasped his hands in front of him and smiled. “You have proven that you can do almost anything that you set your mind to, even with minimal—if any—training. I am fairly certain that the reason you were so unsuccessful with your scrying is because Aryn had somehow blocked your ability to do so, whether by force of will or by acc
ident. So, I want you to put that temporary failure out of your mind and focus today. Can you do that?”
Valis rolled his shoulders and nodded. “Yes, sir. I think you’re right about Aryn. Once I broke through his hold, I was able to scry easily for the most part. And I think I was only able to break through because of how weak and exhausted he had become.”
“I believe so, too.” He motioned to the stacks where Valis had spent way too long attempting his scrying lessons, and Valis instinctively groaned. “Go ahead and get situated. There is already water in the scrying bowl. We will begin with the first lesson: learning how to block others from listening in or tampering with your scrying. To do this—”
“I just need to shield my mind and the bowl,” Valis muttered. “Make it impenetrable from any attack, physical, mental, or magical.”
Thyran raised both brows. “Perhaps. Let us see if it works in practice. If it does with great success… we may disseminate that tactic to the rest of the monastery.”
Valis tilted his head. “That’s not the way it’s usually done?”
His mentor chuckled, and his blue eyes flashed with pride. “No. It is not. However, your way would be much faster, as well as likely stronger than the other way, especially for those who lack the ability to focus as hard as others.”
He lifted a finger. “But… it would have the drawback of not allowing two-way communication.”
Valis shrugged and smirked. “Unless I add to the shield that anyone with gold magic can penetrate the scry for any reason.”
“You and your surprises!” Thyran snorted and waved to the stacks. “Get back there and show me what you can do.”
An hour later, Thyran called a halt to the training and when Valis exited the alcove, he found his mentor and friend wiping sweat from his brow. “Excellent work,” he said in a raspy, tired voice. “I think that went better than I expected.”
“You think?” Valis teased.
“Hush, imp.” Thyran smirked and rubbed his eyes. “You’ve given me quite the headache. What did you do?”
“I added a parameter to the shield that any outside force trying to interfere with my scry would receive a shock to interrupt their own scrying and focus.”
Thyran grunted. “It worked. A little too well.”
A pang of worry hit Valis in the chest and stomach. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I didn’t intend for the shocks to hurt.”
“They were more annoying than anything,” Thyran assured. “I will be fine. But, I think that is enough scrying training for the day.”
“And the mental attacks?”
Thyran gave him a look that asked if he was insane. “I think you have that down, as well. It would be the same principle for you.”
“Yeah. I thought as much.” Valis rubbed his shoulder and cracked a yawn. “So, what’s next?”
Thyran grinned, this evil thing that made Valis’s insides clench. “I thought we might have some fun.”
“I don’t trust that grin,” Valis muttered. “Evil shit.”
“Oh, you might be surprised. Today, I had thought to teach you levitation.”
Valis perked up at that and stared at Thyran with a perked brow because he already knew how to levitate things. Apparently, he never told Thyran. “Really?”
“Yes. Come on. We have little time to spare.”
Ah, well. It wouldn’t hurt to learn a new way of performing the task, and humoring Thyran wouldn’t hurt anything. And with the way his gut pitted, he knew it would be stupid to fight it.
Fortunately, Thyran wasn’t privy to his thoughts. His grin never dimmed as he guided Valis out of the reliquary and down through the halls to the arena. Once they arrived, Valis watched as Thyran took in the few people who trained within. Some wielded wooden swords against training dummies, while others sparred amongst themselves, either in bare-hands combat or with their own wooden swords.
After a moment, Thyran clapped his hands, the sound echoing loudly through the cavernous room. “Attention, please. May I have your attention?”
Everyone stopped mid-swing and turned toward Thyran. “What can we help you with?” one of the men asked.
Thyran smiled and motioned to Valis. “I must ask you all to vacate the arena. I have a very destructive training session today with Valis, and it would be much better if there is no one here but us so there are no casualties. Please give us at least 2-3 hours before you return, for your safety. And please send a pair of Aesriphos to stand guard to keep anyone from entering during our allotted time.”
“We’ll stick around for guard duty,” Cassavin said, motioning to her partner, Nevesar. Valis glanced at the two, nodding his thanks. They were two of his best students in the reliquary guard force, attentive and quick studies, so he felt safe with their guard and nodded his approval.
She continued with his acceptance, giving him a small smile. “We were almost done training, anyway, and our next duty doesn’t begin for four hours.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Cassavin.”
The women nodded and filed out with the rest, only they took up post on either side of the entry in the hall. Valis waited until the last person left and wrinkled his nose.
“Why is it so dangerous?”
Thyran turned to him and shrugged. “If you remember the time I showed you with the pillow, it is a multi-directional push and pull. If you don’t exert enough push and an equal pull, you can make whatever you levitate explode. And, it is rather disastrous if done with people or animals.”
“Oh, gross.”
“Indeed.”
“So…”
Thyran moved deeper into the arena and laid a hand on one of the straw and wood training dummies, just like the ones Valis had destroyed during his magic training. “In order to levitate something, you must push from the bottom, while pulling from the top. Push from the side opposite where you wish it to go and pull from the side where it is going. Plus, push on either side to keep it from toppling over.”
Grunting, Valis stepped up and regarded the training dummy. “That sounds like an awful lot of work for a single spell. And Tavros and I didn’t do it that way when we levitated the shield full of fish out of the river and onto the magical litter. And we levitated the litter from the river back to the Kalutakeni caravan for food.”
“You… did what?”
Valis shrugged. “We didn’t think about it. We just did it. Intent is what matters, more than logistics or training. It was laughably easy.”
“But—”
He took pity on his mentor and motioned to the training dummy. “I want to learn this way, too, though.”
Thyran furrowed his brows. “Whatever for?”
Another shrug and Valis glanced down at his boots. “I don’t know. It feels precognitive, so I’m just going to go with that. I need to learn it, and I’m willing to give it a shot.”
“Very well.”
As Thyran took a moment to regain his composure, Valis stared at the training dummy. He had been casting via intent for so long that he wasn’t sure he could cast any other way again. But his gut said he had to try. Every time he thought the word levitate and looked at Thyran, his gut pitted again, and he ended up rubbing it to try to get that awful feeling to abate. At least it wasn’t making him physically ill. But he knew it was important just the same.
“For this, Valis, you will be calling upon Dapen, the Goddess of mobility, direction, and journey. You must have the directions firmly in your mind, concentrating on the correct push and pull to achieve the height you want, as well as its final destination.” He patted the training dummy and stepped away behind Valis. “Shield us and move the dummy across the arena.”
Valis snapped up his shield, then made it invisible so that its golden glow wouldn’t interfere with his concentration. When Thyran gasped, Valis chuckled.
“You need to quit surprising me, young man,” Thyran muttered. “I’m getting too old for this.”
“And I’m a layman,” Valis teased.
Still laughing, Valis tried to calm himself and when he managed it, he cast up a prayer to Dapen with his destination and height in mind. He tried to visualize the push and pull he needed on each side, but as the training dummy started to lift, the entire thing began shaking. Valis managed to move it two feet before the shaking became so violent that straw fell from it like fall leaves. Then, before Valis could do anything to salvage the situation, it exploded in a spray of splinters and straw dust, coating almost every inch of the arena floor in a catastrophic mess.
“You do realize you will be on clean-up duty after this, yes?” Thyran teased. “Try again.”
Groaning, Valis tried again. This time, he got the training dummy a foot and a half before it exploded, just the same as the first.
After twenty-three dummies, Valis was ready to give up. He rubbed his forehead, wiped away the sweat that slicked his face and ran down his temples. “Fuck.”
“What is the problem?” Thyran asked in that fatherly tone he sometimes used. “You seem stressed.”
Valis grunted and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. “Brother Bachris.”
“Ah.”
“It’s driving me insane. He’s acting like my father means nothing. He said trying to rescue him was foolish, for fuck’s sake! And I can’t sleep well, because I keep having nightmares of Father dying, and wake up screaming in the mornings, scaring Tavros half to death. It’s just… I’m so angry that I’m afraid I’m going to combust or explode like these fucking dummies!”
“There is little you can do for now,” Thyran said. He squeezed Valis’s shoulder and looked him in the eye, his expression oddly serious. “Give it time.”
“Father doesn’t have time!”
“He may have more than you imagine.” With a soft sigh, Thyran rubbed his own furrowed brow and glanced around at the mess Valis had created. “I know you are angry, and your anger is valid. But, use it to your advantage, instead of letting it rule you.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” Valis threw his hands up and started pacing, his boots crunching in the splinters. “He won’t listen!”