Nature's Servant

by Duncan Pile

  Was that why he was fascinated by her? Her power? He lay still as he contemplated the answer. It didn’t feel like that was quite right. Her power was certainly enticing, but it was more than that. It was because of the way she spoke to him. None of the other girls had ever treated him with much respect, and the boys had been jealous of him, and only ever tolerated him at best. Then there was Everand, who he’d once thought of as a friend, but the self-important fool had only befriended him because he considered himself superior and wanted a lackey. He had allowed him to be his friend for exactly as long as it made him look good to have him around, but when push came to shove, his friendship had been proven false. He had dropped him like a rotten piece of fruit. Ferast felt a rush of venomous anger towards his former friend, but he pushed it away, preferring to dwell instead on thoughts of Emea. She had rejected him too, but he was willing to forgive that. She was influenced by the Nature Mage, bewitched by his powers, and she had taken Gaspi’s side over his own.

  It still hurt to think about that day in the quad, but Ferast was willing to overlook what happened. Emea was too sweet, too pure, to see the Nature Mage for what he was, but when he next saw her things would be different. She would see how he’d grown, what he’d become, and if that didn’t draw her to his side, then he’d make it happen, and she’d come to understand in time. The most important thing was to learn everything he could from Shirukai Sestin, so that when the time came and he met her again, he’d be at the height of his powers.

  Forty-Three

  Gaspi and Taurnil entered the quad along with Rimulth, ready for their regular sparring session. They were dead on time, but a quick glance around told them that Jonn and Voltan weren’t there yet. A smattering of people stood around the edge of the quad, eager to watch them fight. Over the months they’d been doing this, the number of spectators had swelled and then dwindled again as the novelty faded, leaving a hard core of dedicated fans who watched almost every session. To Gaspi’s surprise, Everand was there with Baard. The tall boy stiffened as soon as he saw them and turned his back. Baard waved cheerfully and started across the quad towards them, but Everand barked something at his sparring partner and the ginger-bearded fighter came to a halt, frowning in frustration as he returned to Everand’s side.

  “Looks like Everand’s on form,” Gaspi said sarcastically.

  “What an idiot,” Taurnil agreed just as Voltan came stalking into the quad, followed by Jonn. He walked to the centre of the quad and summoned Gaspi and Taurnil with a single, curling finger. With the same finger, he beckoned at Everand and Baard. Surely he wasn’t going to make them spar?

  “Loreill, stay with Rimulth,” Gaspi said, and the elemental chittered in acknowledgement. They walked over to Voltan, where they were joined by Everand and Baard.

  “Today’s sparring session will be a little different,” Voltan began without preamble. “We will all be competing together next week, and although I understand that there is some animosity between you, I want you to put that aside for the duration of the Measure. Whatever disagreements you have will be shelved until the tournament is over. I want you to spar with each other today in a sportsmanlike manner. Agreed?” Voltan looked sharply from Everand to Gaspi.

  Gaspi repressed a surge of resentment and gave a reluctant nod.

  Everand took longer to respond. “Sir,” he began, his voice tight with tension. “I want nothing to do with anyone who consorts with demons.” Gaspi glanced at him in surprise. Unless he was mistaken, Everand didn’t sound a hundred percent sure of himself.

  “Are you referring to the elementals?” Voltan asked in a dangerous voice.

  “If that’s what you call them, yes,” Everand responded, doing his best to stand up to Voltan, but the pallor of his skin and a twitch below his eye gave away his lack of conviction.

  “That’s the most idiotic thing anyone has ever said to me,” Voltan said with such disdain that Gaspi almost winced. “Are you honestly saying you can’t tell the difference between a spirit and a demon?” he asked. “You were here last year. You fought in the battle against the demons?”

  “Yes Sir,” Everand said, looking cornered.

  “And you can’t tell the difference?”

  Everand looked flustered and uncertain. “They are unnatural,” he muttered.

  Voltan clenched his fists, boiling with obvious anger. “Are you saying you will not spar with Gaspi?”

  “Yes I am,” Everand said more firmly, back on safer territory now.

  “Then you will fight with me,” Voltan said, spinning round and whipping his black cloak off and handing it to Gaspi.

  “Sir…” Gaspi began, anxious to head off what was likely to be a disastrous confrontation. Much as he wanted Everand to learn a lesson, this seemed like a bad idea.

  “Gaspi, Taurnil, over there!” Voltan said in a tone that brooked no argument, and they re-joined Rimulth at the side of the quad.

  “What’s going on?” Rimulth asked.

  “Voltan’s fighting Everand,” Taurnil answered.

  “This isn’t good,” Gaspi said.

  “Er…yes it is,” Taurnil contradicted him, eagerly watching the unfolding drama. Gaspi couldn’t help smiling at Taurnil’s keen sense of justice, but he had a bad feeling in his gut nonetheless.

  “Square off!” Voltan commanded from the centre of the courtyard, and the two teams stepped back, adopting a battle-ready stance.

  Gaspi was close enough to see the shrug Jonn and Baard exchanged as they lifted their weapons. Voltan on the other hand radiated a palpable sense of danger. He cut quite a figure, dressed in tight-fitting black, poised on the balls of his feet, hands extended for battle. Everand tried to match him, using his athletic physique to loom over the warrior mage, but there was no doubt in Gaspi’s mind that Voltan was going to rip him to shreds.

  “Begin,” Voltan barked, spinning out of the way of Everand’s immediate strike. He responded by flinging out a low force strike, flattened and elongated to take the legs out from under both Everand and Baard. Everand jumped over it but Baard was thrown unceremoniously to the ground, landing with a loud clatter of clashing armour. Jonn didn’t take advantage, giving Baard time to get back to his feet before re-engaging. The two fighters seemed hesitant to attack each other in earnest, leaving plenty of clear space between them and the magicians.

  Everand stamped his foot, sending an earth strike rippling through the dirt of the quad while simultaneously flicking out a short, sharp force strike at Voltan’s head. It was a pretty good double attack and for a second Gaspi thought it might work, but the hawk-faced Warrior flattened a hand over the ground, using his superior magical strength to keep the strike from affecting the dirt around him. It passed on by without causing him so much as a wobble. At the same time, he reached out and snatched Everand’s force strike from the air with his other hand and flung it back at him. He must have added strength to the strike, as it was both harder and faster than the one he’d caught. Everand spread his hands, summoning a shield to defend against the retaliatory strike, and when it hit, the shield glowed deep red and he stumbled backwards, barely staying on his feet. In the background, Jonn and Baard sparred, their hearts clearly not in it as they exchanged blows by rote.

  “Come on then Everand,” Voltan said in a low, hard voice. “Attack me!”

  The tall boy yelled incoherently, his voice cracking as he did so, and launched himself forward, summoning power to both fists. Voltan waited calmly, crouched and perfectly balanced. Everand launched two hard force strikes, one from each hand, and leapt at the warrior mage, fists balled to attack him physically, but Voltan deflected both strikes with a flick of each hand and ducked beneath Everand’s flailing fists, tripping the athletic boy with a leg sweep. Everand tumbled head over heels before springing to his feet again, but Voltan was already on him, attacking him with the edges of his flattened hands, each one surrounded in a nimbus of power. Everand grunted and retreated, out-manned and desperate to defend himself. Vol
tan pushed him back another few steps with attack after attack before summoning power into both hands and shoving hard at the boy’s chest. He flew backwards as if kicked by a mule and landed heavily on his rump, sliding backwards in the dust.

  Voltan stepped towards him, fists aglow with power, his face hard as flint. “Yield,” he said, his voice quiet and deadly.

  “I yield,” Everand pleaded, spreading his arms wide and placing himself at Voltan’s mercy.

  “Stand up!” Voltan barked, and he scrambled backwards, clambering awkwardly to his feet, anxious not to take his eyes off the warrior mage. Voltan stepped up close to him, his head tilted so he could look directly into the tall boy’s eyes. “I will not tolerate this kind of thing again,” he said, eyes narrowed to slits. “If I hear of you referring to the elementals as demons, or refusing to spar with Gaspi, there will be hell to pay. Do you understand?”

  “Yes Sir,” Everand said, anger and humiliation warring in his face. Gaspi could tell that all he wanted was to be allowed to leave.

  “Go!” Voltan said, turning his back on the shame-faced boy. Taurnil shot Gaspi a look of utter satisfaction. He looked about as pleased as a person could possibly be! Despite the fact that he’d wanted exactly this kind of justice to be done for a long time, Gaspi couldn’t help feeling conflicted. Yes, Everand was a colossal idiot, but confronting him like that could only ever have one result. He was just too proud to back down in public, and now he’d been humiliated on a grand scale! Gaspi didn’t know how a person like Everand, so obsessed with their own position and reputation, would deal with abject humiliation. Voltan had torn strips off him verbally and physically, and all he could see coming out of it was trouble. He watched Everand walk across the quad with a stiffened back that couldn’t quite hide the defeated droop of his shoulders. If Gaspi compared him to Ferast he had to admit that Everand probably wasn’t a truly bad person. Just a self-obsessed fool with too much pride and a big mouth. He decided to talk to Emmy about it as soon as possible. She would know what to do.

  Voltan called them to spar with him and Jonn, interrupting his thoughts. With a sourness in his belly that wouldn’t go away, he walked back out across the quad.

  …

  He found Emea studying in her bedroom. She put her books away and sat with him on the bed while he told her what had happened. Loreill and Lilly were batting at each other playfully on the pillow.

  “Oh dear,” she said when he’d finished. “He won’t handle that well at all.”

  “I don’t think so either,” he said. “Taurnil thinks he deserves it.”

  “He does,” Emmy said seriously, “but he still won’t handle it well. I think it took every last bit of his courage to apologise to you last year. But this is different. He’s been made a fool of in front of everyone.”

  “Not just a fool,” he said. “He’s been made to look like he’s seriously in the wrong.”

  “Which he is…” Emmy responded.

  “I know,” he said, and neither of them said anything for a while. He stroked the back of her neck absent-mindedly. “So what should I do?” he asked after a few minutes. “Anything?”

  She pulled a face. “I really don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think he’ll be able to face talking to you. Honestly, I think we just have to leave him to deal with it.”

  “Mmm okay,” he said with a sigh. “I just don’t like seeing someone humiliated like that, even if they deserve it.”

  “Even if it’s Everand?” she asked.

  “Guess so,” he answered, and was surprised to discover that he really meant it.

  Emmy sidled closer to him, placed her hands gently on either side of his face and looked him in the eye. “I love you Gaspi,” she said with utter seriousness, and kissed him. The elementals stopped playing and curled up together on the bed.

  “What did I do to deserve that?” he asked when she pulled back, floored by her sudden ardour.

  “I love that you are still concerned about Everand, even after everything he’s done to you.”

  “Anyone would be,” he said with a shrug.

  “No they wouldn’t,” she responded, “but I also love that you think they would. You have a big, wonderful heart Gaspi.”

  She kissed him again, sliding her arms around his neck, making him tingle from head to toe. She had never kissed him quite like that before. He pulled her in close. She stood up and sat back down on his lap, running her fingers over his face as if exploring it for the first time. Gaspi surrendered himself to her completely, letting her love him. Her lips, fingertips and tongue were all telling him with perfect eloquence how much she felt for him, and in that moment he realised that he’d never felt so perfectly loved. Everand was pushed from his thoughts completely, as was the Measure, and even magic itself, as he yielded to her affection, his soul watered by every last drop of her adoration.

  …

  “Do you think that was a good idea?” Hephistole asked.

  “It needed to happen,” Voltan said fiercely, pacing to the window of Hephistole’s study, his hands clasped behind his back.

  “I’m not so sure,” Hephistole said quietly. “He’s just a boy.”

  “An arrogant, dangerous boy who’s spreading lies and prejudice when we need people to stand together.”

  Hephistole sighed. “I understand why you did it. There aren’t any clear answers sometimes, and making an example of Everand may yield some kind of positive result, but my heart tells me there was another way.”

  “Which is?” Voltan asked sharply, spinning round to face the chancellor.

  “Voltan, I don’t mean to criticise you,” Hephistole said, spreading his hands wide. “And I don’t know what the other way is. Let’s speak no more of this. You had good reason for what you did, and besides, what’s done is done. Let’s just make sure we don’t give Everand any reason to think we have abandoned him. Don’t force him and Gaspi to spar, as it might just make things worse. Include him in all pre-tournament talks, act as if nothing happened, and treat him like you treat the others.”

  “I can do that,” Voltan said. He stood for a moment longer and then sat down. “I just don’t have your soft side Hephistole,” he said, his shoulders drooping as if in admission of weakness.

  “You may well have been right,” Hephistole mused. “But I can’t help thinking of what happened with Ferast. He was in our care, and even though he was asking all kinds of worrying questions, I failed to address the issue in time. Several of his mentors refused to teach him, but I wasn’t nearly quick enough to catch onto the severity of the situation, and by the time I tried to reach out to him, he had already left the college. I failed him badly Voltan, and I don’t want to see that happen again with Everand. Who knows what kind of trouble Ferast might get himself into without any guidance?”

  “He was a dark one,” Voltan said.

  “All the more reason to help him,” Hephistole responded. Neither of them spoke for a while.

  “We’ll just watch how this one plays out and be ready to intervene if it’s needed,” Hephistole said.

  “As you say,” Voltan responded.

  …

  Gaspi pushed his desk chair backwards, trying to balance it on two legs while he talked to Rimulth. Loreill had chosen to remove himself from harm’s way, and was napping on the floor in a sunbeam. Pushing the chair back once more, Gaspi caught the tipping point and held it there for a few seconds, wobbling back and forth slightly as he tried to balance with jerky movements of his torso. The chair finally tipped back too far, and despite Gaspi’s out-flung arms, it fell backwards, spilling him onto the floor with a loud crash. Loreill’s head shot up in alarm, but on seeing the cause of the commotion, he rested it back down on his front paws and closed his eyes again. Rimulth, who was sprawled out on the bed, laughed loudly at Gaspi’s expense.

  Just then, a loud, formal knock sounded at the door. Gaspi scrambled to his feet, exchanging a curious look with Rimulth. None of their friends knocked like th
at.

  “Come in,” he called. The handle turned and the door swung open to reveal Everand, standing stiffly in the hallway.

  “Everand?” Gaspi said hesitantly, surprised by the large boy’s presence. Everand was the last person he’d expect to turn up at his room.

  “Can I talk to you?” Everand asked. His tone was wooden, brittle even, and beneath that fragility Gaspi could sense his uncertainty.

  “Er…sure,” Gaspi said, and Everand stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him.

  “Thank you,” Everand said. He took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for something. “I’ve come here to apologise.”

  Gaspi just sat there, his mouth hanging open stupidly.

  “I was wrong to call the elementals demons, and as Rimulth is here too, I’ll apologise to all three of you,” Everand continued. Silence reigned for several moments while Gaspi figured out that he was referring to Loreill, as well as to himself and Rimulth. Rimulth pushed himself up off the bed and stepped up close to Everand.

  “I don’t know how you plainsdwellers do these things, but where I come from, if a man offers you an apology, you are honour bound to accept it. If you had stolen my goods then they would need to be returned of course, and if you had harmed me physically it would be my right to harm you equally in return, but as you have done me no real harm, an apology is enough,” he said, extending a hand to Everand in the manner he’d learned since being in Helioport.