by Kelly Napoli
***
The memory faded away as the present time and place came into focus.
“Kiethara?” Aaron asked, wary.
“Sorry,” she mumbled and threw herself into the lake, embarrassed. The memory had brought silly, ridiculous tears.
Aaron, in some strange way of his, was already by the stone, waiting for her to swim over. His movements reminded her of the way Gandador and Sinsenta were always disappearing and reappearing. How nice would it be if Aaron would teach her that?
“Read to me what the element of fire says,” Aaron instructed as soon as she got there. She did as she was told.
FIRE
THE ELEMENT OF LIGHT AND HEAT. THIS ELEMENT IS MOSTLY CONTROLED BY ANGER. TO CONTROL THIS ELEMENT YOU MUST CONTROL YOUR ANGER.
“What does it mean?” he asked.
It took Kiethara a moment to piece together her answer. Each simple statement in the paragraph had many details behind it, making it hard to find a straight answer.
“The element of fire is very fierce and very strong. There has to be a lot of controlled power behind it.” Her answer sounded more like a question than an actual answer.
“Very good, Kiethara. The element of fire does need a lot of clout behind it, including strong, but controlled, anger. The anger you felt was very fierce, but very wild. The only thing that stopped you from burning Sinsenta to death or burning down the forest was your shock and surprise.”
His reply made her shudder. They stood there for a minute in silence.
“Would it have been better if I had killed him?” Kiethara whispered, looking down. Aaron was silent for a minute.
“I’m not denying that it would have saved you a lot of trouble in the future, but I would never ask that of you, Kiethara,” he told her gently. She still didn’t look up, afraid her expression would give too much away.
In the end, that would be what she had to do. Of course she would have to kill Gandador if the opportunity presented itself; not only that, she would also have to be fighting her hardest to make that opportunity a possibility. She didn’t have another option. Once the world was rid of him, there would be no fear of threat, or pain. Didn’t she want that? Didn’t she need that? She was the only one who had any chance of accomplishing such a feat…
So why was she recoiling at the realization?
“Come, Kiethara,” Aaron said, beckoning her to the surface with a nod. She followed a little slowly.
“It’s time to begin practicing the element,” he said as soon as she had pulled herself to dry land.
“What about invisibility?” she asked. They hadn’t been getting anywhere with that, but she wasn’t about to give up.
“I think that might be a little advanced for you, a little beyond your level.”
“I did it before!” Kiethara replied defensively.
“Yes,” he said calmly. “But fire will be easier and, in any case, more essential to your fighting.”
“Fine,” Kiethara mumbled.
“Now, I believe you are practiced in recreating emotion. Use the memory of your fight to summon what you need.”
With a suppressed sigh, Kiethara closed her eyes and brought forth the required memory. Sinsenta’s face swam into view, with his blue eye and his brown eye staring down at her with sick pleasure as he held her down. She remembered the trapped feeling she had had, the piercing words he had spoken to ignite her fury. She let the recollection grow, let the fire of rage devour her from the inside out. It consumed her until her teeth were gritted together and her hands were balled into fists.
Then, what felt like a small blast blew her hair back and warmed her skin. She gave a yelp of surprise and opened her eyes.
Flames were dancing on her outstretched arms. She could feel the heat and see the orange tongues licking at her hands, but she couldn’t feel anything. It was unnerving to watch.
“I did it!” she squealed. But as soon as her pleasure overcame her anger, the fire vanished as fast as it had come. Aaron chuckled.
“Well done,” Aaron commended her. He was right—the element of fire was easier than invisibility, by far. Kiethara beamed.
“Suppress your delight, Kiethara, I want you to do this again,” he ordered, annoying her slightly with his harsh tone.
Yet, as she continued with her practices, that annoyance was actually very supportive. It allowed her to repeat it again and again, over and over.
Over and over and over again…
After hours of practice Kiethara finally plopped into the grass, exhausted but satisfied in what she had accomplished. Aaron had helped and, now that she thought about it, he probably did it on purpose. All through the training he had remarked on what she was doing erroneous, making snide comments…something that frustrated her to no end. But they had kept her other emotions—happiness, despair—at bay.
“You did amazing,” he finally complimented her as she laid face down in the grass, closing her eyes against the world. After a minute, Kiethara turned her head to ask him a question.
“How can Sinsenta fly?” she asked.
“Sinsenta is very talented at magic. He comes in second next to Gandador, from what I have seen. When you’re that skilled at magic…” he trailed off.
“Then what’s the point of being a guardian if everyone can be as strong as I can?” she demanded.
“There are many, many points. You do have powers no one else can possess, just because of the sheer amount of power they take. For example, Gandador, or anyone else for that matter, cannot turn invisible,” Aaron explained.
“He can’t? Why?”
“I told you, it requires an amount of magic that he cannot possess for a very long time. The major difference between a guardian and someone like Gandador is the fact that you have an endless stream of power coming to you from the forest, when he does not.”
“I don’t have an endless amount,” she said blankly. “I ran out trying to put the fire out.”
“You did not necessarily ‘run out,’ and in time…you will have an endless amount.”
“I will?” she asked, eyes widening.
“All in good time, Kiethara,” Aaron said offhandedly.
“I still don’t understand,” she huffed. “Anyone can feel any emotion, so they should all be able to use the same powers…”
“I believe, in some cases, the crucial emotions must be accompanied with the right motive,” he said quietly.
“I have to have the right…motive?”
“It’s a lesson your great-grandmother had to learn, and—”
“What?!” Kiethara interrupted with a screech, lifting her head up so fast her neck cracked.
“I suppose I haven’t told you much about your ancestors,” Aaron mused.
“Suppose?!” she asked incredulously.
“Calm down and I’ll tell you the story,” Aaron compromised. Kiethara pulled herself upright and sat, legs crossed, her attention intent of Aaron.
“Your great-grandmother’s name was Pracilzee,” he began. “Her time of being a guardian was rather...normal, if you will, peaceful, but not without adversaries. Some did step up against her, but none were nearly as powerful as Gandador. Honestly, I haven’t seen anything like him before. It seems like you got the short end of the stick.”
“Har har,” she mumbled. “But I thought you only just awoke when I was little? How do you know this happened?”
“That’s a question that will fully be answered later in your life, Kiethara,” he said, infuriating her with more of his riddles. “But I can explain this much: you awoke me so I could act. Before that, though, I could see. I could watch everything that was going on in my forest, but not act upon it.
“Anyway, Pracilzee was a few years older than you before corruption began to take hold.”
“Corruption?” she asked.
“In a way. Her motives changed, Kiethara,” Aaron said softly. “Instead of wanting to protect the forest, she only desired the sheer power that came with bei
ng a guardian. It wasn’t long before she began to neglect the duties associated with the position.”
Kiethara gasped. She hadn’t even considered that, or known it were possible.
“Her father, the previous guardian, tried his hardest to reason some sense into her. It was to no avail, however, and his attempts even led to his death.”
“His death?” she whispered, frightened.
“Pracilzee was eventually filled with so much contempt for the responsibilities of the forest and her father that she killed him. A first, for the forest.”
Kiethara stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. Had one of her ancestors really been that brutal? The guardians were supposed to be whole, good; Kiethara always pictured them as the models for the perfect being—people who were filled with nothing but righteousness.
“That’s a little dramatic,” Kiethara finally pointed out in a weak voice.
“Yes, but Pracilzee loved the magic she possessed more than anything else. She did not want anyone else with that same power anywhere near her, nor did she want them instructing her on how to use it. She used her power for the wrong motives, Kiethara. She used them to gain more power, instead of to protect the greatest power in the world.”
She nodded.
“She gained nothing from it. Remember that, Kiethara. It is a vital lesson, a vital reason.”
The last word of his sentence reminded her of her own moral. Everything happened for a reason.
“Promise me you will remember that,” Aaron ordered.
“Come on, when have I ever let you down?” she asked with a small smile.
“Never.”