Age of Swords (The Legends of the First Empire #2)

“Then how can I—”

Arion held up a hand. “Who taught you all those string patterns?”

Suri thought. Tura first showed her the game, but she only demonstrated how to make the cradle and then the diamond weave. She shrugged. “I figured them out myself.”

“Exactly. The Art is just like that. I could show you three different ways to turn this pool into ice, and left to yourself you might come up with a fourth—one better suited to you. For example, consider the fire you just made. It’s a very simple pattern, right? Draw in heat, focus it, release. But it wasn’t that easy, was it?”

Suri shook her head. “Didn’t have wood, or oil, nothing to ignite.”

“Exactly. Sources I’m sure you always had in the past. So how did you do it?”

“The water.” She pointed across the pool. “The falling water. The movement had power.”

“And so you altered the weave to draw from that source. That’s the creative part. That’s adapting a method, and you didn’t need me to explain how to vary the weave. But that’s not all you did, was it? Have you ever dried water from soaked clothing in an instant?”

“No,” Suri admitted.

“And I didn’t teach you that, did I? So what did you do?”

“I was thinking of Rapnagar, when I could feel the dirt around him. I did the same thing with water: I saw it on the clothing and the strands of hair, and I pulled it out, separated it from everything it touched.”

“An excellent approach. And now you know you can develop new weaves all on your own. Learning that lesson…learning to learn…to teach yourself…that’s part of what it takes to be an Artist. It’s the most important part. Some never learn that. They can only repeat what they’ve been taught, but that’s not true art. Art is creating, and I’ve seen you do that.”

Arion paused then, and a small smile crossed her lips. “But you did something more, and you’re probably not even aware that you did. Something that shows me you have great capacity. Do you know what it is?”

Suri thought, but she didn’t see what Arion was referring to. Removing the water was new, but Arion had already mentioned that, and what help would drying out Balgargarath be if they came upon him? If Suri had done something else, she didn’t know what. Stumped, she shook her head.

“When you removed the water, what did the fire do?”

“Do? It didn’t do anything.”

“Exactly. You managed two weaves simultaneously, and so easily you didn’t even notice. You’re doing it now—having this conversation with me while the fire still burns. You don’t have to concentrate, aren’t struggling to do both at the same time. I know how hard that is. Among my kind, I’m sort of famous for performing multiple weaves at once. It’s why Fenelyus dubbed me Cenzlyor, which means ‘swift of mind.’ I’ve trained students for years, but some just can’t do it. Yet you juggle weaves instinctively. It’s really quite amazing.”

Suri didn’t think it was amazing. Like Arion said, it didn’t take any concentration. Still, she was happy Arion was pleased.

“Is there anything you can teach me that I can use in this fight?”

Arion nodded. “I just did. I pointed out the abilities you already possess, and demonstrated how you figured out the answers by yourself. Yes, there are some basic formulas and some extremely powerful and complex weaves that have been worked out and handed down. I’ve taught those for centuries, and for lesser Miralyith it takes years, sometimes decades, to learn those lessons. But honestly, Suri, that’s the hardest way to learn about the Art. The easier way is to find the path within you. Then you can do anything; you can teach yourself. I can act as a guide by pointing you in the directions that worked for me, but you must take your own journey because no two Artists ever tread the same path. Artists create. That’s what it means to be an Artist, and part of that is creating your own way.”

Suri wasn’t at all happy with that answer. If they came upon Balgargarath, she wanted to know more than just two simple tricks, and the best her mentor could offer was, Do your best. Maybe it was true, but it didn’t instill confidence.

“You sure?” Suri asked in Rhunic.

Arion returned a sad but hopeful smile. “Pretty sure.” Then she added, “What you need more than anything is confidence. The more you do, the better you’ll get, and the more self-assurance you’ll obtain. With my experience, I can help you avoid pitfalls and dead ends. That will speed up your advancement, but you have to do the work. My best advice is to remember the focusing chant. That will help. It will settle your mind, make it easier to think, center your thoughts, and allow you to find the chords.”

“But how do I know which ones to touch?”

“How did you learn to hold your breath underwater? Did you need to be taught that?”

Suri didn’t have an answer. She’d never thought about it before.

“Mastery comes with time and practice,” Arion said.

“I don’t have either of those.”

“It’ll be all right. You’re just afraid. That’s your biggest problem. You’ve touched the chords, know what they feel like. You understand the immense power residing there, and you’ve seen what that power can do. You’re afraid that by using the Art you’ll hurt someone you love. It’s that fear that’s holding you back, and it’s that fear you must face and overcome to gain your wings. Then you won’t simply fly, you’ll soar.”

Arion held out her hands to calm Suri. “I can help you. While the others rest, we’ll explore the chords together. I suspect you know more about each than you realize. In Estramnadon, Fhrey come to be tested for Artistic aptitude. Then they enter a college of study where they learn to wake and develop their previously inert connection to the powers of the world.” Arion took Suri’s hands in hers. “I’ve watched you. Suri, you’re a natural Artist. With no effort, you’re better than I was after years of training. You made fire without thinking. You were born more in tune with the natural world than I could hope to achieve if I lived another two thousand years. You’re a natural conduit. You merely need to take charge of that part of yourself. Suri, you really are a caterpillar trapped in a chrysalis on the verge of becoming a butterfly. Fear is your only true obstacle, and there’s one other thing I want to teach you before Rain starts digging.”

“What’s that?”

“How to tap the life force of those around you. Here, you had the flowing water to use as a source, but that’s not always the case. At our first resting spot, there wasn’t any, except for each of us. You were afraid then. Frightened that you would pull too much and hurt someone. We’ll practice that now as well. Just in case it’s needed. Once you find that you can do so without hurting others, you’ll lose that fear.”