The man let out a groan and hoisted himself up with his forearms. His eyes narrowed down into an annoyed squint, still impacted by the desire to sleep. He smacked his lips together and scratched his head. Some slobber from the sheep eating his hair before slid onto his hand, but he made no mind. Now that his face wasn’t obscured by sheep, Artturi could see that he had the beginning of a beard. Unlike his clothing however, it was not the beard of someone Artturi would consider a refined gentleman. “Mmm? Potato?” the man mumbled. He hoisted himself into an upright position and the potato rolled into his lap. He picked it up and brought it close to his face, examining it like it was a foreign object from beyond the skies. “Yeah. Potato.” Satisfied with his appraisal, the man slowly blinked and began to settle back into his original sleeping position.
Before he could hit the floor though, his eyes shot open again and he scrambled back into his upright sleeping position. “Wait! Wait! What do you want? Money?!” He looked around frantically, his tousled hair whipping around with him. He finally settled on Artturi and the three children. He cupped his chin and sighed. “Oh, kids. Listen, would you accept candy instead? I swear they are of a fine quality.”
Mari let go of Artturi’s sleeve and raised her arm. “Oh, me--” She paused mid-way and lowered her hand. “Buuuuut, how much money do you have? Could I buy more candy with it? That sounds like a better deal.”
“Maybe he’s a fairy!” Grwn exclaimed. “See! He has candy and cool rocks!”
The man looked down on his ring-covered hands and quickly moved them behind his back.
Mari narrowed her eyes and contemplated her friend’s words. “Nah. Fairies are supposed to be really pretty though. No offense, mister!”
“N-none taken, little lady,” he replied.
Artturi walked forward until he was an arm’s length away from the man and plopped himself down into the grass. The man flinched at the sudden change of events and Artturi softly smiled at him. “Don’t worry. We have no intention of robbing you. My friends here are just easily persuaded by candy,” he said, turning around to look specifically at Mari. “You wouldn’t take candy from a person that you have just met, regardless of how friendly they are, right guys?”
Mari looked away. “Yeah. I guess. You don’t know how it tastes afterall. It could be bitter-tasting and that’d be gross.”
Though she didn’t quite get the message, he turned his attention back to the man and asked, “Are you alright, mister? “
The man inspected Artturi, taking the time to ponder his answer. “Yes? I do believe so. T-thank you, dear boy.”
“Can I ask what were you doing here? It’s just that, it’s a little concerning to see a man with such expensive clothing sleeping in the middle of a field. Are you with some merchants?”
“Huh? Oh, I’m just a traveler. I enjoy visiting pastoral locals and writing down what I see and feel. The sun was just so warm, and the grass, so soft-- You must understand the appeal, no? Before I knew it. I was lulled to sleep by the sound of the wind and the bleating of sheeps.” The man closed his eyes with content. “You truly live in a paradise.”
Artturi released the tension in his hand after listening to his answer. He sounded harmless. Perhaps he was a free-spirited noble who had decided to leave his luxurious way of life for the first time, and was a little innocent in his new surroundings. It would definitely explain the beard, but, if he was a traveler…
“Sir! Where are your bags?” Artturi asked, worried. Never had the four of them spotted anything like a backpack. The man only sported a small pouch at his side, and Artturi could spy a pencil peeking from it. No doubt, it contained the notes he had collected, but what about everything else? If he was a traveler, where would he keep his sleepwear and food and… whatever else wealthy people carried. His clothes did not look weary, so he must have had another pair. Unless… Artturi felt a tinge of pity at realizing that this kind man must have been robbed of his possessions while asleep and was still too tired to realize.
“My bags?” The man repeated. He shook his head and laughed. “I don’t have any bags.”
So it was true. The poor man laughed at his recent misfortune. Before Artturi could extend his help, the man interrupted him.
“I have no need for bags. All I need is this pouch,” he said, patting the pouch at his side.
He didn’t know what to think any more. Suffice to say, the tables had turned, and now it was Artturi who was left more lost and confused than ever. Appearances were deceiving, but something just didn’t add up. Artturi’s hand tensed up again, ready to use his water focus in case the man had bad intentions. Maybe he was some sort of trickster fay all along.
The man unbuckled the pouch and pulled out a crude pencil and a worn notebook. It’s leather cover was ripped along the edges and spills of tea or wine created an interesting gradient across the leather. In the middle was a faint stamped insignia of a dragon surrounded by circles. Even though the book was not opened, Artturi could see elegant penmanship on pages peeking out that had detached from the spine and were haphazardly shoved back in.
“Is it a magic book?”
Artturi hadn’t noticed that Mari, Elain, and Grwn had crawled behind him and were peering from over his shoulder. Mari, as expected, was the one who had spoken. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and the possibility of being told another tale on magic.
The man shook his head. “Oh, no no. It is a normal notebook. I apologize for disappointing you,” he said to Mari. “See?” He flipped open the cover and leafed through the pages. Each page was filled with tightly compacted writing, dates, and the occasional doodle. Artturi recognized the names of some of the places he had written down as the pages were flipped through. Only half the book was filled, yet he still leafed through the blank pages. A flattened flower or leaf made an appearance here and there, but that was it. The notebook was not thin by any means, but despite it’s worn look, it did not look as used as one would expect of a traveler.
As the man flipped to the last page, Mari pushed against Artturi’s shoulder and pointed at the book with her other hand. “See! It’s magic!”
On this final page was a circle surrounded by many little circles, similar to the one found on the cover. However, instead of a dragon in the middle, this circle was filled with many mini stars orientated into no distinguishable pattern and of various sizes. Strange symbols were written down in the circles surrounding it, which certainly did give it a magical feel. Outside of the larger circle were neatly written numbers with arrows pointing to the smaller circles.
“A diagram?” Artturi asked. “Did you see this night sky on your travels, mister?”
“That’s my bag,” he said, tapping at the page with the unsharpened side of the pencil. “And it’s not the book itself that is magic. Really, the book is absolutely normal. Observe.” Twirling his pencil around, he hovered over the stars. He set his pencil down on one of the smallest stars at the bottom of the page. Then, he began to shade it in. The five of them stared at the page after he had set the pencil down.
At first, there was nothing. But then the page began to turn. Anyone could blame the wind on that, but they couldn’t blame the wind for how it slammed back down right afterwards. The paper buckled and twisted. It bubbled and grew. The little shaded star increased in size as the paper blew up into a balloon. The page got bigger and bigger. Then, the shaded star bubble began to crinkle and fold. It was like the work of an unseen spirit. Before long, the folds took the image of a recognizable shape, and the balloon of paper separated from the rest of the page. Yet, it did not leave a hole in its wake. It was like a droplet of water falling from a leaf. The page settled nicely down, as if it was never disturbed. The only thing missing was the star that the man had shaded in. Meanwhile, the chunk of the page, now folded and crinkled, that had broken off floated gently down on top of the original page. Once it rested on its mother page, the paper began to change color and the texture changed into something that was waxy and colorful.
“Oh my stars! Magic candy!”
“I swear! The candy is perfectly normal!” The man cried. Lo and behold, three pieces of colorfully wrapped chocolates were there. A rather cute bear was printed on the edges on the wrapper where it was twisted to make the candy look like a bowtie. “It’s my focus.”
“Your focus?” Artturi asked. He struggled to take his eyes off of the entrancing page to look at the man. “I’ve never heard of a focus for storing objects. Then again, I have never seen anything like this.”
“Woah! You have a candy focus?” Mari crawled over to the paper and began to eye the wrapped chocolates. “I want a candy focus.”
“Me too!”
“I’d like one too, please.”
The man rapidly moved his hands in an ‘x’. “No no, children. It’s still an elemental focus. I focus on wood. You see?” He gently moved the blank sheet of paper next to the circle diagram. “Paper comes from trees, so I can manipulate it.”
“So,” Mari began. “It’s not a magic book or a candy focus?”
“Heavens, no! The council would have my head if I owned a magic text in this condition.” He picked up the candy and held it out to them. “I understand if you choose not to take one, but I promise that I harbor no ill intentions. Uh… and I’m sorry for only having three.” He gazed sheepishly at Artturi.
“No worries,” Artturi said. Mari eagerly grabbed them all and reluctantly distributed them to Elain and Grwn. “Still, I don’t understand. I know that foci can manipulate the elements, but how did it-- how did you--?”
The man smiled. “Your confusion is understandable. Most people with a wood focus would hardly be able to fold a piece of paper with just the basics, since it is at its manufactured form, much less store items. It takes many years of study, but one may find it possible to combine fay magic with elemental foci to create unlimited possibilities. The chocolates were always in the paper, but were transformed using a kind of storage spell that is only accessed once the page is disturbed with ink or charcoal. Each of these stars,” He pointed at the numerous stars on the page with his pencil. “Holds an object that I have stored in the paper. Some are small, like candy, while others are big, like a bed. Of course, manipulating the page to that extent does take a lot of stamina, but it takes much less than manipulating a tree into a makeshift bed.”
It was a lot for Artturi to wrap his mind around. In no less than an hour, everything that he had thought he knew about the capabilities of foci vanished. One question raced through his mind: Who was this man?
“Thank you for the chocolate, mister,” Elain interrupted. “They were really good.” Having been tempted by sugar, she shuffled closer next to Mari.
“My pleasure. Thank you for not, uh, robbing me,” the man said. “They are from Harth Chocolatiers. I always grab a few whenever I pass by.”
“Um.” Elain looked down and fidgeted with her dress. “Could I learn to do that?”
“Of course!” Elain sat upright at his exclamation, her eyes wide and bright. “It’s a slow and arduous process, but the most important thing you could do now is to increase your stamina. You can always accomplish this by training your body, but that will only take you so far. Most importantly, you have to train your mind and your spirit. You must be able to connect with the stars and magic around very closely, and memorize monthly, daily, and hourly patterns. However.” His tone shifted and his voice dropped. “Many things can go wrong. That’s why it is important that you have a teacher who can guide you down the right path. Studying just books is not enough. You have to be aware of the dangers present anytime you play with foci and magic; especially fay magic.”
By the end of his explanation, Elain still looked hopeful, but that hope wavered. Artturi knew why. Until the age of eighteen, all children had access to education, but since most peasant children did not have the time nor talent to develop a focus, such topics were mostly ignored. For someone like Artturi who had just finished his last year of school, his only options to further his education would be to become a scholar or go to a trade school. Going to a school for the advancement of foci, of which there were few, was for the extremely wealthy or nobles. For someone like Elain who came from a family of farmers with only a moderate level of success, obtaining enough money to gain access to these teachers would remain a dream. It pained him to think about it. Elain had always been fascinated with foci. In fact, she had become friends with Mari because she had sat by her mother’s side for hours, watching her use her own focus. Mrs. Cadogan, though happy with the company, was worried that Elain would lose something by not being with other children her age instead and optimistically hoped that perhaps the sweet and well-mannered girl could be a good influence for Mari.
“Oh, stamina? Yeah, our big brother Turi has a water focus.” Mari patted Artturi’s shoulder like he was a prized sheep going at an auction. “And he never gets tired.”
The man turned to Artturi. “A water focus? I’ve seen that that is quite common around farmlands. Chrossili is fortunate to have you. I must say, one of the reasons that I came here was to try the apples you are all so famous for.”
“But, like, my mom has a water focus too, but it’s nothing like Artturi’s. Show him!” Mari beamed.
“Mari!” Artturi’s face began to grow hot at being forced into the center of attention. He shouldn’t be embarrassed, but showing his ability to such a talented foci user-- no, mage, felt like an insult to the study. He sighed. “Sorry, she’s exaggerating a bit. Here it is though.” Artturi stretched out his right arm.
“Don’t trouble yourself. I know how valuable water is and--”
A perfect and large sphere or water materialized in the palm of Artturi’s hand.
“Skies above!” The man froze and brought his hands to his face. Artturi flinched, but the water remained unperturbed. “Where were you trained?”
“Uh, the matriarch of Chrossili told me about foci when I was younger and I just… did… it.” Artturi looked at the three kids next to him for a sign that what he was doing was strange.
“You just did it?” The man was transfixed on him. His eyes darkened with concern. “Is it hereditary? I know that some may find it easier to control foci that way. No. That’s not the main concern here.”
“S-sir? Is something wrong?”
The man scratched his beard. “With you? No. No, nothing is wrong. I’ve never seen an untrained water focus user conjure up so much and have it all contained in a perfect sphere so quickly. And you don’t seem the least bit affected,” he said, ignoring the scared expression on his face. “It’s a rare talent that I’ve heard about, but only from the noble families who have had generations of skilled foci users in their family tree. Even rarer though-- Have you ever drank this water? Splashed it on an injury?”
He definitely had. The water had a sweet taste to it and could instantly make anyone refreshed. At first, it felt strange to drink magical water, but if the crops were watered with it, it’d eventually go into their bodies anyway, so he saw no harm in it. As for wounds…
“Yes. Sometimes, the kids get cuts. Mari and Grwn don’t usually want me to splash some water on them because they are their “battle scars”, but with Elain, they usually fade away shortly after.” Artturi cocked his head to the side. “But water is healing, right?”
With a hand covering his mouth, the man shook his head. “That saying is to be taken lightly in reference to how water can help grow crops; not instantly heal wounds. There is only one other person that I’ve met who can heal with water.”
Artturi’s head became light. What did he mean that only one other person could do this? It made perfect sense to him that water would be able to heal. But did he ever see anyone else heal a wound with a water focus? Admittedly, no, but--
“That’s spirit water. It’s water blessed by the fay and has the potential to turn back time on any wounds or sickness if used to its full potential. How is it that you can conjure it?”
Spirit water. He had never heard of a thing, but the man did not seem to be one to joke around. More than that, he seemed like the best judge of it. But if that was true, then why him? Could this be a connection to his absent parents? A blessing or a curse? What if he was a changeling? The sudden realization of just how much power he had caused the sphere of water in his hand to break and splash on his hand. “It’s just normal water.”
The man shook his head slowly. “This notebook is normal. Those candies were normal. This? This is special.” He motioned toward Artturi. “My boy, are you okay?”
Artturi had his hand cooled by water on his forehead, and tried his best to remain sitting up. “Yeah. It’s a lot to take in.” He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes, and exhaled slowly. He took his hand off his forehead and forced a smile. “But I’m fine, mister. It doesn’t sound like a bad thing. In fact, I should consider myself fortunate.”
The man blinked, dumb-struck. “Ah, yes. I apologize for how I delivered this revelation to you. Forgive me. However, I do believe that your life is going to be changed even more because you and I know about this.”
Mari gasped and dove in front of Artturi. “No! I won’t let you do experiments on him! His brain is staying in his head.”
“Nonono! I would never! Just the thought of it is horrendous!” The man rushed to reassure Mari. “Doing that would not help anyone in the long run. This is a gift to be nurtured and developed, if,” He closed his notebook and faced Artturi. “If you allow it to be.”
“What are you saying?” Artturi had begun to grow a faint profile of who this man was with the way he enthusiastically explained his focus and the notebook, but surely he wouldn’t. Would he?
With a groan, the man heaved himself up to his feet. “I don’t believe I did ever introduce myself. My name is Llewellyn Glines.” He outstretched his hand to help Artturi up.
He held his hand and hoisted himself up too. “I’m Artturi.”
“Artturi.” Llewellyn mumbled the name a couple of times. “This will be a name not easily forgotten.” He cleared his throat and stood up straight. “I’d like to present a proposal to you. The truth is that I am a traveler only as a hobby, and it is a hobby that I am unfortunately not proficient in. I am more well known as a professor in Foci Combinations and a head member of the council at a prestigious school for foci users. Based on your decision, it is within my power and would be my undenying pleasure to invite you to study at Wybren Academy.”
