It burned. Her whole arm was prickling and burning and stinging.
Of course it had been magic. Gouda was careful with his potions and tinctures. Well, for the most part, at least, the droplet sized hole in the floor next to his work table begged to differ. But with his magic... Not that it was his fault, wild magic was hard to control, it came from nowhere, or from somewhere undefined or whatever and, well, it was wild, and it manifested however it wanted to, and sometimes, sometimes you lost control. At least that, or something along those lines, was what she had heard Gouda’s and Cheddar’s parents explain to them once after the former had grown a beard of feathers. (That incident had also caused Tis to realize she had a feather allergy. Beautiful. At least that got her out of cleaning and preparing chickens for cooking.)
So it had not been a bottle of fire stuff, it had not been the acid he secretly worked with even though his parents had forbidden him to do so, said he was too young. It had been a burst of magic, a burst of flame and electricity surging from him and up her arm, causing her to scream before she could clutch her unharmed hand over her mouth and bite down on her finger. Gouda looked at her, horrified.
They had not been fighting. No arguing, no heated discussion. The burst of emotion that had caused this pain… had been laughter. A joke, something stupid, and now it hurt like all hell. When the immediate agony subsided, she saw that Gouda was already scrambling to get a salve, probably something his brother had mixed while training with the village’s healer. She wasn’t going to complain about a little relief so she sat down, wordlessly, and let him lather that stuff on her arm in a generous fashin. It was cool to the touch, which made her sigh with relief, even though the thought of what her arm must look like made her skin crawl. Was she bleeding? Had Gouda washed his hands? Stupid thoughts. She forced herself to glance at her arm as her friend smeared the healing salve all over it, muttering “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry”. Looking at it, luckily, it didn’t seem that bad, but her arm would probably be red for a while.
“It’s okay.”
“I’ll take you to the healer or to Cheddar or, should we get my parents?”, her friend babbled and Tis realized his magic had probably never done anything harmful before.
“No”, she said firmly, which made him look up.
“No”, she repeated, more softly now: “We’re not going to the healer or anywhere, we won’t tell anyone about this.”
“We won’t?”
“We won’t.”
There was a glaring contest, a battle of wills, for a second only, before Gouda looked away, as if afraid more magic would shoot from his eyes if he glared at her too intently.
“I don’t want Ma and Pa to think you’re too dangerous to hang out with. You’re my best friend, I don’t need the drama”, she explained.
“But maybe I am too dan-“
Tis knocked him over the head before he could finish. Not… like… not hard, that boy was brittle and she had more strength than she knew what to do with most days. It did shut that self-doubting talk right up, though.
“I bet I’m more dangerous than you!”, she exclaimed, at which he raised an eyebrow.
“I just burned your arm. I’m clearly more dangerous”, he mumbled.
“I can wield an axe!”
“You almost hit your foot yesterday!”
“See? Dangerous!!”
“But I can shoot fire!”
“You grow feathers, there’s nothing less intimidating!”
“That was ONE time!”
Without warning, they both burst out laughing. Gouda flinched when he realized that, but no burst of magic happened and Tis just kept laughing, not afraid of him, or anything, When he joined back in again, she felt relieved.
She would have to tell her parents she fell down while playing in the woods and accidentally sled down a hill, braking with the length of her arm. That should look about the same way. She couldn’t have them telling her to not spend time with Gouda anymore. And they would, if they thought he was uncontrollable, a danger to her, wild. All the things they said about Heidi. She could do that, she could stay away from Heidi, or at least not get too close. But she needed this, needed him. One close friend was enough, but she needed that to be Gouda.
When they calmed down, sitting on the floor, sharing their bread and cheese – of course there was cheese – like nothing had happened, Gouda asked her: “If your parents did tell you to not hang out with me anymore, would you listen?”
Tis looked at her feet for a moment, hesitating, before shaking her head: “Nah. But it’s much easier if I don’t have to sneak around too much. I’m not exactly stealthy, ya know?”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
That earned him a handful of cheese in his face, and her, it earned happy laughter from her best friend. It made her skin not hurt anymore.
