“Okay.” He dropped the sword back into its scabbard. “But you’re making a mistake. Rapnagar, well all of the Grenmorians really, is monstrous. Grygor being the one exception. If the situation were reversed, Rapnagar would be burping you up right now.”
“Suri.” Arion waved the mystic over. “Remember how I discussed teaching you? Well, today you’re going to begin your first practical lesson in the Art. You’re going to free this giant.”
Suri had never done anything more than start fires and cast bones, and freeing the giant was as unlikely as restoring the trees or bringing Magda back to life. If such things were possible, she certainly wouldn’t put any energy into helping Rapnagar.
As a rule, Suri didn’t dislike anyone, but she would make an exception for him. He had destroyed the rol—one of her favorites—and was, by his own admission, in league with those who’d murdered Magda and Suri’s other friends, like the beautiful young maple. Suri had only recently become acquainted with the sapling who was now lying in a pile of debris, snapped in half three feet up from her roots. Suri had been surprised Wogan hadn’t killed the giant during the night. She imagined rodents gnawing out the giant’s eyes and burrowing into his head. While Suri wasn’t overly fond of Nyphron, she sided with him about how to deal with the giant.
“This might take a little while,” Arion told the Instarya. “I don’t want to rush her. So you can go back if you like.”
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving,” he said, moving to sit on the body of a freshly fallen birch. Suri didn’t know the birch, but he looked like he’d been nice. “I’d love to see how one teaches magic, this Art of yours.”
Arion shrugged. “Suri, we in the Miralyith call the ability to use the power of the world the Art, because it’s such a creative process. While there are basic foundations, principles, and techniques, just as you would find in any artistic endeavor, these are only guides. They are mostly designed to assist students to grasp ideas, to get them started. But I think you’ll find there are no genuine rules except those you set for yourself. Some of these will be choices you make; others will be made for you, simply because of who you are.”
Suri assumed Arion was speaking to her, and she heard all the words clearly but still struggled with their meaning. Over the last month, the bald Fhrey Miralyith had improved Suri’s understanding of the Fhrey language, but she still had to guess at a few of the words, and Arion was talking fast.
“Thing is,” Arion went on, “everyone is capable of using the Art, in the same way that everyone can draw, but not all drawing is considered art. In this same way, people use the power of nature all the time. Speech, for example, is a form of mundane magic. A base branch of summoning, in fact. The natural powers of sound, pitch, and tone can ‘magically’ transfer ideas from one person to another. Smiling and causing another to smile back is another form of the same idea. Do you understand?”
Suri shook her head.
“Creating fire—the way you already know how to do—is yet another form of basic magic. Nyphron can also create a fire. To do so he’ll harness the power of friction to summon heat. A more advanced wielder of nature’s powers might use metal and stone to generate sparks, an easier and faster method. And to the person who uses friction, it can be seen as magical, but magic is merely another word for ‘I don’t know how you did that.’ You, of course, know an even better way to start a fire.”
Suri smiled, having understood this last part. She had seen Tura start fires using both methods, but the old mystic never started one the way Suri did.
“Your method, Suri, is even more elegant, easier, and faster. And to you that’s all it is, another way of making a fire. But to Nyphron, with his lack of understanding, it’s magic.” She turned to the Galantian. “I apologize for using you as an example, but you chose to stay.”
“Not a problem,” he replied. “I enjoy seeing how you instill a sense of superiority in your student along with the lesson. I can see how it happens.”
“How what happens?”
“How you’ve come to see yourselves as gods.”
Arion paused, and a shadow of self-doubt crossed her face.
“I’ll do the same thing when I teach the Rhunes to fight. Confidence is important, particularly in a war.”
Arion hesitated a moment longer, then turned back to Suri. “So where was I? Oh, yes, there’s a divide between those who trace or copy a picture that someone else drew and people who can create a drawing out of their own imagination. The people who have a natural talent, something they are born with or develop at a young age, are Artists. But there are others who can only use magic by relying on physical constructs such as wood, water, minerals, and metal. Those who must rely on the crutches of physical items are known as faquins or stylists. You, Suri, are a true Artist.”
Suri smiled again, certain that was a compliment. She liked Arion. The Miralyith wasn’t just beautiful; she was fascinating, too. The Fhrey was like an elegant version of Tura, kindly, understanding, and wise. They both dripped with knowledge like an overloaded sponge. No one could be around either and not learn something.
“You improve as an Artist by understanding the basics of how elements interact and how to affect them,” Arion explained. “This is similar to learning to communicate. You learn to speak by discovering which sounds mean what. A lot of magic is based on sound. Sound and motion can create weavings and bindings like knots, similar to the string game you play. They fasten aspects of natural power into patterns that can be used by the Artist. Knowing the language of the world and how to speak in usable patterns allows an Artist to effect change.
“Everything in the world is connected to everything else. Understanding the paths allows you to make new connections. To do this, an Artist needs to be in contact with a source of power. In terms of the string game, this would be your fingers. In the real world, power comes from life, heat, and movement. So you can use sunlight, fire, the flow of water, or life itself. Seeds are a good source; the potential they hold is extremely powerful and you can carry many with you, which makes them convenient as well. Of course, here in this forest, you have an abundance of power to tap. Now, there are several categories of source power. Elemental, which is most common and is the manipulation of elements: Rubbing wood makes fire, adding heat to water makes steam. There are subcategories of this such as weather art, water, fire, and such. There’s also Life and Vision art, but there’s no sense going into those yet. Today we’re going to begin with dirt.”
“Dirt?” Suri asked.
“Yes, dirt. It may seem inert, but like seeds, it holds the power of life. The soil has provided strength and nourishment to these massive trees, and it will provide the power to free Rapnagar. Now, you should already know how to tap. You do it every time you start a fire. It’s that sensation, the drawing in of elemental strength that is akin to taking a deep breath, the summoning you do just before you clap. I want you to do that now. Close your eyes. That’ll make it easier to concentrate. Listen to the wind; feel the ground beneath your feet. Reach out with your senses and explore. Try to feel the dirt around Rapnagar. Imagine the ground being an extension of yourself. It is. Everything in the world is part of everything else. We are all related in that we affect one another. You just need to pull on the right thread and manipulate the string pattern so that the dirt moves away from Rapnagar.”