A Gift Unto the King

The Pendulum Swings

A gentle breeze shuffled through the trees as the sun rapidly approached the golden hour. The journey had been long and tiresome, but thankfully, uneventful. Save, at least, for a small mishap with an unassuming little pebble that somehow landed Angelique with a terribly painful sprained ankle. Alistair had done his best to heal it, but the most he'd been able to manage was to lessen the pain—he'd thus made a mental note to practice that spell more later.

Angelique rocked back and forth, her wavy, red hair bobbing, as the mule traversed the uneven ground. Alistair tightly clung to the reins, guiding the large animal over the rocks. A short distance away, emerged the faint babbling of a modest brook, and just beyond, a path widened, leading deeper into the forest.

Upon reaching the water's edge, Alistair stopped the mule, and grabbed their nearly empty canteens from their saddle bag. Removing the caps, he knelt down, allowing the crystal clear water to flow into them. Once filled, he pushed himself up from the ground, brushed the dirt from his knees, and handed the canteens to his sister.

"Purify the water, please." He directed her, and she did as she was told.

With a moment's concentration, and a wave of her hand, the water slowly rose out of the containers, suspended freely in front of her. She closed her eyes, and drew her hand to her lips. Softly, she hummed, the vibrations trembling against her delicately closed hand. Then, she raised her pinky and ring finger, forming a widening tunnel through her curled fingers and palm, pulled a deep breath, and blew. Hot air swirled around the suspended blob of water, and within seconds, the water began to boil.

When the last of the air had left her lungs, she drew a replenishing inhale, and willed the pure water back into their respective containers. Alistair handed her the caps, which she replaced, before shoving the freshly filled canteens back into their pouch.

Merely fourteen and she had already mastered such complex heat magic. Alistair found himself endlessly impressed with her on a near constant basis—which Angelique took great pride in, and would occasionally nag him about whenever he fell short in his own spellwork. He never minded it, though. He wanted her to maintain as much confidence as her heart could bear, because he knew that time would humble her, just as it inevitably humbled all healers.

Cool water splashed as they trudged through the creek, soaking Alistair up to his knees. The mule huffed as a few pebbles gave way, before finding his hooves on solid ground once again. Angelique tightly clung to the equine's short mane to hold herself steady.

Clambering onto the bank, Alistair regained his balance, and tugged at the reins to guide the mule from the water. The water soaking through his pants and boots grew increasingly more uncomfortable with each step, but he did his best to ignore it. When Angelique noticed his discomfort, she waved her hand and, as though pulling a thread from a quilt, forced the water from his clothes and boots. The water swirled around him briefly before she released her hold on it, splashing it onto the ground.

"Thank you." Alistair nodded towards his sister.

"Would it kill you to take care of yourself for a change?" Angelique groaned, rolling her eyes.

Alistair shrugged, and continued tugging the mule along.

The sun had all but vanished by the time they reached the clearing at the end of the path. Massive oak trees reached towards the blackening sky. Glowing mushrooms lined the path, growing over the bark of fallen timber. It was peaceful, and beautiful, and grand.