Stallion Mage: A Horse Shifter Mpreg Romance (COMPLETE)

A Mage's Duty (18+)

Whatever it was, he hoped that he would be able to grow grass for the tribe. That's all I ask, for me, my foal, my mate, and my tribe-brothers to be healthy.

The thought somehow settled his worries, as though Nature had heard him. Alvarr bent over and began to collect the smaller fallen branches. When he had so many sticks that he could hardly see over the top of them, he made his way back along the path that his equine self had made. "Is this enough?" he asked, dropping them in the snow.

Elder Mastok had laid two small mounds of wood splinters next to each other. "Choose the smallest, oldest sticks and bring some to me," the old man instructed.

When Alvarr did, and knelt next to one of the mounds, Elder Mastok started laying the sticks in a particular way. "You do the same, young mage."

Elder Mastok inspected Alvarr's attempt. "That will do. You'll see why in a moment, but first, bring some of the thicker sticks over. We will need those as well."

After Alvarr brought larger sticks and arranged them to Elder Mastok's satisfaction, the old man brought out the two stones. "These are not ordinary stones. They are fire-stones," he said, and knocked them together.

A bright shower of sparks erupted from them, landing on the snow.

"It's like lightning!" Alvarr said, shuffling away.

"It won't hurt you." The Elder held the rocks over his cone of sticks and knocked them together again. This time, sparks landed on the splintered wood and sent up a tiny curl of smoke. "But you can see that one of these sparks has the potential to catch fire, if given the right conditions."

"So that's how you do it," Alvarr breathed, both intrigued and frightened. "Like lightning in the woods."

"It's the easiest way. There are others, but using fire-stones is faster, and easier on these old hands." The Elder made more sparks, then blew gently on the splinters, making them smoke more. Alvarr saw an orange glow creep over them, and a small flame.

Elder Mastok held the rocks to him. "It's your turn," he said.

Nervous, Alvarr took the rocks and made the same motions. It was not as easy as the Elder had made it look, but he, too, had a small fire, burning first the splinters, then the small sticks, and the large sticks on the outside.

"The fire will not spread. We are safe, surrounded by snow," Elder Mastok reassured him. "When the wind blows, move so that the smoke does not move into your face. It is not good to breathe," he added unnecessarily.

The mage watched the two small fires burn. As the fire consumed more of the wood, they had to stand farther away. Though alarm would not let him relax, he also got a sense of immense power.

Entire dwellings could be destroyed like this in a few heartbeats. Their entire camp could be swept away by flames, if they walked away from one of these fires closer to camp. Alvarr shuddered. It was good that this knowledge wasn't made available to everyone. He was not sure if he would ever build a fire alone.

"Look, young mage." Elder Mastok touched his arm, then pointed at the ground.

The snow had melted, leaving broken stalks of grass, mud, and stones. And it was also melting the snow that they had not cleared, the edges of the snow softening into water, running into the ground.

"Do you think, if we cleared more of the ground, that you would be able to grow grass there?"

Alvarr frowned and reached into the ground below the fire with his power. What he found there reassured him; for the first time, he got a sense of ancient cycles, of fire and rebirth. "Grass will grow. Whether I can do it, I cannot tell you yet."