The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)
Candles

It had been hours. Lessa stared at her seven-lit candles. This was going to take days.

Reaching into her magic was supposed to be getting easier, but she swore it was getting harder. When she lost focus digging into her magic, which was often, she was ricocheted forcefully away from it. Resulting in a painful snapping in her brain. Now she had a throbbing headache.

“Care for a lunch break?” Zar’s voice had Lessa pop upright. She had been leaning over the table using a candle like a giant crayon.

He and Worran both entered the room, each bearing a tray of food. Lessa gratefully took a little sandwich from the tray in Worran’s hand and sat on the floor with it.

“How long have you been in here?” Worran asked, looking at Lessa’s progress.

She glared at him.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said, setting his tray on the floor and sitting cross-legged in front of it.

After giving the burning candles one more glance Zar sat as well, a pensive look on his face.

Lessa chewed her food sullenly, glaring a hole in the wall.

Thankfully, Zar said nothing but started to eat as well.

“Hey, Lessa,” Worran started, mouth half full of apple. “What is worse than finding a worm in your apple?”

“What Worran?”

“Getting attacked by a dragon?” A smirk cracked across his face.

Worran looked at Lessa expectantly. “I thought now that you are actually speaking Kathardrean…. How about this one, what do people in Ishtargen call dragons?”

Lessa shook her head slowly.

“A feast!” He grinned, looking between Lessa and Zar.

Zar groaned.

“I don’t get it,” Lessa said flatly.

“Ishtargens are known for eating the alligators,” Zar explained with an eye roll.

Lessa looked at Worran with a skeptical expression.

His grin dropped from his face.

“Lessa.” Zar sounded like he was trying to broach a difficult subject. “Kathardrean children have to be taught to have strong control of their emotions from a very young age.”

Lessa bristled, where was he going with this? Did she not have the same control over her emotions as a Kathardrean child might?

“You’re getting annoyed before he even finished speaking. So yes,” Storm butted in.

“Because, if we don’t, we are more likely to Snap. As you saw firsthand, emotions have a considerable influence on wielding. But, I was thinking, if you are careful, you might be able to use that to your advantage.”

“Zar-” Worran started, looking concerned.

Lessa cut him off. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Snapping only happens with extreme emotions. The magic and the emotion get twisted until the wielder is a slave to them. But you can use mild emotions to help you open your magic.”

“Zar this is a bad idea,” Worran said curtly. Lessa looked at Worran surprised. All levity was gone from his expression, he looked downright mad at Zar.

“It might help.” Generally, Zar’s didn’t moderate his tone with Worran. But now, he was being gentle.

Worran stood and left without another word.

“What’s going on with him?” Lessa asked.

Deliberation danced on Zar’s face before he spoke. “Worran has a brother who is a wielder.”

Lessa nodded, “he told me that. He said that he had snapped once?”

“Yes. But Worran is the one who made him Snap.”

Lessa’s eyes went wide at this revelation.

Zar nodded, “Worran and Felrith have never been ones to get along. Worran is the youngest, Felrith is only about ten months older than him. They are sons number six and seven, constantly competing for their father's attention, who never seemed to have enough to go around. So, when Felrith came into his magic, quite suddenly their father started paying more attention to one of them.”

“The one who could wield,” Lessa breathed.

Again, Zar nodded. “A massive portion of Kathardra’s economy rotates around magic. We have so few strong wielders that whenever someone shows some strength they are almost immediately guaranteed a life of wealth, no matter the profession they choose. And for a family of hunters who do not earn much...

“So, Worran felt invisible. Clearly, punishing your brother for something he didn't choose to be wasn’t right,” Zar shrugged, “but things look much differently when you are nine. So one day, Worran pushed Felrith too far and he Snapped. And their mother almost died.”

Wide-eyed, Lessa stared in disbelief. “And you still-”

“I know. It was stupid.”

“What happened to their mom, I mean, she’s ok?”

“Yes. It took her a couple of weeks to fully recover, she lost a lot of blood. But my father got to her in time.”

Silence hung between them for an extended moment. As it always seemed to do when Zar’s dad came up.

“Zar,” she tentatively touched his forearm. “What happened to your father?”

He shifted, pulling away from her touch. I won’t try that again, she mused as her face reddened. He didn’t seem to notice though, his head tilted back against the table, arms propped on his knees.

“I didn’t know for a long time, all my mom would say is that he had to leave, to protect us…”

It was clear that he had more to say, but he was looking for the words, Lessa waited.

“Kaven finally told me what actually happened. Golathar got wind of a Rhodrin heir living in Haven.

“Golathar had amassed an army to wipe out Haven. Back then it wasn’t the town it is now, it was hardly a settlement. His excuse was that we weren’t paying taxes, had no official representation with the local Lord, and had no writ of settlement.

“My father went to him and negotiated a bargain. The Rhodrin heir, in exchange for absolution for Haven.”

A gasp escaped Lessa’s lips, “He gave himself up, in your place.” Lessa would have given anything to take back her words the moment she spoke them. Pain shot through Zar’s expression and his eyes squeezed shut for a long moment.

She was still trying to get her foot out of her mouth when he opened his eyes again.

“That was years ago, but it still hurts like it was yesterday.”

“I’m sorry, Zar.”

He shook his head, shaking away the emotions, then he picked up the candle Lessa had dropped on the stone floor. He held it up for her. “Like I was saying, we are taught to use magic with no emotions, but for now you can use mild emotions to help you grasp your magic. Just know that if you open up your magic with any emotion at all it will redouble what you are feeling. You have to be careful.”

Lessa took the candle from Zar and closed her eyes, searching for a happy memory. All that was coming to mind was Zar, the way he hugged her after they dueled in front of Haven, the way he would bump her with his elbow when she was sitting next to him and he wanted her attention. Lessa started the process of reaching for her magic.

“Stop,” Storm barked at her.

“What?”

“If holding magic with emotion is going to double your emotions, what would that memory do?”

A deep blush spread across Lessa’s face.

“Right, that is probably a bad idea.”

“Try this instead.” Storm brought to Lessa’s mind the first time they had flown with a saddle together. She was right, it had been marvelous.

While she held the happiness of the memory Lessa started pushing on the wall in her mind. Instead of chipping away at it she felt like she was drilling a precise hole, it wasn’t much faster, but it was faster.

When she finally broke through to the magic it flooded through her just as it had before, but with it came a tide of elation. Euphoria tinted Lessa’s thoughts, she grinned and gleefully spoke the spell.

“Ilstayum,” she said, then released her magic.

The exhilaration faded back to a base level.

“That could be intoxicating…” she said mostly to herself.

“Yes, that is also a danger. It’s not really addictive. But, on top of being taught to control our emotions, welders have to learn young to not let themselves revel in magically enhanced emotions.”

“Why? I understand that you need to teach kids to not Snap. But why would you need to avoid that? It was… It felt good.”

“Well, you can kill yourself wielding magic.”

“What!”

This time, Zar’s nod was sober. “If you use too much magic it will kill you. Opening your magic with emotions can be… Distracting. You might lose track of your limits. Using more than you have will siphon not only your magical energy but your physical energy as well. And it is not a good substitute for magic.

“Burning through physical energy can kill someone almost instantly, depending on how healthy they are. If your body can’t produce enough energy to keep up with the demand it pulls directly from your body. Including your heart.”

“Didn’t you think it would have been a good idea to mention that?”

Zar shrugged, “I don’t realize the things I have to explain until it comes up. You don’t have to explain to an adult to not grab the blade of a sword.”

At that moment Cinder walked around the door frame into the room, he froze with an annoyed expression. “Eight? All you’ve done is eight?”

“I still don’t like you.”

“Like me or not, you need to get this done. The last student I assigned this task to got this done in under three days!”

Lessa only glowered at him.

“Well. I’ll leave you to it.” Zar collected the lunch trays and left with Cinder.

“Three days,” she scoffed. “I’ll do it in one.”

Using mild emotions, as Zar had told her Lessa lit thirty more candles. Cinder had come to check on her again, he poked his head in the door, assessed her progress, and left without a word.

Her head was pounding again, but she tried to ignore it.

She was up to about seventy the next time Cinder checked in. Zar and Worran were there as well, looking over his shoulders. But her body language and determined expression kept them silent.

They left her alone after that.

But Lessa was so consumed by her assignment that she might not have noticed if anyone had come through the door anyway.

Around candle one hundred and fifty Lessa thought she noticed a change in how easy it was to light the candles. Perhaps the wall wasn’t as thick as it once had been.

She pushed on.

There was a definite change around two hundred and thirty, the struggle was only about half as hard. The brick wall keeping her from her magic was now a mere fence she had to climb over. Excited with her progress, Lessa pushed harder, increasing the pain in her head to a throbbing migraine. But the pain she could handle. She ignored the pressure behind her eyes and kept lighting candles.

Candle three hundred sixty-nine, the fence had become a four-foot gate, the height that someone would surround their yard with. It was fairly easy to climb over. She could light several candles a minute now.

And she no longer had to use emotions to access the magic. Which was a relief. It was exhausting to deliberately swing her emotions up and down.

Candle four hundred twenty-three, the fence was now a landscaping cub, simple to step over.

Candle five hundred. The brick wall that had once so successfully kept her out was no more than a line in the sand.

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