Mercedes Lackey - Owlsight

Firesong cleared his throat, and Darian put on an attentive look. If there was any chance his teacher would actually apologize, he wanted to encourage it.

“Silverfox gave me a bit of a lecture this morning, before the meeting,” Firesong finally said, actually sounding sheepish. “When you do something that is exceptionally mature, like taking on young Val and disabusing him of the notion that battle equals painless glory, I start thinking of you, not as a student, but as a potential peer. I get both of us in trouble when I do that, because then I expect a similar level of skill in mage-craft. I expect that’s what happened last night.”

He glanced at Darian out of the corner of his eye, and Darian just nodded, warily. He didn’t quite trust himself to actually say anything yet, but this was certainly a promising start.

“I got very impatient with you last night, and that was wrong of me. Silverfox very properly reminded me that you are someone who has not had the benefit of working with unlimited energy, and that you are a real youngster, not an adult like the people I’m used to training. You act like them, but you simply haven’t got experience.” He tossed his hair back over his shoulder, a habit Darian noticed he had when he was nervous. “The Herald-Mages I’ve trained have almost all been in their twenties, or even older. I keep forgetting that you’re only eighteen, and at the same level of teaching I was when I was only twelve or fourteen.”

Now Darian gingerly cleared his throat. “One year with poor Justyn, and four years working with teachers who are not Healing Adepts doesn’t equal the kind of education you had, no. But you are right in that sometimes I just am not grasping what’s going on. You were wrong in thinking it was because I’m too stubborn to admit my way is wrong; what you expect me to do simply doesn’t occur to me.” He flushed, thinking about how angry he’d gotten; the accusations still stung because they were so unjust. “You’re supposed to be my teacher, and it isn’t fair to force me to guess answers I can’t possibly reach! I think it might be because I’m not really Tayledras, and I’m not used to thinking and seeing things as so intimately interconnected. Hellfires, your entire religion is built around that!” He scratched his head and managed a sheepish grin of his own. “Maybe that’s why I got so hot and walked out of the lesson. It wasn’t until I cooled down that I was able to figure out what you were saying, and put it to use.”

“Maybe you should wear a crest of Valdemar on your forehead to remind me,” Firesong suggested facetiously.

He snorted. “Don’t tempt me, if wearing one would prevent another dressing-down like last night! Teach me, or don’t, but don’t play guessing games with me! That’s all I ask.”

Firesong’s posture conveyed a certain amount of discomfort - possibly because Darian had hit on several of the things Silverfox had evidently chided him about. “Silverfox has promised to sit in on our lessons if you don’t mind, and throw things at my head if I start getting unreasonable. And I wondered if you’d mind if we included that little Healer for the next couple of days? Having her there will keep me on better behavior, I suspect - and according to Nightwind, she could do with some of the same lessons you’re getting.”

“Having both Silverfox and Keisha there is all right with me,” Darian said instantly, hoping he could keep himself from betraying the fact that he would welcome Keisha there for more reasons than just sharing the lessons. He was more than a little interested in Keisha, yes indeed, and he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to see more of her at all!

“I’d also like to get the two of you working together now, so you can mesh your skills under my eye and not have to try it on your own,” Firesong continued, at last looking more at ease. “I work with Healers all the time, but the first time you try is often full of pitfalls. It’s like trying to do the kyanshi couple-dance when all you’ve ever done is children’s round-dances.” Darian sensed a sudden grin behind the mask. “Just thought you’d like to know what you’re in for.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thanks,” he said dryly. “All I have ever done magically is children’s round-dances, you know! And now you want me to attempt a fiendishly complicated display piece that not one couple in a hundred ever tries!”

“Nonsense,” Firesong dismissed. “Neither the magic nor the dance is as complicated as they look, which is part of the problem. Don’t worry, that’s why I want you to do it under my eye. I’ll walk you through it, and you’ll be amazed how quickly you pick it up.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Darian replied dubiously. “I suppose you’ll want to try this tonight?”

“Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow.” Firesong clapped him on the shoulder. “Tonight I plan to go over what I attempted to hammer into your thick skull last night, since you so obligingly told me you’d gotten the trick of it.”

Oh, hellfires. Now I’m in for it, and I don’t have any excuses. “Yes, Firesong,” Darian sighed. “I’ll be at the work-circle at sunset.”

It was morning, but there was no real reason to leap out of bed, and Darian liked having the leisure to lie in the dark, thinking and listening to the birds twitter in the vines. After the magic lessons of last night, shared with Keisha, he had a lot to think about.

She’d been attentive, very careful, with a fine, delicate mental touch. Much to Firesong’s amazement, they had meshed powers almost at once, with the same surety of mental “hand” reaching for “hand” as long-time partners.

Firesong had at least been polite enough to keep his comment of :Oh, so you like girls, do you?: strictly Sent to Darian, but he hoped that Keisha hadn’t noticed his sudden blush.

He’d been impressed - and although Keisha had not shown any such emotion on the surface, Darian could tell that beneath her calm exterior, she had been very close to tears of relief and joy.

Well, she’s spent a long time not knowing how to use her Gift, and not only being able to use it, but to know she can ask someone else to augment her power, must be just exhilarating.

He stretched and turned over on his side, with the scent of fresh linens and herbs tickling his nose. He could not imagine why other people had told him that Keisha was prickly. Serious, yes, and maybe too serious, but she’d had responsibility shoved at her for so long that she probably hadn’t learned how to have fun. But prickly?

Yet, so far, Val, Nightwind, Healer Gil, and even Lord Breon had warned him that Keisha was touchy, difficult to get to know, and held people at arm’s length. He just didn’t see any of those things in her - unless, if by “touchy,” they meant that she didn’t have any sympathy for fools, if by “difficult to get to know” they meant that she didn’t talk about things she wasn’t sure of, and if by “keeping people at arm’s length” they meant that she was shy. She was certainly shy. That seemed a little odd in someone who had such a mob of siblings, but maybe she’d learned to be very self-contained because of that.

People in Errold’s Grove respected her, but she didn’t have any suitors. She didn’t even have anyone he would have called a close friend. The young men of the village didn’t even seem to think of her as a girl.

All the better for me. If they can’t see how pretty she is, that’s their problem. On the other hand, maybe it’s a bit difficult for anyone to think romantically about the person who’s patched you up after doing something really stupid, and threatened to hold your nose and pour medicine down your throat when you‘ve had a sick stomach.