“Torneal, help Mavear up.” Relina says as she climbs a tall, wooden and rope ladder up to a house in the trees. The outside is painted a dark, forest green, and the roof is made of hay. I stare up at it, wondering how long and hard it must’ve been to build this. How many people? How much time?
Suddenly, Torneal—the man—puts his muscular arm around my waist and lifts me up. My head whips up to look at his serene face.
“Um, I think I can make it up there by myself.” I say, trying to pry away his hand. He proceeds to ignore my words, and starts to climb the ladder. “Hey, uh.” I look down and my stomach twists into a tight knot. The ground feels like it’s miles and miles away—we’re probably only, like, twenty feet up—and yet we're still climbing. My arms instinctively latch onto Torneal as he continues to climb, his grip steady. He must be insanely strong to be able to carry me with one arm this entire time like I’m a flower, and I can’t imagine how many times he’s done this to be able to not look like he’s about to shit his pants. Enough apparently.
When we reach the top, Torneal lifts me high enough for Relina to grab me and pull me up. I stand up from the floor, my heart still pounding a bit, and quickly dust off my pants, though there really isn’t any point since I’ll probably just get dirty again.
“Come. Sit.” Relina says, gesturing toward a cluster of wooden seats.
I walk over and sit on the edge of one of the seats. Torneal sits next to me, and Relina sits across from me. Relina places a few hemp stalks on a small table.
“Mr. Dean assigned you to work with rope making. It’s quite easy to learn the magic for this, but you can also hand weave it. That’s not too hard, either.”
I look up from the hemp. “I’m still a little confused about this whole magic thing. I thought it disappeared years ago.”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s still around. It’s just been forbidden in villages such as yours. Our tribe still teaches it, though. We mainly just use it for simple tasks such as getting fruit down from trees, but some people, such as Torneal, can use more powerful spells.” she says. “From a young age, the children in the village are watched, and from those observations, the elders choose who would be the best workers and magic users.”
“So, you’re saying that with my very own hands I can use magic? Like, real, magic?” I ask, still surprised.
“Yes.” She nods, and scooches the hemp closer.
“Do I start today, or is it just, like, get to know each other or something?” I ask, sliding my dirt crusted nails along the inside of my fingers as a way to calm my nerves.
“Today, we’ll just focus on how to weave rope without magic.” she says, grabbing three stalks and placing them side by side.
I watch carefully as her hands move quickly; over, under, over, under. The process is almost hypnotizing, my eyes never leaving her hands. After just a few minutes, she has a rope almost as tall as herself.
“Obviously you won’t be able to do it as fast as I can right away, or maybe never, but I’ve also been doing this my whole life.” she says, placing the rope back down. She crosses her arms and leans back a bit.
“Well, I guess I better get started.” I say, pulling some hemp towards me.
She chuckles lightly. “I guess so.”
I start off fairly slow, messing up every now and then, too, but after a while, my pace becomes smooth.
“You’re better at this than most people.” Relina says, staring intently as my hands go over and under each other.
“Am I?” I ask, trying to focus.
“Yeah, a lot of people get mad and throw it on the ground after a few minutes, but you’re just speeding through.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her smile, and I can’t help but feel like I’ve made someone proud … made grandpa proud. A lump forms in my throat as I think about him. I can’t imagine how lonely he must be on the farm. Most of the people in the village find him odd, so they don’t really associate with him, other than the Barlets, Mable’s family. There also isn’t anyone to help him on the farm, or with household chores, or get him a glass of water when he’s exhausted.
What if he thinks something happened to me? He must be worried because he didn’t get notified. What if he went out to search for me but got hurt? What if he got lost? What if no one ever finds him?
A firm hand on my shoulder snaps me back into reality, and I realize I’m on my knees on the ground, my chest heaving. My gaze shifts to Torneal, whose face is surprisingly calm—quite the opposite of mine. My chest is tight and my face is hot, tears streaming onto the ground. How long have I been like this? I grip the fabric of my shirt, letting the pain of my fingers digging into my flesh stop my racing mind.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice deep and gruff. I think these are the first words he’s spoken—at least to me—since we’ve met.
“F-ine,” I choke, stifling a breath. I swipe at my eyes, then glance at Torneal. His eyes search mine for something, but I don’t speak. I look back at the ground and take a deep, shaky breath.
After a few moments, Torneal supports my shaky body as I try to stand up. I put my stool back up right and sit down. Relina comes back in with a gourd and hands it to me.
“It’s water. Should help you calm down.” she says, her eyes full of pity.
I nod and take a small sip, just as she sits back down across from me. I sniffle and wipe at the tear stains on my face.
“Thank you.” My voice comes out small, just like how I feel right now. I stare at the table, purposefully avoiding eye contact. I hate crying in front of people. It makes me feel tiny. Unimportant. Helpless. But I guess I am all of those things. I just never realized.28Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtFxLM037Wb
and then Add to home screen.