Placing the wooden pot next to the fire, not on it or close enough to be lit on fire if it were normal wood, and picking up a stick to use to create a flat enough surface for the wooden pot to rest on. Ard stayed next to me, watching me figure out how to place the pot of wood without having it spill. The pot itself was more slender than it was wide, although it wasn't so slender as to look wrong or malformed. Balancing it would have to be intentional, and not too many sticks should be under it lest it tip over.

Clearing out a small circle and placing the pot in the center, but not before testing the fire resistance of the wood by placing it directly over a flame for a while, and being assured of the fact it wasn't going to light on fire, I watched as it the wood didn't darken or catch fire. I waited for a while until I finally saw steam rise from the water within, and then bubbling as the water started to truly boil. This wood might transfer heat much more efficiently than even our pots did.

I looked over at Ard, whose face was still but her hood bobbing and shifting around behind her, and nodded. This will definitely work. The acorns were not shelled, they were still trapped within the confines of their woody prisons. I would have to crack them open with rocks sometime. Perhaps it'd be smart to start a fire near the water basin, as there were plenty of anvil rocks and hammer rocks to work with there. For now I would create edible acorns, and then forage for more when that is done. Ard might become restless if I didn't eat anything on my own for too long.

Finally, although I hated the thought, I wanted Ard to teach me how she had gotten the meat she had been giving me the past few days. Less work for her in the long run, and my independence would be assured by the ability to hunt. Ideally it wouldn't be large game, but small. If she knew how to set traps it would be perfect. After that, it would be building a hut. And if that went well, perhaps I could start preparing for the construction of an actual roundhouse. Not because I wanted one, but just to show Ard how it's made.

Although it would be better if she saw actual experienced men build it rather than I. She'd need to interact with other villagers for that, and since Ard was so curious about the construction of a simple roundhouse I'd think it'd be an accurate guess to say she didn't interact with many villages, or villagers. She is not human. If my running theory of her trying to tame me with food was accurate, then it'd also be fair to assume she doesn't think highly of us.

Looking at the boiling water, and the workmanship of the crafts she's given me, and even her hospitality, I wouldn't think it'd be unfair to say the láchs, as she called herself, were pretty advanced. Perhaps much more advanced than we humans were. Being looked down on isn't fun or pleasant, but it isn't something I haven't experienced before. I looked down at my maimed hand, still heavily scarred, almost unnatural. I would not be welcome in any other villages but my own, no one would want a mute and a cripple.

I've slowly gotten more movement from my finger, I could almost clench them all now. It didn't hurt, I could barely feel anything, but I could still grab things and that's enough. How hard I'm grabbing, or how softly, I couldn't feel either. I could feel the burning of my muscle, but not how much strength I was putting into things. Not in the same way I would've normally, at least. From what I've heard of burn scars, this wasn't normal.

Ard was still next to me, watching the fire alongside me. Sitting, her ears no longer moved so much. It had gotten dark, and the pot of water was still boiling. I couldn't see the night's moon, she was too covered by trees for me to do so. But the fire provided me light, and I've already been sleeping too much. Still, there was very little I could do with so little light out. Reaching out to grab the pot and take it out of the fire, Ard grabbed my cloak and stopped me from moving too far.

"Don't touch the pot unless you want to burn yourself. It transfers heat very well, what would you think would happen if you touched it?" her tone disciplinary, she let go of my cloak and rested her hand once again on her lap.

Right, I forgot. I once again sat down, thinking of a way to move the pot without burning myself in the process. The pot was too large for me to use sticks to pick up, I guess the best thing I could do would be to spill the water out and roll it away. But that would cause me more problems than it provided to me solutions.

Ard looked at me for a while. I didn't meet her gaze, letting her stare at my with impunity. Eventually she got up and made to grab the pot herself, and I watched as I shot out to grab her wrist before her hand touched the wood, almost out of instinct I moved. Ard looked over my way and turned her head in a questioning manner, not moving but watching me as I let go of her. I wasn't ashamed of grabbing her, she was about to hurt herself right after telling me of the risk of the wood herself.

Finally she straightened out her back, whereas it was slouched as to help in picking up the pot. She turned to me and out stretched her hand, palms up. Her hand was as pale as her face, looking identical to a human's save for the fact of having sharper nails than I'd expect on most people, unless filed intentionally to be sharp. She shooked it a couple of times while I dumbly looked at it, as if trying to tell me to grab it. I did so, wordlessly. Although it's not like I had any other way to do it but wordlessly.

Laying my own hand, which dwarfed her own, on top, I waited for whatever she wanted to do. She forced our palms together, twisting her wrist so it was more like we were high fiving. Then I felt a flow. More delicate than I would expect elemental flow to go, but in the movement I could feel something indescribable. Softer and more gentle than a fire, but hidden within its slow movement great ferocious infernos could be felt. If this faery wanted to, she could incinerate me in an instant. I could feel it in my bones, in my heart, in my soul.

But I could also guess that wasn't what she wanted to show me. She continued to move the the fire elemental in her hand, in strange circular patterns across her hands. I could feel the movement of her hand, up to her elbow, as if it were my own. I could get addicted to this sensation of powerlessness, and this feeling of overwhelming awe.

"I've seen some of your magic. Very primitive, your kind barely knows what you are playing with. Instead of twisting the elements outside of your body, move the magic that exist within you in order to strengthen flesh and bones. You have enough magic to do so, I think," Ard told me, while looking me in my eyes. "Mimic what you feel in my hands."

We stayed still for a while, me watching her hand intently, not into her eyes as that was more of a distraction than it was helpful. Not because I was embarrassed or anything, obviously.

After long moments of silence, I finally grasped what she was doing. She was in fact spinning fire elementals within her hand, almost as if trying to mimic the movement of fire itself. The licking of flame, the dissipation, the slow movement of everything captured in each moment of flow within her palms. I tried to do the same, but what elements were there to move? The webs of light, the new ones that I didn't know how to deal with, might be touched in trying to mimic her movements. I looked over to her eyes, but she provided me with no new knowledge.

Instead she let go and sat down. No moving to touch the pot, instead watching the fire, her hands where they were before. As if nothing had happened at all. I nodded and looked at my palm for a long while. The fire elementals within me I tried to feel. I felt as if I had very little of it compared to Ard, but more than that, much more than the amount, the control I could feel in her movement was beyond my comprehension. She could probably kill me just through depriving me of my elementals rather than through any real magic, I felt she had more control over my own body than I myself did.

I meditated on the elementals within myself, losing myself in the sensation of everything within me. The beating of my heart, slowly decreasing in rate as time went on. The movement of water within me, the fire that erupted from my heart with each beat. The wind that served as the basis of my mind, and the earth that solidified the entire structure. Each movement of my body being supported by a slight movement of fire, and each thought expressing itself in a slight wisp of air.

I had spent the entire night thinking of these things, overlaying the feeling of Ard's hand with what pitiful structure I had within me. Where her internal structures had been made and carved from the finest craftsmen known to men, mine had felt like a crude lump of clay thrown against a stone and smashed into the vague shape of a human. I had very little control over how the elementals moved, and the greatest of movement I could only get from the earth.

Eventually I had gotten a control over the fire elemental that mimicked Ard's own control. I could feel it was in the image of it, but deep within I felt it wrong. It felt shallow, fake, as if it wasn't the real structure. It had felt like days, the feeling of irritation growing within my breast. When I opened up my eyes once again, once the feeling of irritation gave way to anger, and then to rage, I was surprised to see the fire had more or less died out into embers. The water inside the pot no longer there, either. It was morning, once again.

Ard was standing near me. I could feel her presence, something I wouldn't have felt before. She was lazily eating at another piece of meat, wrapped up in the strange leaf. My own portion was next to her. When she noticed my eyes were open she made to give me my share, which I accepted, before putting it down on the ground and going to find more debris to throw on the fire. Ard had most likely not helped in the fire, since she had explicitly told me I shouldn't let it die out. It was my job, not hers.

The irritation of my lack of control over the elements exploded into anger at my own carelessness. Would there be dry enough wood to relight the flame? Would there be any coals left in the fire? I picked up a stick and tried to find any pieces of coals. My elemental sight told me there was still fire lingering, but would it be enough? I did find a small piece of coal, and I gently blew on it to see if it was still alive.

It glowed red. Yes, now was the hard part. Finding dry enough wood. I went towards the pile of debris I had gathered, mostly sticks and twigs, and picked them all up. Grabbing the rock I had carried over, I stated to split them in two so that the dry center could be reached. It wasn't as wet as it was yesterday but it was still wet.

Quickly heading over to the fire, I threw some wood chips that were more or less dry from the quick splitting of branches. I broke the twigs and also laid them on top, although the twigs were wet I'd hope the fire would still spread to them, if the chips of dry wood would light. Now that this is all done I started to blow, and to my delight the wood had begun to smoke. I blew until fire, true fire, started to show itself. I waited until the fire had spread itself across most of the twigs before throwing branches on top. I picked up the pot, after first touching it briefly to see if it was still hot. It wasn't, although it was warm. I shifted that to the side.

I looked over to Ard, with a smile on my face, but she was watching the fire rather than me. Though, she did notice my stare and stared back. I could feel she didn't understand why I was looking at her. I wiped the smile off my face and headed towards the leaf packed meat she had given me and sat down once again. Slapping off any dirt that may have clung onto the bottom of the leaf, I bit through the leaf and into the meat once again.

The meat was slightly more tender this time, although it still had the same redness. I think this is the same animal I've been eating, the days of aging had made the meat more palatable rather than less. I wonder how Ard had been keeping the meat fresh enough to cook, was she freezing it? I doubt that. Was there magic involved? The feeling of being within the palm of the hand of Ard welled up in my chest. For this faery, I'm sure everything is somehow magic related. I continued to eat the venison in silence.

"Did you learn anything? With the shifting of magic, I mean." Ard spoke up, a nonchalant, almost bored voice, and her green eyes that just stared into the dancing fires. I shook my head.

"I see. Do you want another demonstration?"

I shook my head. As much as the feeling was awesome, I didn't want to feel it again. Not anytime soon, at least. She nodded, then got up, and started walking into the forest.

"I'll be back once night comes. Do whatever you need to do until then."

With that Ard left me, chewing on my venison. I'll shell the acorns today, and figure out how to prepare the nuts afterwords. This shouldn't take longer than a day to do, although it might very well take me an entire day. The hardest part will be figuring out how to handle the pot without burning myself.

Picking up the pot, which had indeed not gotten at all burnt, I dumped as much acorns inside as I could get. The majority of it I could get inside, but there was a good amount left behind that I'd need to prepare either today or some other day.

Walking towards the stream, the wetness of the land had begun to permeate in the wind, the sun working his light towards drying out the land. I would hope it would be dry within the coming days, I didn't want to deal with soggy shoes, socks, and feet for the rest of my stay out here in the wilds. Another point to building the hut as fast as I possibly could.

The basin was as I saw yesterday. The stream of water flowing into it wasn't so strong, but there was still enough to get a good amount of water. I hadn't died from dysentery yet, so it's probably safe enough to drink. Cupping my hands under the stream I scooped up water and drank. My waterskin was still more or less filled, I just wanted to do that.

Digging a hole in the ground in order to make an area to dump my acorns into, I placed the pot down and started gathering fire wood. It would of course be wet, but I can't do anything else. Picking up a sizeable branch I went back to my camp.

The walk itself is roughly twenty minutes, definitely not something I want to go back and forth to regularly.

The fire was still alive, of course. There was enough wood on it to last for a while. Putting my branch inside of the fire I waited for it to catch fire, which took a bit as the branch was wet. Now would be walking as fast as I could back towards the water basin. I didn't want to light the entire forest on fire accidentally, so I wouldn't run

Once I arrived, an entire hour spent just walking back and forth between the water basin and my camp, I dumped the branch onto a pile of fire wood and watched as it slowly spread its fire. I'll let it burn for a while, I want to find an anvil and a rock to beat acorns with.

Finding a good flat rock and a good round rock, I brought my pot over, filled it halfway with water, and set it to my side. Then I placed an acorn, brown and dark, on the anvil and sent the hammer stone down sharply. I didn't want to smash the thing open, just crack it so that I could pry open the shell and get to the nut inside. The nut split open and revealed a glimmer of the nut inside.

I did this until I felt I had gotten enough shelled acorns into the pot.

Placing it within the center of the fire once again, I started to think about how I would pour out the water. How would I keep the acorns inside while I did so? I might have to dirty some of my clothes in order to filter out the water, or I could dump it into the ground and hope enough of it will be filtered out into the earth, leaving the nuts inside safe enough to pick up and place back into the pot.

But moving the pot was much more of a problem. The fire elementals within me, originating from within my heart as I had learned in the long meditation I accidentally committed myself to last night, wouldn't move in the way Ard had made her own elementals move. It looked like it had the basic form of it, but it felt like a shell. A lifeless imitation of some else's work. Perhaps I would have to figure out the movement by myself, and not rely on Ard's demonstration in order to cast a proper spell.

The spell itself was similar to the one I used to pick nettles with. Rather, superficially it might look similar. But the process of casting that particular spell, which had been designed by my master, relied entirely on external control of the elements rather than internal ones. I didn't have any experience casting spells that relied on what's within me. And the actual patterns, the details, the complexity of the spells felt leagues different from each other. But moving internal elementals was supposed to be my talent, but this faery had shown to me how incompetent I was even with that.

I stared into the fire, watching as the water boiled and darkened. Sitting on a rock that had already dried, I waited for the best moment to pour out the water. It would need to be dark, and I would repeat the process until the water no longer turned so dark. Perhaps I should be spending my time cracking open more nuts, but that would be pointless if I couldn't figure out a way to move the pot. Tipping it over and hoping enough water would flow out, and not too many nuts with it, sounded like my best choice. But it'd inevitably spread water to the fire.

Watching the fire intently, my mind drifting away from my thoughts and into the simple beauty of the twisting and contorting flames, I stopped thinking for a while and simply watched. Both overthinking and underthinking had been my bane for a long while now. The quick and sometimes slow movement of the fire calmed my mind, not allowing me to fall too deep into unproductive thought and not too deep into a pointless stupor. Licking against the wood, dispersing and dying out as it rises into the air. The element itself, in its raw manifest form, was enchanting to me.

I tried to draw similarities between what I saw and what Ard had done. Hers, while similar in feeling and sight, was almost artistic rather than real. But that rendition of the fire felt stronger than the one I was watching in front of me. Perhaps that was the entire point, in order to protect yourself from the flame you'd have to create a stronger one within. That's a bit dumb, why not just use water if you wanted your hands not to burn?

The idea of the fire itself might have been more important than the actual reality of the fire. The idea of a burning hot substance, the idea of a raging inferno, the idea of something that can quench the heat of a fire through making it relatively less hot in comparison, simply burning so hot that fire itself felt cold. Wouldn't your hand burn in doing so? What made Ard's hand, which felt as if it carried within it the sun itself, not burst into flame? Why wasn't her hand hot?

I played out the feeling of her fire again and again my head. Each rendition becoming slightly more and more real, slightly more visible, something more understandable. I felt for the elemental fires within me and moved it towards my left hand. I repeated that thought of the fire more real than the fire that stood in front of me. The slow trickle of fire within my hand started to roll and boil, becoming a slightly less pathetic imitation of what Ard had done. But this time, it felt real. It was my idea of fire, it was a beginning. But I wanted to test it.

I brought my hand, the left hand, near to the fire. I couldn't feel the heat, not even when my hand was within the fire itself. I placed it on the pot itself, and to my delight I couldn't feel the burning. Quickly I brought the same sensation to my right hand, which could hold the pot relatively well, and placed it on the pot. I couldn't feel a burning sensation, but that might also be due to not being able to feel anything in that hand to begin with. I took it off the pot and inspected it. No melted skin, nothing that indicated the scar tissue itself was damaged.

Although I had no idea why that worked, the tingling of triumph ran through my spine.