《Amanda De'Heron》Chapter 11 - Growing
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Somehow life continued, Her father started spending more time in the mountains. Sometimes he wouldn’t return for a few days, but when he did he came back with a sack of ore or gemstones. He of course told her he expected to be gone for a few days, and when that happened Amanda was even free to practice at home.
Amanda pressed harder and harder on herself to make more progress. She spent most days in the village. Whether or not they had any lessons for her. She spent time with Anara now, the older woman showing more years on her face. Either for the company she provided, or the knowledge she sometimes emparted. Somewhere along the way Amanda thought they had become something like friends. It was calming to hear her talk about her family, she often sent Amanda home with something to share with her father. It was fairly common that she might say something like, “Leon spends too much time in those mountains, he should come down to the village instead.”
Amanda liked Anara, but deep down she knew that wasn’t going to happen, her father and her both seemed to prefer their distance to the village in a sense. Sure she spent a lot of time there, but it was mostly on the periphery, usually not interacting with the village people beyond sitting in for lessons. Anara excluded of course.
When she wasn’t engaged with Anara or learning some tidbit from another villager willing to teach her she found somewhere on the edge of the village to sit and practice. She would sit, and focus on her shade in secret. She sometimes tried to look busy doing something, whether it was trying to make a basket, or cut at a bit of wood, some days she just stared off into the distance while focusing on the aura around her.
Using her shade started with small movements, like tiny fingers reaching from her body. Weeks of practice beyond that got them thinner and longer. More time practicing and she could make them thicker. They were sluggish at first moving like a thick syrup. But the more she practiced, the better she got at it.
Summer became fall, and winter came again. Her lessons continued, and the young women and young men that took part in the lessons stopped coming, having completed their own right of passage they were now considered adults.
A new normal settled in between Amanda and her father. He made money from his ores, selling them to traders that came through rarely. They started sparing in the early mornings now that she was a bit bigger. For her it was a learning experiencing like any other, one that she intended to absorb entirely. Her father however had a talent for martial combat that she herself did not. Or so she thought, he never told her such, or even hinted at it. But it was hard to think of anything else when everytime she seemed to get a bit better her father seemed to do the same. Still all the same it was good to spend time with him in some way. Their hours in the morning practicing reminded her of a time that was quickly becoming distant; when they had sat on that stump and would spend hours just talking and practicing aura sight.
New babies were born in the village, but in the end her and her father were still outsiders. More so now than before, the children she had once played with were a distant memory and all that remained was the knowledge that at one time she had played with some of them. Amanda wasn’t the only one eager to grow up either, young men and women in the village began to apprentice for one task or another. Most aimed to continue what their father or mother had done. Whether that was having a family, or learning some unique skill was up to them. A few even went south to learn by joining a caravan, and heading to Synovo. Amanda couldn’t help but be a bit envious of them.
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There were new arrivals as well, something that Amanda had never realized before. More people found their way to the village each year, adding their own skills to the growing village. There was even a discussion about perhaps even giving name to their home. Not that Amanda had any interest or say in that.
Seasons slipped past as Amanda practiced and learned. Her father bought her a few books, one he had to request specifically, an introduction primer for Magus. It became almost nightly reading for her. As she stayed up late huddled close to the crystal lamp trying to gleam any hint or tip she could from the text.
She read it over and over again, but in the end it was more fact and description then guide to practice. Still it helped explain things, and for a time she could converse with her father about something without feeling so distant. But it only went so far before her questions strayed too far, and her father or her would shutdown.
She continued her writing practice, and even started to learn to draw to some limited degree. In the end however it was all chalk and slate, and she truly had no real interest in drawing.
At one point she had woken to find blood had soaked into several of her furs. Terrified by what had happened she asked her father, only for him to send her down to the village to speak with Anara. It was a very awkward conversation that Amanda had been glad she didn’t have to talk with her father about afterall. Especially considering their own distance lately. Amanda was glad that Anara and her had gotten closer. She taught Amanda about what was happening, and even helped by teaching her basic remedies should she need them.
For a time Amanda attempted to trade for her own books, trying to imitate her fathers craft with a chisel, or weave baskets or sew like some of the women in the village. In the end she had little interest or progress with any of it. She was so focused on trying to be a Magus that the only other skill she had mastered was being alone. Strangely that distance with her father at some point became comfortable in it's own way. Not in a warm and reassuring manner, but in a stable and accepted sense.
In the end she made little to no coin of her own. So she instead started joining her father on his trips to the mountains. As it turned out her father used his aura sight to find ore buried in the stone, and then dig it out with his shade. Amanda’s own aura sight had expanded considerably since that first year, and so she offered to help. It was harder than she thought it might be, since the aura didn’t tell you what something was made of, or what something was, it was instead a way of gleaming the heat, light or other aspects the natural world held. This didn’t mean you couldn’t use it to find things like ore, it just meant it was more nuanced.
It was all about finding the subtle edges where the material below their feet heated, or cooled more rapidly during the day. As the warmth moved deeper into the ground as the warmth of the sun showed on the world around them the heat moved in, and down. If the ground was a single large chunk of the same type of stone it would be a nice smooth transition downward. But if there was metal buried within it would suck up the heat quicker, and it would be uneven. Unfortunately the ground was also covered with dirt, soil, clays, pebbles and other types of rock.
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Her father welcomed her help, even if she was slow, and impatient at the task. Amanda wasn’t sure what he intended to use the ore or crystals he dug up in those months for, and strangely she couldn’t find the courage to ask him. In the end it was nothing but a distraction from the reality that was slowly marching towards her. This year was her own right of passage, along with the few children that were also ready for the trial.
Somehow before she had realized it six winters had passed since that first day when she had demanded her father teach her about the aura. She found herself sitting in bed, a book on her lap leafing through pages wondering if she had missed some crucial tidbit. In truth she knew she hadn’t, she’d read that book more times then she even knew. Yet she looked anyway, and at some point she had been distracted by her thoughts instead.
While she was idly thinking about the past few years, her father pushed the door open, “Amanda, we should really discuss the upcoming trial.” he said standing in her doorway.
Amanda glanced up to regard her father, it wasn’t often he came to her room anymore. She had been so lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t even noticed him coming over, or pushing the door open.
Her father scratched for a moment at his stubble, “I suppose I probably should have gotten you something nicer to wear...” He mused.
Amanda glanced down at the simple hide shirt and pants she wore. She didn’t see any problem with it, it was what she always wore. Though these days she usually fixed it instead of her father. Anara helped if she needed to resize it, she was good at adding hide into the clothing so that she could adjust it later, and she was in a bit of a growth spurt, so that was likely going to be needed again very soon.
“What's wrong with this?” She asked, pulling her attention to the present and out of the past.
Her father let out a breath. “Well, there's nothing wrong with it...” He admitted, “But I can’t help but think that your mother would scold me if she knew that her daughter had become a young woman and lacked any sense of feminine poise.”
Amanda blinked at the mention of her mother. “Was she so interested in dresses and such?” she asked, not wanting to stall the conversation more than seeking the knowledge itself.
Her father shook his head, “Not exactly, but seeing you reminds me so much of her now.” he said, taking a deep breath. Obvious that his own memories were just below the surface. “I just can’t help but imagine all the things she would want to have taught you. The things she would want to share with you.” He glanced away, “That's all... Besides when you get to Vanshimer you’ll need to adjust.”
“Adjust?” She asked, obviously disappointed that he had already shifted the topic. Even if she wasn’t surprised, her father rarely spoke of her mother, when it came up he became wistful and distant, even when she was younger.
He nodded, “Merchants, politicians, and other important people will be in attendance. If you show up like that they will no doubt think that you’re just some unimportant girl that climbed down from a mountain.”
“Isn’t that what I am?” She asked, more curious what his response would be than agreeing with it.
“I’d think that's up to you. Is that who you want to be?” He asked.
“No.” She replied. She was familiar with that sort of reputation. The people down in the village, it was the way she thought of them. The kids that had ostracized her years ago because of aura sight. She didn’t want to be thought of that way, regardless of if it fit or not.
She always wondered what it would have been like if she had grown up in Synovo instead. Thinking back to Tia and Buni always made her chest tighten. Would she meet them again at Vanshimer? Would she be too late? She was the youngest of the three, and Buni was gobi, so perhaps she would have gone earlier. In truth it was all just worrying and speculation.
She pushed such thoughts aside as her father continued, “Then you should keep that in mind. Getting you a dress would go a long way for establishing appearances.”
She considered her father, even after all these years he still wore silk tunics, though his pants changed between finer leather and hide depending on what he was doing. Even now she supposed he kept up appearances in the village. Something she had never really considered, her father was nothing if not reliably consistent.
“But we might be too late to worry about that.” He offered.
“Too late?” Amanda asked, not really processing the logic.
Her father nodded, “I’ve decided that you should take the same hunting exam as the boys in the upcoming month.”
Amanda couldn’t help but widen her eyes, “Next month?”
“Yes, I spoke with Anara and Joan, and both agree that you’re better suited for it than anything else. Besides, it will be a good test for if you are ready to go to Vanshimer.”
“How so?” She asked not understanding how it had anything to do with being a magus.
“To see if you are resourceful and self sufficient enough to make the trip alone of course.” Her father noted.
“Alone?” Amanda asked, still not processing what he was saying.
“Well, you’ll ride along with a caravan, but you’ll be expected to help, and hunting and cooking is something I have no doubt you can do.” Her father continued.
“You aren't coming?” She asked, the realization finally hitting her.
“No.” he said simply.
“Why?” Amanda asked in a rush.
“I’m surprised you’d want me to come along. You spend so much time in the village, or in the woods I figured you’d have preferred leaving me behind.” Her father said, with an obvious note of pain to the words.
It stung her, yet what could she say? This was exactly what she had been trying to get, a place where she could practice without her father knowing. Without him seeing her from his room, or behind whatever wall he stood. Yet it wrenched at her insides. How could she want something so much, but have it hurt so much at the same time.
Before she could form a response he just kept on going, “Besides I think it's time you start walking your own path. It's what you’ve wanted since you were little, to be a magus I mean.” He winced slightly at his word choice, “It only makes sense that I give you proper space to pursue that goal without me watching over your shoulder.”
She sagged a little, “So what will I do?”
“I’ve saved up enough coin to cover your tuition. You’ll take that, and apply as anyone else would.” He replied.
“That's assuming that you pass the trial of course, but I have faith you’ll have no issue with that.” He said.
Amanda girt her teeth, “That's it then?”
“I’m not sure what else there would be?” Her father asked.
She wasn’t sure herself, the words had come from somewhere. Somewhere deep down perhaps she thought he knew what she was doing. Somewhere deep down she expected him to punish her for lying, for hiding everything.
Instead the moment stretched, and he gave her a smile, “Get some sleep, I doubt you’re gonna find anything else in that book that you don’t know three or four times over in anycase.” Pulling the door close he left her.
Amanda closed the book, and set it aside. She brushed a few tears from her cheeks, not sure where they were coming from. They didn’t seem related to the pit in her stomach, to any of the fear that now lingered around the edges of the room, towards any of the uncertainty she had building for what was going to happen next. Yet they were more real than any of that.
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