He stood in front of the door. His hands were clammed up in anticipation and a chill caressed the nerves on the back of his neck. It was hard to swallow and his brain yelled. He lifted his hand, brought his arm to the door. Waited for a few moments before falling under his doubled down doubt and backed away.

Jorun paced back and forth. He wasn't exactly sure of the source of his apprehension. His mind searched for an equivalent situation and only found similarities in the preparation to one of Hernie’s lectures. This didn’t have the circumstance of a previous action to lead to this. A lecture was a consequence, this was an initiative. A different beast in its own right.

Ultimately, he was at a precipice. Looking down at a bottomless pit, and deciding if his faith accumulated to the point of a leap. Jorun arrived at a crossroads, and he had no choice other than to make one. After such a decision, he knew there was no going back, no matter what he chose. Either out of principle or forced push back. But, that wasn’t what he was concerned with. He knew that while the wind may change directions, it never backtracked.

He stopped in front of the door. Put his hand up. Breathed in and out. “Oh for the love of…” A muffled voice. “Would you just come through the door! Before Amaunator starts to rot away!” Jorun gulped, hooked the handle and opened it. Behind a large desk was a mildly frustrated Doco. Paper, a lot of paper weighed more than just its mass on the desk. “What do you want, Jorun?” His eyes didn’t linger and immediately went to read another long letter.

The bard balled his fists and pierced his nails into his skin. He took the opposite seat. A breath came and left once more. “Uhh. Mr. Doco.”

Doco’s eyes stopped, then they planted themselves onto Jorun. “Did.. did you just call me Mr. Doco?”

Sudden incertitude flashed. Jorun shooked it away quickly. “What am I supposed to call you?”

“Not a Mr. Doco. “ Eyes back onto the previous task.

The bard tried to force his previous train of thought back on track. Hesitation once again wracked his mind with the power of both uncertainty and self doubt. Jorun couldn’t quite grapple with the rapidly changing future. His plans for music and tales. Gone.. However, the turbulence inside was eased by the fact that sometimes, the wind was erratic and unpredictable. “I want you to train me.” He said. It seemed as either Doco was too focused, or Jorun said it too softly. “I want you to teach me how to fight!”

Doco stopped, looked at the bard, back at the paper and then set it down. He leaned forward, hands interlocked and covering his mouth. “Why?” Eyes thinned.

“Uh… oh.. Uhhh.”

“For adventure, to be in the stories? Just to be a hero? Is that why you want to know how to fight? Jealous of Kenan’s fame?” Judgment in his eyes and tone of voice.

“What?! No.”

“I don’t have time for this Jorun. Please close the door on your way out.” Doco started to reach for another paper.

Jorun's eyes went wide. He wasn’t sure of his emotions, but anger started to rise. Did people really see him like that? Just a kid with big dreams and fake aspirations. Trying to do anything and everything to get that little piece of attention. No. He wouldn’t stand for that.

The bard stood quickly and slammed his fist on the desk. It hurt more than he would willingly admit. Suddenly the windows in the office cracked under pressure. Their locks burst as metal whined. Wind flowed in a sudden attack, rustling papers everywhere. “I know who you are, what you have done. But you don’t have any idea of what I want

Stolen novel; please report.

“I’m young, but I’m not as naïve and stupid as you think I am. All that I wanted to do with my music is bring hope back in people's lives, a smile on their face. It was never about fame! I don’t want to learn to fight for my own ambitions, but for Kenan! He is my only friend, at this point, my brother! I’ll be damned if I sit and watch Kenan kill himself! You see it, and I see it. He has an impact larger than what I can do with sound. People haven’t had a hero to rally behind in ages. I know just as well too, while I might not be privy to the details, things are changing. More wars, more battles, more hatred. Kenan can be that legend to talk about when everything else has been lost. All I want to do is make sure he doesn't die along the way."

Silence ensued. Doco stared into Jorun, while the bard fiercely countered the gaze with his own. His outward bravada did not match his inward turmoil. As he fought the shaking of his limbs, he had to remind himself. While the wind might not be as strong as the rock, its persistence outweighed the boulder's mass.

After a few moments, the windows closed by themselves and the paper lifted back to its original position. A pressure started at the back of Joruns knee, it grew to the point of him being forced to sit down. “Kenan fights because he knows he has the power to stop the innocent from being hurt. He spills blood, not for himself, but for others. You, you want to learn how to battle for selfish reasons. All you want is to have your friend be alive. You would rather save Kenan or the mother he saved?”

Jorun surged forward, wanting to stand up. His puny muscles bulged but couldn’t move. The wind burst against a wall of unmovable telekinetic force. He relaxed, thought, and closed his eyes. Breathed in and out and opened them back up. “Your lines are blurred. He killed that orc to get revenge, his after effect is saving those citizens. He is fighting the orcs now, because they threaten me and my family. People he loves. As a consequence saves countless others” Jorun argued.

Doco laughed, and sat back. “My nephew has selfish causes. Yes. But immovable and totally selfless reasons that he even doesn’t understand. You are the opposite, Jorun. Selfish reason, selfless cause.”

“So?! He is my only friend. To be perfectly honest with you right now, I don’t give a rat's ass if you train me or not. I’ll find a way to learn.” Jorun half-yelled. Doco frowned in response, thought moved and flowed on his face.

“I think you misunderstand me. Jorun. At first, that answer was no. Yet after hearing why you wanted to learn. Well, you reminded me of a whole lot of myself. See, back when I was… in the army. I didn’t go to battle for the nation of citizens, but so the brothers around me survived. I was always behind another, because I wanted to be.” He paused. Thinking. “I made sure the enemies he didn’t see, didn’t have a chance to get close. I believe you will do much of the same.” Joruns chest started to beat in excitement and a feeling of elation started to rise. “But. You must understand, as Kenan understood, once you step on this path. There is no going back, no point of return.” Before Jorun got a word out, a piece of paper and a pen were pressed on the table before him. “Your decision will not be made to me, but to your mother. Jorun. Understand what you are writing.”

The bard felt his body be released by the magical hold. He pushed forward quickly and grabbed the pen and immediately set it on the paper. Then stopped. His muscles and thoughts froze, this time on his own accord. “But…”

“Your mother only has one son.” Doco said solemnly.

Slowly Jorun started to put the pen down. Rethinking on his position. The wind pushed against Doco’s magical force. A point gave, a window slightly opened to let way to a whisper of wind. The bard listened to it. “But she would never understand.”

“No mother ever would.”

“I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep.”

“Every son does.”

“Yet I cannot…”

“Be idle.”

“He is the way…”

“The wind travels.”

Jorun's eyes snapped up from the paper. Doco sat waiting. The bard wasn’t entirely sure who he spoke to, neither was he positive he was speaking at all. The specifics didn’t matter, his resolve was strengthened. The bard wrote on the paper. Both a reason and a cause. Followed quickly by a false oath.