“What was he like?” Glen’s brother asked as they watched the Archdruid lead the stranger away.
“It’s not like I had that much time to talk to him. We were fighting, after all.”
“Still, you must know more than the rest of us.”
The rest of their cohort all nodded in agreement at Leif’s claim. Glen sighed, but it wasn’t as though they were wrong. Unlike when they had all undergone their Trial together, most of the Wizard’s Trials had been done without anyone more than the singular Witness that they required. And, of course, as some of the youngest Druids in the Enclave, they were not allowed to watch even the few portions that the Archdruid had made somewhat public.
“He was strange,” Glen said, after a moment to think. Seeing his friends roll their eyes, he hurried to add, “that really is the first thing that came to mind. When I was told to face him in the ring, I will admit that I was absolutely terrified. He stood head and shoulders taller than me, and he was almost as broad shouldered as Brian.”
The other children laughed and nudged the Bear of their group. He took it good naturedly, as he did most things.
“That was a good effort to distract from what you know, but go on,” Sarah demanded, prodding him with a beam of moonlight.
Glen let out a shudder, thinking back to the way that the Wizard had stared him down. “His eyes pierced through me. They slowly shifted in color from forest green to a murky brown. For all that, he was not the slightest bit prepared to fight.”
“Obviously,” Brian cut in, “that’s why they picked you.”
The rest of their cohort joined in, ribbing Glen in return for his comment to Brian.
“That’s really all that I know,” he admitted. He looked around, and, seeing that the rest of the Druids were beginning to disperse, called the cohort into a huddle.
“This has to be his last Trial,” Glen said, and the rest of the group nodded.
It was honestly strange that they had given him so many Trials. None of them had needed more than five to find their Fundamental Understanding. Even that was more than normal. Brian had shocked his family when he had ended up joining the Circle of Swarms.
“Let’s try to get what information we can from our own Circles and then meet back at midnight to discuss what we’ve learned.”
“Who put you in charge?” Leif groused.
“I did,” Glen replied.
The two brothers stared each other down for a moment in mock severity. In the end, Glen broke first, face shifting to a smile. With that, the circle dispersed, each young Druid rushing after their mentor.
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Brian sat in the meadow, focusing his will on finding the Swarm that would become his. When he sensed his teacher draw near, he sighed and opened his eyes.
“Still no luck finding them?” she asked.
“No,” Brian replied sadly.
Just as he was the last in his cohort to find his Fundamental Understanding, Brian was well on his way to being the last in his cohort to connect to it. A small rock bounced off his shoulder, distracting him from the spiraling dread.
“Hey!” he yelped.
“What have I told you about stewing in perceived failure?” Char asked.
“Don’t do it,” Brian said. “It’s not that easy, though. I can’t just decide to be happy.”
“Not yet,” she agreed, “but you can distract yourself when you notice the pattern.”
Sensing an opportunity, Brian snatched at it. “Speaking of a distraction,” he began, watching a smile break out on his teacher’s face.
“Let me guess,” she said, “you want to know about the Trialist.”
Brian blinked back his surprise. “How did you know?”
His teacher held up her hand, showing off the dark patterns of her skin. “First, this is the first Trial since your own. Every young Druid is curious about how different they are from the other side of an Understanding. Second, he is already Bound to a Swarm, and I know you have to be interested in how he did so without being a Druid. Third, your father led a Trial for the first time since before you were born.”
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She lowered her hand, “and, of course, I overheard you talking to your cohort about trying to wheedle information out of your mentors. I’m afraid that I cannot tell you too much, though. Obviously, our Radius wants him in our Circle, if only because he has such a strange Hive. Other than that, he’s an Academy trained Republican with a recommendation from Aquam.”
“The Terror of the Sea?” Brian gasped. The Republican was more myth than man to the Druids born in the Enclave. If the stories were true, he had once bested a Sea Serpent in its own domain.
“Yes,” his teacher replied, skin flaring to yellows and reds for a moment as she did her best not to laugh at his wonder.
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Leif chased after Marigold. As her legs dissolved into the surf, his foot splashed on the shore. She turned, letting out a sigh.
“Curious about Jeb?” she asked.
So his name is Jeb, Leif noted.
“Yes,” he said, head bobbing.
“You know that I cannot break the confidentiality of a Trial.” Marigold’s legs reformed, and a chair rose out of the sea behind her. She sat on her watery throne, gazing down at Leif.
“Do you have to put on regal airs?” he whined.
“Can you form your own chair yet?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“No,” Leif muttered, looking down.
“What is the first rule of the Sea?”
“Those who cannot float must learn to swim.” Sighing, Leif swam after her as she drifted into the water. He hoped that she wouldn’t make him answer any questions while he swam.
“The Wizard has a connection to the sea,” she said when the shore disappeared. “It is not, however, his Source.”
“I don’t understand,” Leif replied, head bobbing out of the water just for a moment.
“I know,” she said, looking down at him with a sad expression. “That is why we are out here.”
She disappeared into her throne, and it rushed over him. Buried beneath the waves, Leif felt his disappointment at the lack of answers fade. After all, the Sea is a Mystery.
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“Can you tell me anything about the man I had to fight?” Glen asked his teacher as they sparred.
“What do you want to know?” he asked, delivering a painful blow to his ribs.
Gasping a little bit, Glen pushed himself back on vines. When he had recovered his breath, he shrugged. “I don’t know anything about him. Why did you say that he had failed his Trials, though? I thought the entire point of the Trial was to stress him until he found his Connection.”
“Nice use of vines for positioning,” Ivan commented, narrowly dodging the line Glen had set as a snare. “As a reward, I will answer that question. We put you all into the Trials before you become Classholders. Even though you may be consciously aware that we would not kill you, the primal part of you cannot help but try to remain alive. When pushed to a limit, you will instinctively reach out to the world around you.”
“Right,” Glen said, nodding. He saw a vine slowly growing along his own and pretended not to notice. “Why can’t you do the same with him?”
“First,” Ivan said, feinting a punch, “he already has a deep connection to Magic. When afraid for his life, he instinctively reaches for the Magics he knows. Second, however,” his vine leapt, and Glen jumped over it. He was too excited at dodging the attack that he missed the second vine, which coiled around his ankle and hoisted him up. “he is from the Republic. Republicans place a high cultural value on not failing. The Archdruid hoped that using implicit pressure might make him more receptive to the Call.”
“I understand,” Glen said.
Ivan walked away, and he sighed. How was he going to get out of the snare?
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When the children regathered at night, Sarah lit their space with moonglow. Each went around and revealed what they had learned. It painted a picture of a storybook character, more than a real flesh and blood human.
“There is no way that his cloak is actually made of midnight and starshine,” Glen said, looking at Sarah.
“My Radius swore that it was true!” she protested. “What about you, Brian? He clearly understands bees. Why isn’t he in your Circle?”
“Char assured me that he Bound them by accident.”
The group bickered long into the night, until the first rays of dawn started to glow on the horizon.
“Shoot!” a number of them exclaimed, rushing so as not to be late for their morning labors. At noon, all of their work was interrupted. The Archdruid’s voice rang out through the entire Enclave, carried on the wind and earth and sun.
“The Wizard known as Jeb will not be a Druid.” He left time for people to gasp at the statement. No one who finished a Trial did so without becoming a Druid.
“Despite this,” the Archdruid continued, cutting off any speculation, “he has demonstrated Druidic Magic.”
If the first statement had caused a spark of conversation, this one set off a bonfire. The Archdruid’s next words were lost to each Circle as people shouted their confusion. At once, everything stopped.
The very breath in every Druid’s lungs held fast, even as the clouds in the sky stopped moving. The wave about to break on the shore stopped.
“Now then,” the Archdruid spoke, voice carrying the weight of authority, “Jeb has been given my permission to learn what he can from any Circle. You are not required to offer him succor or aid, but you are allowed to. I will see you at the solstice.”
As the last sounds of his speech died out, the world started moving again. Everything seemed a little less real in the absence of the Archdruid, not that most people minded. Even as it was easier to connect to an Understanding in his presence, it was much harder to further a connection. Everything wild was called to the Archdruid, rather than any pale imitation of his.
Each Radius left their Circle, joining where they had summoned the Archdruid for the Wizard’s Trial. After a brief discussion, they agreed that the Enclave would still perform the standard celebration, despite no Circle gaining a new link. When they told the Wizard as much, he nodded, smiled, and disappeared. As each Radius let out their shock and outrage, he reappeared carrying barrels. Setting them down, he explained that they were filled with Brews and Distillates he had crafted.
The party ran well into the next day, and each of the cohort had the chance to meet the stranger cloaked in midnight and starglow.