The docks area of Fludavera was a flurry of activity. Workers loaded cargo, carts, spare weapons and equipment, and horses into knarrs, which are ships with a wider beam for transporting. The majority of the huscarls went onto longships.

When each ship left its berth, a horn would blast a long, melancholy sound. Following this, a slow, measured drumbeat, with low voices chanting musically in time to match the rhythm of the rowers.

The process took the better part of the day, and it was mid-afternoon before the last ship slipped its moorings, blasted its horn, and with that same melancholy-sounding music, headed southeast out to sea.

Venna looked out over the southern horizon from her position next to the mast and whispered to herself. “I’m coming, husband. May the Gods keep you until then.”

Orn and Erik were manning an oar each. They were both sturdy boys, and they were keen to try, and so Venna allowed it. She figured it was better they started learning now. The men happily let the boys row. It meant more rest for the ship’s crew as the men rotated through.

Unfortunately for Orn, his hands blistered easier than his brother’s. Erik’s hands had hardened with callouses from the six years he spent helping their father in the forge. However, Orn, being a stubborn boy, wouldn’t let Erik show him up before the men.

They rowed for a long time. As they faced a headwind, they could not use the sail until they cleared the Holvelan Gulf. This meant for the next two days, it was a matter of making their best speed by oar.

The journey continued thus for another day. They eventually passed the eastern headland, and the Holvelan coast fell away. They came about and now had the wind at their starboard-stern quarter.

After unfurling their sails, the small fleet of ships gradually picked up speed, heading to Bosberg. Once there, they planned to allow the horses time to move around. They also needed to resupply before continuing to Raugus.

Now that the ship was under sail, Orn’s lessons could begin in earnest. From then on, Orn spent most of his downtime studying with Gereld.

The exercises Gereld had him practise mostly involved maintaining a droplet of water in stasis between his hands. Gradually, he working his way up to a fist-sized ball of water.

His third attempt at holding a larger ball steady resulted in it wobbling and distorting until it lost shape completely and splashed the deck between his feet.

In frustration, Orn pined, “What is the point of this? Can we not just move on to something else?”

“Ah, the intemperance of youth. No, Orn, we cannot. The point is learning to do this without having to focus on it. You’ve felt firsthand what happens with undisciplined minds that flail about with power far beyond what most mortals can control.”

Orn exhaled a blast of his frustration sharply through his nose.

To emphasise his point, Gereld summoned a ball of water the size of his head, and another, and kept summoning more than he continued to lecture, “If you can maintain control, without the requirement of focusing, you can apply the elements you have control over without concern for distractions.”

Gradually, Gereld had several dozen water spheres of various sizes orbiting around him at different speeds. Yet still, he continued talking as though someone else was controlling them, “For example, if you’re under attack, and you can control air, you won’t get distracted as you create a focused updraft to blow enemy arrows up and away from you.”

The balls surrounding him elongated and then froze into spears of ice, which he then sent shooting into the water, then said, “With bigger tasks, you will have the mental focus to channel exactly what you need to get the task done. A focused continuous blast of air to push a sail, instead of a gale that could level a forest, a slipstream current instead of a giant wave. These will achieve the same as what you did, and it won’t half kill you. Not to mention you can sustain it for days.”

Orn looked sullen. He knew he was being silly and was trying to hide his embarrassment. In a quiet voice, he finally said, “Sorry, master.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“No need for sorry, just do what is required of you…or do not and learn nothing. It is up to you.”

Orn nodded and then went back to focusing, and collected a perfect, small sphere of water roughly the size of an egg.

As Orn was concentrating, Gereld said quietly while subtly pointing to his nostril, “You might want to…er… you have a little something on your…” and trailed off.

The water Orn had gathered splashed all over his lap, as Gereld turned away and snorted, trying to stifle his laugh. Orn glared at the back of his head, wiped his nose roughly, and then went back to concentrating.

After some time, Orn stopped manipulating water, and looked at Gereld, who returned Orn’s gaze and then asked, “Yes? What is it?”

“Why am I like this? Why can’t any of my family do these things?” Orn asked.

“A fair question. From what I know, when we are born, all the Gods look upon us. No one really knows why, but sometimes one of the Gods takes a particular interest a person’s life.”

“So it’s just random, then?”

“Well, no. It may seem that way, but the ways of the Gods are known only to them. They don’t keep council with us.” Gereld chuckled lightly. “Most people have to work hard in life to draw the notice of the Gods for when they finish their time in the world. On the rare occasion, a God chooses sooner.”

He continued, “The nature of the God that chooses the person determines the element they can manipulate. Freidig is a true mother, so she doesn’t play favourites. I have never heard of someone being able to manipulate earth. It’s just as well because that could destroy the world.”

“So Durren is for water, right?”

“No.” Gereld replied as he chuckled softly. “You would think so. He is known as the God of the sea, after all. But his affinity is air. He loves the ocean because there are no obstacles in the way of his favourite thing. It is why he is the God of those men who love life on the sea, those who sail.”

“So which God is for water, then?”

“That would be Briga.”

Orn thought about it and remembered Gelder’s sermons. He felt an intense, momentary pang of sadness as he remembered him, and then nodded, and said, “Ah, that actually makes sense. Briga is always shedding tears.”

At that, Gereld beamed at Orn. “I am glad to see that you can reason, boy. Well done. Now that leaves Myim and Everrin. Myin is fire, I mean, it’s obvious. He’s affiliated with war and passion. He is also the God of the forge and favoured by smiths.”

“So, what does Everrin do? Is there another element?”

“That’s a good question. I mean, he represents knowledge, life, death, light, and darkness. Healing is associated with light, and Everrin tends to gravitate toward scholarly people. Which is why healers are nearly always priests.”

“I don’t know. I mean, Gelder was kind of smart, I guess. But I saw him drinking with the village men way more than I saw him reading.”

This caused Gereld to laugh out loud, as he said, “I should very much like to meet this Gelder. I think we would get along well.”

A sorrowful look clouded Orn’s face as he responded, “He’s gone. They killed him when they took Father.”

“Oh...” Gereld sighed as a look of genuine sympathy creased his features, and he placed a consoling hand on Orn’s shoulder, then he softly said, “I’m terribly sorry lad.”

There was an awkward silence for a short while, then Orn cleared his throat and asked, “So, what can you do? I’ve seen you use water. But what else?”

“Oh, I can manipulate water, and I can use light. Hence, I was able to heal the bleeding in your brain.”

“But you’re not a priest.”

“I said nearly all healers, with the emphasis on ‘nearly’, but not all.”

“Oh.”

“From what I have learned of you, Orn, you can manipulate fire, air, and water that we know. I am curious to see if you can use light. But we shall look at that another time. I think that’s enough for today.”

“Just one more thing. You said before that you fixed my brain bleeding. How do you know? You didn’t open my head, and I wasn’t leaking.”

Gereld’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He laughed and then replied, “What a question! Well done. Not a lot surprises me these days, so well done for that.”

He laughed some more, and then explained, “I have studied many people after they have died to see how a body functions. I had the rare opportunity to examine the body of an individual who died while using an element.” He paused as he thought for a moment.

He then continued, “I opened up his skull to examine it and found that many of the major blood vessels in his brain had ruptured and leaked a large volume of blood into the brain tissue. From what I could deduce, the bleeding disrupted the connection between his spirit and his body.”

“But I thought the spirit was in the heart.”

“That is a common misconception. You see, our ability to manipulate elements comes from our thoughts, and thoughts happen in the brain. It is the Gods’ interaction with our spirit that enables us to use our thoughts to control an element. Ergo, the spirit is in the brain. Well, that is my theory, at any rate.”

“Ah, I see. Since you put it that way, it does kind of make sense. Well, I’m going to grab something to eat. Do you want something?”

“Thank you, but no. I am fine for now. You go.”

Orn moved toward the mast where lunch was being handed out and then went towards the bow to look out ahead. As he ate his bread and cheese, he watched as the dolphins swam and leapt in front of the ship. They jumped and flipped out of the water as if to show off to these strange beings carried on an even stranger whale.

As he sat there enjoying the impromptu show, in the water he saw a streak of silver light out of the corner of his eye, but as soon as he looked at it, it was gone beneath the surface. As his eyes traced the surface of the water, he could see the smudge of a coastline in the distance. His homeland, the island of Sofjorland.