Erik dawdled his way home, lost in thought as he dreamt up ways he could approach the topic of making a formal overture to Selti regarding his intentions. He knew soon he would be required to give his service to the crown. He realised full well if he truly wanted Selti’s hand, he would have to do something about it sooner rather than later, though he was unsure how to proceed. Did he ask her brothers? How could he? They were off doing their service. Should he ask Mrs Sogard? What would she say? The dilemma looped in his mind, causing him increasing agitation.

Before he knew it, he was already home. Upon entering the cottage, he saw everyone seated at the dining table, not yet eating. Venna wore a mischievous look on her face as she regarded her son. “I was getting ready to send Orn out to look for you. I started thinking when you laid eyes on Selti, you had forgotten who you were and where you lived.”

Erik’s cheeks flushed as he voiced his protests and denials. Vylder chuckled as he said, “Don’t be so embarrassed, son. We live in a small village. There isn’t anyone who hasn’t noticed. Besides, she is a lovely girl. You should strike while the iron is hot.” He grinned and winked at Erik, impressed with himself for his blacksmithing pun.

“Father, please…” said Erik with a helpless expression.

Venna chimed in, and said, “Don’t fret, Erik. We have the festival coming up soon. I will speak to Brenda, and we will arrange it all for you. All you need to concern yourself with is showing up to dance with her.” Then she popped a small piece of bread in her mouth.

Erik’s face was a mixture of mortified embarrassment, excitement, relief, and genuine gratitude for his mother.

He sat down next to Orn, and gave him the side eyes, warning him not to start. Orn’s eyebrows raised as his face became a picture of feigned innocence, belied by the mirthful twitching of the corners of his mouth, trying his hardest to stifle his smile.

The table fell quiet for a few seconds. Then, Vylder’s face split into a sly smile, as he looked straight at Erik while he lowered his usually booming voice. “Did she like her wedding gift?”

Orn snorted. Venna covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. Erik looked down, his face crestfallen. His mother finally stopped herself from laughing and turned her gaze towards Erik. “Naw, come on, son. Don’t be upset. Really, I think it’s wonderful. We’re only teasing.”

The family sat and ate together, laughing and talking, as was their usual mealtime routine. Before long, they had finished eating, and began clearing the table before returning to their respective duties. Erik and Vylder headed to the forge to continue their work, while Orn helped Venna with tidying up the table and kitchen.

Once Orn was alone with his mother, he stood wanting to speak but struggled with how to say it. Venna, ever in tune with her family’s feelings, turned and looked at him. “What’s troubling you, son?”

Orn looked down at his feet and fidgeted a little before he said in a quiet voice, “It happened again”.

“Oh? What did you do?” The question she asked was not accusatory. Rather, it was a genuine inquiry layered with equal parts curiosity and maternal concern.

After he had almost burned down his father’s forge while he was helping him and Erik, Venna had her suspicions. So she gently coaxed it out of him and had pieced together that Orn there was a possibility he was an elemental. Meaning, he can manipulate the elements.

From that day, Venna instructed Orn to avoid the forge where possible. Him potentially possessing untrained elemental abilities meant that if he applied too much thought to a process that involved an element, it could lead to accidents.

Orn thought for a few moments before he spoke. “Well, I just really wanted us to catch something so our time wasn’t wasted, so I thought about the current, and sort of thought, it would be nice if it would change directions a little bit…why are you laughing at me, mother? I’m being serious!”

Venna was struggling to stifle her laughter. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I know. It’s just the way you described it. It’s as though you asked the water politely, ‘Can you please bring the fish over?’” as she broke into fresh gales of laughter.

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Orn was trying to keep his scowl in place but gave in as he understood why his mother was laughing, and soon they were both laughing together. After a few moments, he wiped his eyes. “Since you put it that way, it sounds kind of dumb, I guess.”

Venna had recomposed herself and said, “I don’t think it’s dumb. Leaving aside your humorous explanation, it is quite impressive. The sea is a vast and powerful force. You need to understand that some of the most accomplished elementals would lose consciousness from the effort it would take to redirect that amount of water.”

“Really? Huh. I never really gave it much thought.”

“That’s precisely what I’m worried about. In just over two years, you will go off to Bosberg to be recruited into the military. Once it’s discovered that you have this ability, they will place you under the direct command of the King himself. While it is our duty as Haldermen to serve, it does not salve my heart from the thought of being separated from you. Erik can come home after five years if he wishes, but you, they will keep you. I do not blame them, for you are gifted, but I can hardly bear it.”

Her eyes welled up as her thoughts turned to the day her sons would leave. Venna was a stern, rational woman who, outside of joy and laughter, rarely showed anything less than iron resolve. But she was still merely human, and Orn was her youngest. She momentarily lost her façade as her eyes welled up with tears and her voice momentarily broke.

With the incident at the forge, and now this, Venna had her first suspicion confirmed- that he is indeed an elemental. Now she had a second suspicion- that he was potentially a very rare and powerful one. Elementals were required to apprentice under an elemental mage. This ensured they received instruction on controlling their ability from the moment it became known that they possessed an aptitude, regardless of age. Without instruction, their ability could be extremely dangerous.

She loved both her sons dearly, and despite the requirement of service, had hoped that they would both return to her. With Orn’s ability, she knew in her heart that once he left to serve, she would rarely, if ever, get to see him from after that.

Orn was a little taken aback by his mother’s rare display of anguish, and he could feel a lump in his throat as the tears came unbidden to his own eyes. He lurched forward, wrapping his mother in a tight embrace, and said, “It’s all right, Mother. We still have two years. And if I am as strong as you say, I will come see you often. Who will stop me?”

He pulled back to ensure she could see his smile. She smiled in return and hugged him tightly again. Then Venna untangled herself from the embrace, swiped the tears from her cheeks. “All right, son. Let’s get this place tidied up and get in some sword and shield practice before I have to get started on dinner. We can’t let those lovely perch go to waste.”

Blessed with lightening reflexes, and astonishing hand-eye coordination, Orn had already shown a natural affinity for sword and shield. Whereas Erik favoured his father in terms of strength, and so begun learning how to wield his hammer. While nowhere near being Vylder’s rival, he could wield a hammer with a speed almost equal to a reasonably competent swordsman.

The Halder people, in terms of military, are one country. When Halder boys reached the age of sixteen, they reported to their local jarl, who sent him on to a training camp. After receiving some basic combat skills training, he’d get assigned as a crew member on a longship, where he would gradually improve by learning from the older boys.

If they distinguished themselves or proved to have additional skills, such as horsemanship or yeomanry, then they would have opportunities such as selection for the royal guard, or cavalry. But they are always sailors first. When they turned twenty-one, they could leave the Halder military, or they could volunteer to continue serving.

Venna, as a former shield maiden, knew this, and so resolved to keep it between herself and Orn until it was time for him to serve. She knew it was selfish, but he was her youngest, her baby, and she wanted to hang on to him as long as she could. At sixteen, he would leave regardless, so she wanted to keep him home to prepare him as much as possible. As a member of the Royal Guard, she also knew the politics of court and wanted to prepare him for them.

Once they had set up the area of the yard, she started, as was usual, with drills. “All right, son, stand at the ready.” Orn did as instructed. She yanked his shield and pushed him to check his grip and balance. Then she checked his grip on the wooden practice sword. “Good. Let’s begin. We’ll start at half speed.”

The sound of wood clacking, punctuated by the occasional thump of shield strikes, resounded throughout the yard. Back and forth, they lunged, dodged, and circled.

Over his mother’s shoulder, Orn saw what he thought was a blond girl with flowers in her hair, peeking out from behind a tree. His loss of focus caused a slight drop in his guard, and Venna’s wooden sword tapped him on the head. “Pay attention, Orn! When you’re in the fight, you can’t lose your concentration.”

“But I saw someone over there, behind that tree.”

Venna looked over her shoulder to where Orn pointed, but there was nobody there. “Seriously, Orn. Even if someone was there, never drop your guard, all right? It’s important. It can cost you your life. Now, again!”