It turns out, planning a rebellion is not easy, nor fast. Adan was really trying his best though. They had managed to talk with some of the other village heads in secret and start a sort of information gathering network. It was bare bones at the moment, but it was something. They hadn’t learned much so far, mostly that their captors had purposefully separated villages and families where possible. They didn’t have enough prisons to separate everyone, but they had enough to prevent any one group from being large enough to do exactly what Adan and his family were doing.

Turns out though, a new Grotz was something that tended to rally together the People. It was kind of shocking how fast the village heads had agreed to help once they found out. They now had people in every labor area keeping an eye on things. Some were tracking guard routes and schedules, others were documenting weapon stores and other strategic assets, and still more were learning the Rakt’s language to try to listen into conversations around them.

They had managed to identify a few key leaders of their particular prison, which was good. They had also managed to figure out that none of the other prisoners in the other prisons had the same schedules as them, which was bad. They were purposefully separated even here so no communication could happen. Frustrating, but not unsurmountable.

They had managed to smuggle in some charcoal and scrap cloth these past few weeks, and were planning to use those to spread the word that a Grotz was born, and to open communication channels with the other prisons via notes. Balam had taken over this part, as the mines were the easiest place to pass notes along through hidden crevices.

Pakal had taken over the strategic planning with the other village heads, carving secret signs into walls and flashing signals to communicate in a way no guards would be able to decipher even if caught. Honestly, Adan was starting to suspect they had done this before. He certainly felt out of his depth, that’s for sure. His part wasn’t even that hard, he was told just to practice his magic until they could hold another ritual with more people to empower him.

Patli had taken over his training, passing on the training given to her by her mother, Adan’s grandmother and the old Maman. They had to modify it a bit, lots of magic through his feet in the field or quietly at night. She had also collected more rations for him from the others so he could train harder without fear of starvation.

It was hard work, and his magic was not the most cooperative. It often flared and dripped in uncontrollable ways, often needing Adan to force it to do what he wanted. His mother was doing her best, but a Grotz’s magic was different, and needed a different hand.

“Mom, this isn’t working. You keep telling me to guide my magic, but it refuses to listen. Is there not another thing we can do?”

“Hmm, I suppose. Your grandmother always told me that your magic is living, and that it needed to be raised properly. Perhaps, in forcing yours to grow, it’s become a bit of an unruly child. Maybe we can try disciplining it?”

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Adan frowned “How exactly do I do that? I can force it by just… shoving it I suppose, like I’ve been doing. It’s hard on my body though, I can feel the channels aching when I do that.”

“Yes, that’s not ideal, we need your body as strong and healthy as possible.”

Adan’s forehead wrinkles as he thought. “Let me try something. I just need to-”

Pushing his magic through his channels again, he could feel them bulging and straining as his magic fought against him. This time though, rather than just pushing, he decided to treat it like he would a living creature. He tried to talk to it.

“Hey there magic. I know you don’t want to listen, but we need to practice so we can help our people. Can you do that for me?”

In response, his magic flared, feeling barbed and hooked as it dug into his channels. “Son of a bitch! What the hell magic!”

In anger, Adan bulged his muscles and let his emotions leak through to his magic. In response, his magic recoiled, seemingly bludgeoned by his rage, forced into submission for but a moment, fighting against his grasp and trying to wriggle away. Adan wouldn’t let it though, he was tired of his magic not listening to him, he was tired of its games.

Pressing his rage harder, he forced it into his magic in waves, sending shockwaves down his channels, beating his magic with his emotions until it finally pulled back its hooks and barbs and fell into a neat blob and passing through his channels effortlessly.

Putting his hand out, Adan raged at his magic to be flame, and flame it was. A beautiful red flame hovered above his palm, giving out immense heat. Adan moved his hand around, and watched the fire flicker softly, before pressing his hand against the wall of his mothers cell. The rock started to rapidly gain heat, getting hotter and hotter, but never melting. Instead his flame did as his earth magic had done when he first tried magic, it ate the rock itself. Not as effectively as his earth magic would have, but enough to cause the wall to become noticeably concave.

It didn’t work perfectly though. Adan’s elation at his magic finally working caused it to fight back, suddenly dripping liquid red flame to the floor, leaving a puddle of blood fire. More still trickled down his arm, the red substance eating away at the rags he was wearing much faster and more noticeable than the rock wall. Cursing, Adan cut off his magic, letting it settle back into his chest as it bubbled and writhed.

“I’m not sure what you just did, but it seems to have worked.”

Shaking his hand out and looking at his half disintegrated sleeve, Adan said “I just treated it like an unruly child, like you said. It couldn’t be reasoned with, so I punished it. It was much more obedient after that, though not without it trying to rebel for a moment.”

“I see, raised properly and traditionally like we raised you and your sister. I hadn’t expected my mothers words to be so literal, but I’m glad they were of use.”

Adan simply nodded, before trying again. And again. And again. He needed more practice. He was the Grotz, and he needed to be strong, like his sister. She always was the tougher one, raised as a true woman of the People. She wasn’t here though, so he would step up. He would be a good son. He would save his people. He had to.