Emmet had thought it would be the best night of sleep he had in his life, but he had tossed and turned almost the entire night. He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, but what the message said was the last thing on his mind. What he felt the night before was an alien sensation, as what Lord Forcetti had written in ink was one thing, but what he felt was something else. Something that radiated onto the page like heat from a flame, and he could feel it as well as the lord who had written it could. And then the letter floated, it was as easy as simply thinking it so, that it was. At a few points in the night, he had taken the stone Sophia had given him and tried to make it hover in the air, but nothing came. No matter how hard he tried, he could feel nothing but the stone itself.
Emmet finally surrendered to sleep well into the night, waking up with a banging at his door before the sun was even up. Even in the dark, he recognized Sophia’s silhouette.
“Good morning, Emmet.” She said quietly, as if she were waking a child. “Sleep well?”
The familiarity of such a situation was almost enough to make him laugh. Sleep deprived, he was desperate for one more hour of rest. But after thinking of the way the old man had growled about wanting them out by sunrise he decided he wasn’t prepared for more confrontation. Sitting up, he stumbled to his feet.
“Don’t suppose you can come up with any more of those silver coins? I think a day of rest would do both of us good.” Emmet said, hoping their might be some small chance Sophia would listen to him.
“None that I am willing to part with just yet. Meet my outside when you are ready, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.
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“Ah! Here it is, I think we can stop here for a moment.” Sophia said, as she stood in the middle of a small clearing. Trees surrounded the large space of grass, and stones peppered the field. Emmet let out a sigh of relief, letting his pack fall on top of a large stone and leaning against it. They had been walking since they left Clesa hours ago, and his stomach growled as he rummaged through his pack for the rest of his dried meat. He had hardly sunk his teeth into his meal when Sophia began to speak again.
“So, how did you manage to lift the stone?” She asked, sounding almost proud. Emmet whipped around, hardly finished taking his first bite. Sophia was grinning from ear to ear, with her hands in her lap as she sat down in the grass.
“How did you know?” He asked with his mouth full of food.
“You can pick up on someone else’s weaving, once you know what to look for. Usually something so small goes overlooked, but I might have been paying extra attention last night. So, how did you manage to do it?” She asked again. “Usually it takes a week or two to even make the stone twitch!.”
Emmet froze. There were two things wrong with what she was asking: What he did last night was by no means intentional, and he didn’t lift the stone. He lifted the letter. If it weren’t for Forcetti’s instructions to destroy the letter as soon as he was done reading it, he would have simply told her the truth. That it was an accident, and he didn’t know why the letter was different from the stone. He knew that she might be able to help him understand why the letter was different and help him gain some control over himself, but he didn’t want to risk her destroying the only keepsake from his home.
“I just did what you told me to. I felt… passed the rock.” He said, surprised to see Sophia nodding along as if what he had told her made perfect sense.
“Excellent!” She exclaimed. “You seem to be a fast learner, so why don’t we move you ahead a little bit?” She asked, standing up and approaching the center of the clearing. Emmet choked on his meal, and felt sweat start to bead on his forehead.
Oh no. He thought to himself as he watched Sophia inspect the several stones around them, from the size of a chicken to the size of a small steer. She found one somewhere in the middle and tapped it a few times as if it were a prized pumpkin ready for harvest.
“Now, remember when I told you that weaving takes energy from your body? Well, smaller tasks like lifting a small stone might not take the most out of you,” she began. “But let’s say you wanted to lift something heavier. Like this boulder.” She said, gesturing to the one next to her. “A general rule of thumb is that you should not attempt anything you couldn’t do yourself. So trying to lift this boulder would put too much strain on yourself. So, what should I do?”
Emmet finished chewing his food as she finished speaking, and realized quickly this wasn’t a rhetorical question.
“Uhh…” He hesitated, thinking about what could be done. Lift one little letter and she thinks I’m an expert. He thought. “I guess you could get more people to help you.”
Sophia shrugged. “Having some help with a task is an option, but not one you will always have the luxury of. So if we want to go the extra mile on our own, we use this.” Sophia opened up a leather pouch that hung from her belt. Inside were small straps, each holding a small glass vial, one of which was empty. Sophia pulled one out and swirled around the contents to show Emmet. It looked like she had scooped up a sample of muddy water from the ground, or a dirty pond.
“And that is?” He asked.
“Atriph’s mix. I promise you, it will be one of the nastiest things you are ever going to taste, but I suggest you learn to tolerate it.” She explained. “It gives weavers a little bit of a boost, so that we can do more than normal. Observe.” Sophia uncorked the vial and brought the brim to her lips, tossing her head back and swallowed the contents in one swift gulp. Her face contorted in a cringe and Emmet could see her shudder. She looked up at him and laughed. “Twenty years and I still haven’t gotten used to this stuff.” She said. Sophia then took a moment to compose herself. She narrowed her brow in focus as she looked up at the boulder. Standing up straight, she held her arms out in front of her. Emmet watched for several moments as she seemed to struggle with lifting an invisible object.
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“Are you sure that you can–“ he said, interrupted by what he saw. The boulder, easily heavier than the two of them put together, started to wobble in place. Soon it started to shift more and more, until the earth beneath it creaked and bits of soil that were stuck to it fell as it hovered in the air. An inch, two, three, and soon Sophia had the boulder well over her head in front of her. Her arms shook and she grit her teeth so hard it looked as if they would shatter. Emmet could only watch in awe as it stayed there for several more moments, before Sophia let her arms go limp, and the boulder fell to the earth. Emmet’s ears rang at the sound of stone cracking, and he looked to Sophia as he held onto his ears. Her shoulders heaved with heavy breath, and it looked as if her legs were shaking under her robe.
“See? I wouldn’t have been able to do that on my own.” She said between breaths. Sophia sat down on the grass, and gestured for Emmet to join her.
“Are you alright?” He asked, taking a seat in front of Sophia.
“I’ll be fine.” She replied. “Lifting boulders isn’t exactly a practical use of our abilities, but it is a good demonstration for what you can do with a little help from Atriph’s mix.” Sophia reached for her pack nearby, taking out her canteen and having a long sip of it.
“What exactly is in that stuff?” Emmet asked.
“Trade secret, afraid I don’t even know the recipe.” She replied, before taking another one of the vials from her pouch and handing it to him. Emmet took it in hand, looking at the liquid inside and dreading at what it might taste like.
“Now, listen carefully.” Sophia said. “Atriph’s mix is dangerous. Weavers only take it when they are preparing to weave a spell that takes a lot out of us. You have to burn off the effects of the drink before they can fester in your body. Or take it after you expend a lot of your strength, but even that can be risky.”
“So what kind of risks are there? What does it do if you don’t burn it off?” Emmet asked.
“Well, it isn’t pretty.” Sophia replied. “Nausea, chest pains, fever, and you’ll pass out before too long. After that?” Sophia shook her head before continuing. “You’ll be lucky to wake up at all.”
Emmet felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “And you expect me to drink this stuff?” He asked in disbelief.
“You may need to, yes. But only in emergencies. Think of weaving as like exercise. If you train every day, your body will get stronger and you can do more. Run faster, lift more, and work longer. Weaving is the same way, but you may still find that you need the mixture to boost your abilities.” Sophia said, her tone as if she were trying to assure a child that the medicine they were taking was actually good for them. “Just don’t use it too much, once every few days and you shouldn’t have to worry about any long term affects.
Emmet reached out to hand the vial to Sophia as they both stood, but she shook her head.
“Oh no, you’re going to drink it.”
“What?” Emmet snapped. “I don’t think I should. I mean, lifting a boulder is a big step away from lifting a stone, what if I don’t burn it all out?”
“Oh don’t worry.” Sophia replied, waving her hand. “As long as you put all your effort into your weaving and don’t slack off, you’ll burn it all out of your body.” She said, smiling.
Emmet looked down at the flask, heart racing. He didn’t even know how he lifted the stone, or turned his body into an inferno, it just happened. He didn’t believe for a second that he could work hard enough to work all of this poison out of his body. He thought of telling her the truth, that he hadn’t lifted the stone, but he feared this would lead to her discovering the letter. He knew that he should have just destroyed it like he was asked, but he wasn’t ready to give that piece of home up. Not yet.
“Could I warm up?” He finally asked. “You know, lift something smaller first?” He asked.
Sophia nodded, still holding that excited smile. “Of course! Good idea.” She replied as Emmet put the vial in his pocket and bent over and picked a small stone, and held it in his palm.
You can do this, Emmet. He thought to himself. Just try to do what you did last night.
Emmet took a deep breath and cleared his mind the best he could. He drowned out the sound of the leaves blowing in the breeze and of the birds chirping in the branches. He pretended there was nothing else that existed in the world, except for him and this stone. He tried his best to think about how it came here, how perhaps it broke off from some larger stone centuries ago, what it might have seen. How many people had touched this stone? Countless? Was he the first? Will he be the last? He started to empathize with it as best one could with a rock, and he opened his eyes.
It was still resting in his palm.
Emmet gave a nervous chuckle when he saw Sophia looking down on him, doing a poor job of masking her disappointment.
“Is, is something the matter?” She asked.
“No! No! Everything is fine.” Emmet replied as his palms started to sweat. “I just need to concentrate.”
But just like the day before, Emmet failed to make the stone so much as wriggle. He tried again, closing his eyes and concentrating, but nothing happened. He tried staring at the stone, picturing floating in the air, but nothing happened.
“How exactly did you do it yesterday?” Sophia asked, beginning to grow impatient with Emmet’s lack of performance.
“I… I’m not really sure.” Emmet relented. It was a half truth. He may not have lifted the stone the way Sophia had instructed, but he did lift something, somehow.
Sophia had stopped trying to hold back her frustration, pinching her brow as she let out a sigh. She gave Emmet a scowl and placed her hand out in front of him. “Well how in the hell did you manage to weave last night?” She shouted, waiting for Emmet to reply. Where there was nervousness, there was no his own share of anger.
“I already told you, I don’t know!” He shouted back, tossing his hands into the air. “Didn’t you say it takes weeks to even make a rock twitch? Maybe it was just a fluke or an accident!” Emmet’s shoulders slumped as he let the frustration out of his body, and let out a quivering breath.
A silence hung between the two, until Sophia reached forward, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you afraid?” She asked, having seemed to have calmed down.
Emmet stepped back, having no desire for any physical contact. He held his tongue, unwilling to answer her question.
“Emmet, listen. I know you’re afraid of hurting people again, but you have to understand that it wasn’t your fault. Nobody knew what you were capable of, and even how you first wove was an extreme case.” She said.
Emmet crossed his arms, pacing around and avoiding eye contact.
“You’ve been given an incredible gift, even if nobody else appreciates it. Not even yourself.”
“It doesn’t feel like much of a gift.” He replied, staring down at his feet as he walked back and forth between two stones in the clearing.
“I know it is hard to see that now, but in time, things will be more clear. You just have to trust me.”
That was probably the last thing Emmet wanted to do.