Faith In Miracles

{The Haklarans—for so they are called—are my creations. I'm ashamed of myself yet pleased that I'm not insane.}

….

They stopped and made camp along the way to Shokhi. Narene was actually pleased with the speed with which they had travelled the distance. At that rate, it would take them only one more day to arrive at the big city.

Narene—who had already used a peg to tie her horse in place—dusted her hands, looking over to see Sharen dismounting with the help of Fryssel. The slight grimace on his face made her frown. She knew—and had always known—that Sharen was a tough mage yet it made her worry that he would fake strength just to go on this mission to Shokhi.

The wound he had sustained had been very deep that she had even lost hope. Shar had proven to be a very good healer. However, the spells had done little to completely seal the wound.

"I'll fetch wood to make fire, master Sharen!" Fryssel said, his voice giving away his enthusiasm.

Narene smiled and, with a snap of her finger, the whole area lit up with bright green light, illuminating the plains in bright brilliance. "You don't need wood, Fryssel."

Sharen nodded with a look of satisfaction. "When did you cast the spell?"

Narene shrugged, pulling out her robe. "I already chanted the magical words the rest was just to fuel it with energy."

She felt impressed that she had picked that one thing from Sharen. Whether or not he had given her direct lessons, it didn't stop her from studying his ways. It was from him that she had realised that one could chant spells and use them later though with greater focus. Their fight with the Knights had made her see this technique as a life saver.

"Where did you learn such a method?" Sharen gave her a warm smile and she perked up.

"I learnt it from you. You always use spells and I often mistake them for silent casting." She said, noting the slight look of embarrassment from her teacher. She found—the more she got to know him—that he wasn't as detached as the stories made him out to be. Behind the Hero mask was a man with plain life styles.

"Master Sharen…"

"Don't call me Master," Sharen turned, cutting Fryssel off. His eyes seemed glazed. "I only saved your life by bringing you along. I'm not your master and I won't take you in as my apprentice."

"But…"

Sharen snapped his finger, making the earth squirm then formed a comfortable sandy chair for him. "You can become Narene's apprentice."

Narene felt her heart skip. Why her? Was she even qualified to teach someone? All her life she had lived with only one fantasy and that was mastering magic to the point she could slay Haklarans with a thought.

She wasn't so enthusiastic about anything else. Then, again, how could she teach Fryssel? What could she teach him? He had no magic and wasn't skilled in the art of the swords.

Contrary to her expectations, Fryssel didn't look unhappy.

….

Due to his wound, Sharen had gone to sleep earlier leaving Narene to take the first watch. She had no complaints either given that Sharen was hurt. She felt uneasy standing there, alone, with her sword drawn as she looked over the horizon.

She would have loved to study magic with her magic book but sadly, she hadn't grabbed the book before their hasty departure from Samak. She sighed, sweeping her eyes over the large expanse of sand.

A noise behind her made her turn, her sword raised. Fryssel raised his hands, giving her one of his timid smiles. Narene sighed, lowering her sword. She asked, "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I couldn't sleep," he walked up to her. "I have a lot on my mind."

Narene frowned but remained silent. "We might travel all day tomorrow. You need to rest."

Fryssel nodded. For a few minutes they stood like that, saying nothing. It was at that point that Fryssel cleared his throat, saying, "Can I ask you something…master?"

Narene nodded but noted the way the word 'master' felt heavy in his mouth. She smiled inwardly. She wasn't much of a master at anything and didn't mind if Fryssel called her by her name.

The boy sighed, scratching his head timidly—an attribute he had become accustomed to. "How did you become Master Sharen's apprentice?"

The question didn't come as a shock to Narene for she had seen the enthusiasm with which the boy used when speaking to Sharen. Yet, one thing bothered her. Why would he want to have Sharen as a teacher when he didn't have the blessings of the gods?

"I fought him." Narene had thought of the whole scenario the day Sharen had accepted her as a student. She found that she didn't really know why he had taken her in. he could've easily ignored her after that fight or just threw up an excuse yet he had changed his mind.

Fryssel seemed confused. "You fought him? How did that work?"

With a sigh, Narene turned to him. "It was just a spur of the moment. I challenged him to fight me and if I won, he'd take me in."

"I can't believe you beat him!" the boy's face glowed with ecstasy.

Narene shook her head. "I didn't beat him. He won but he took me in. I don't know why he accepted me. He had made it clear that he didn't want apprentices."

Fryssel sighed, probably wondering why his case was different. Finally he said, "Maybe because you have magic."

Narene turned to him again. "You think that he won't take you in because you don't have magic?"

Fryssel nodded. "It can only explain his reluctance. I have nothing to offer him. I'm not a good fighter or mage. I'm only a merchant's son."

"Why did you follow him, then?" Narene asked.

Fryssel shook his head. The cold air made him blow over his palms. "I guess…I have faith."

"Faith for what?"

"Sharen was never blessed by the gods when he was born yet he has magic," Fryssel said, his eyes looking at the stars that twinkled in the bright night. "I have this belief that if I spend time with him and get to know his ways of doing things then I might also get the blessings."

Narene wanted to discourage him. Aside from Sharen, no one else—at least none that she had heard of—could boast of awakening magic after birth. She stopped herself, however. She too was an anomaly.

No one had ever been born with a yellow core yet she had been born with one. Most times, she wondered what god had blessed her with such fortune.

"Miracles do happen."

Fryssel smiled at her, his eyes showing the level of resilience he had. "Miracles do happen."

Narene turned to watch the surrounding. "You should get some sleep."

Fryssel nodded but before he could take a step, loud howling and growls resounded from the nearby bushes. Then, the slight thumping in the ground made their bodies shake a bit. Narene knew what it was.

She held her sword in a tight grip. "Haklarans!"