Fire

“Are you sure it’s possible for me to use it?” Mary asked.

“I am. I would bet my lab that you have no problem using it,” Procecsa stated. For her, that saying a lot, Mary thought.

“I’m quite surprised that you haven’t figured it out yourself, Mary. You’re a top student,” Procecsa smiled.

“I have no clue what you are talking about,” Mary told her.

“Let’s see if I can’t help you get there. What are the characteristics associated with fire magic and its users? This should be easy for you to answer.”

It was, Mary thought. They have learned this the first month in basic magic.

“Power, the colour red, strength, a hot temper, anger, transformation, rebirth, passion, love, and pain,” Mary counted out.

“Does that give you a clue?” Procecsa asked, staring at Mary.

Mary thought about it for a while but found she didn’t understand at all what Procecsa hinted at.

“No, I don’t understand,” she confessed.

“When was the last time you were angry, Mary?” Procecsa asked.

“Ehm, about five minutes ago, I was angry at Tenac,“ Mary answered.

“No Mary, at best you were mildly irritated with him,” Procecsa smiled.

Mary thought about that. Procecsa was right. When was the last time she had been angry? It would have been when she received Zerden’s last letter, she thought.

“I think it has been about seven months,” Mary confessed.

“And before that?”

“I don’t remember, not in a long time,” Mary said honestly.

“I don’t know what you have gone through in your life, Mary, and I will not ask. That is not important for this conversation,” Procecsa said with a crocked smile. “But sometimes in life we need to suppress sides of our self to survive. I mean that in both a literal and figurative way.” She explained.

“Most people know certain situations require us to behave in a certain way. Let’s say that you are a farmer and are negotiating with a merchant to sell the surplus of your crops. Even if he says something that makes you angry, you won’t act on it as that would jeopardise your family’s survival,” she continued, and Mary nodded.

“Sometimes we are in such situations for so long that the instinct to suppress an emotion or behaviour becomes more or less permanent. Sometimes, this is a good thing. Like when a parent teaches a child that it is wrong to hit someone because they took your toy. In other cases, it’s a bad thing as it keeps the person from reach their full potential. Like in your case, Mary,” Procecsa said, looking at Mary.

“In my case?” Mary asked.

“For some reason, you have been conditioned to suppress your fire. Most likely not in an effort to suppress the magic, but one characteristic that goes with it. Like anger,” Procecsa said. Mary could hear that she tried to be gentle.

Mary sat quietly for a while and thought things through. Her time in the kitchen had made her put a tight lead on her emotions and especially anger, but also passion and love. It would have been the last thing she did in the castle if she had become angry with someone higher up the rank than her. Which had been most people.

“So, what do I do? Do I have to get angry at Tenac?” Mary asked, making Procecsa laugh.

“No, I don’t think he deserves it. He’s just trying to help you, after all” she smiled at Mary.

“I need to get angry at someone else?” Mary asked, confused.

“I don’t know if you need to get angry at anyone, Mary. I think it would be okay just for you to accept that it is okay for you to get angry. Just to allow yourself to experience the emotion,” Procecsa pondered.

“Okay,” Mary agreed, still not sure how she would do that.

“I know this is difficult, Mary. But at least you can work on it. No one expects results overnight. These things take time,” Procecsa said.

“I will do my best,” Mary tried to smile.

“I know you will, Mary,” Procecsa nodded.

After that, they spent some time going over the experiments they would do next week during the winter solstice and then Procecsa let Mary go.

Mary had been wanting to go back to her room and change. But she found herself going to her thinking spot. She had found it a couple of months back as she had gotten lost when walking from history class to Procecsa’s office.

It was a small corridor that led into an open area with a couple of benches. One bench was placed in front of the window, looking out over the river and the first bridge. Mary usually went here when she needed some time to think or be alone. She had seen no one else there.

She took a seat on the bench and looked out over the river. Mary started thinking back on the part of her life that she tried hard not to think about. She thought about growing up in the kitchen, about the constant fear of being dismissed.

As usual, when she thought about it, she felt uneasy. She forced herself to relive some situations that she had gone through. She got sad and uncomfortable, but not angry. Not until she noticed that whenever she remembered something, she had this initial feeling that she then shoved to the side and replaced with sadness. Was that her anger?

Slowly, Mary tried to hold on to the feeling instead of pushing it away. The more she tried, the more she realised it was anger. And boy, was she angry. She had suppressed it for so long, but it hadn’t gone away. It had just been there, festering and growing.

Mary was truly pissed as she started going through everything again. The things she had had to endure for so long made her want to scream and kick and break things. As she decided she was going to have to calm down, she saw movements in the corner of her eye, and she swerved her head in that direction.

The flames in the lamps that hung on the walls suddenly grew stronger as she glared at Tenac that had tried to sneak up, holding another komqer melon. Tenac had frozen in the middle of a step. He looked at Mary with big eyes and slowly placed the melon on the floor and took a step back with raised hands. Mary was confused. Why did Tenac look scared?

“Tenac?” she said.

“Sorry, Mary, I didn’t mean to take it too far. I’ll stop with the komqer melons,” he said, sounding overly calm.

“What are you talking about?” Mary asked.

“I didn’t mean to make you that angry,” he clarified.

“I’m not angry at you,” she said.

“Are you sure? You looked like you were about to kill me. You are seriously scarry when you are angry, Mary. I have never seen that look on you before,” he said.

“Sorry, I was just deep in thought about something else. Stop standing there like that. You’re making me uncomfortable,” she then told him.

Tenac relaxed a bit, lowered his hands, and carefully walked over to her and sat down on the bench next to her.

“Who got you so angry?” he asked, and Mary thought she saw a flash of anger on his face. It was gone so quick that she didn’t know if she had been correct.

“Memories,” she said, and tried to smile. The anger was slowly disappearing from her. She felt relieved, she didn’t like how it made her feel.

“But seriously, Mary. If you want me to stop with the komqer melons, you just have to tell me,” Tenac said, looking at her. Mary laughed.

“It’s okay Tenac, everyone keeps telling me it’s for my own good. I won’t say I enjoy it, but it’s okay. At least I have one point to my name after today,” she laughed, looking at the forgotten melon that was lying on the floor where Tenac had dropped it.

Tenac looked at it as well and laughed.

“I guess you do,” he admitted.

“All I have to do is glare at you and I will be fine,” Mary smiled.

“Yeah, that look would make armies run and hide. It will work as a self-defence any day of the week,” Tenac said, fainting a shiver.

“You are just making fun of me again” Mary smiled, but she didn’t mind it.

“I’m really not” Tenac insisted.

“If you say so. Well, it’s time for dinner. I better get going before Hinat and Firlea get worried and send for dad,” Mary said, standing up.

“I should get back to the barracks. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Tenac said.

“Yes, have Buttercup ready for me,” Mary teased.

“You will ride a new horse tomorrow,” Tenac insisted.

“No, I won’t,” Mary said.

“We’ll just have to see, I guess,” Tenac said. He waved goodbye and went on his way.

Mary shook her head. There was no way she would ride a horse that wasn’t Buttercup, she decided.