~The Market~ pg 14

Though Civyl remained bowed like Nivia, he could tell the man’s attention had turned to him. “And why are you here, Chosen of the Flame?”

Civyl didn’t know what was proper deference and suddenly wished Nivia had prepared him for this meeting in some way.  He felt silly staring at the ground and talking to his borrowed pair of boots, so he decided to just ask. “May I face my inquisitor?”

Out of the corner of his eye Nivia frowned and grew rigid, but the man let out a rumbling laugh. “Of course you may. Nivia is the last of my students to still show such formal respects for me.”

“It is a travesty, Master,” she grumbled beside him. But she lifted her head to face him when Civyl did. 

He waited expectantly without repeating his question so Civyl wasted no more of his time. “I am unable to wield the flame. Nivia believes me cursed and that you may be able to remove it.”

The man stepped closer and regarded him appraisingly. Civyl’s skin prickled under the scrutiny. “Put your hand in the flame,” he said. Civyl felt like it was a test. Instead of bending down to the fire, Civyl simply held out his hand toward the flames. Of their own volition, the flames jumped higher to encompass his hand and swirled brightly.

When Civyl looked back at him, he was frowning. “It seems you can wield the fire just fine to me. Why are you wasting my time?”

Nivia quailed at the admonition but Civyl was not deterred.  “I have not tried to wield the flame yet. It is only asking me to dance.” Master Akasha squinted at him then at Nivia who shivered under his gaze. Civyl wondered off-hand what kind of man he must be for the frank and fearless old woman he had met yesterday to cower in his presence. One that requires proof, he answered himself. With a sigh he steeled himself for the necessary. He turned to face the fire, unwilling to let the man see him cringe. “I will show you.” Civyl took a deep breath taking a few more seconds to delight in the comforting warmth that ticked his senses. In his mind’s eye, the flame took bodily form in front of him and whispered his name and rested its hand in his palm. An invitation to be whole and complete; to be one. For a moment, a precious sliver of time, Civyl forgot to be afraid. He closed his fingers around the extended hand and whispered one word. “Dance.”

The End

0 comments about this story Feed