*
‘That will do for today,’ Far-a-mael called back, snapping Seteal free of her thoughts. A look at the sky informed her of the time, with the sun sitting fat and orange on the horizon. Another day was on the verge of completion. Seteal had never spent so much time on horseback and was thoroughly tired of doing so.
‘That will do for today,’ Seteal’s bag croaked--or rather its inhabitant did--from its place on her lap.
‘Be quiet,’ Seteal cautioned the owl, momentarily opening her bag to reveal his feathery face in disarray. ‘You’ll get us in trouble,’ she whispered sternly before closing the bag and sliding off her horse.
‘Sorry,’ the bird replied dejectedly.
Since the previous night, not only had Seeol picked up more words and their proper usage than Seteal had anticipated, but he’d also learnt to manipulate intonation.
‘I’ll help set up the tents,’ Seteal volunteered as she passed by Far-a-mael and made her way over to El-i-miir. ‘He keeps talking,’ she hissed. ‘I’ve been struggling all day to keep him quiet, but nothing seems to work.’
‘This was your idea,’ El-i-miir replied irritably as she tied the horses to a tree.
‘No way,’ Seteal growled. ‘You’re not weaselling out of this now. You promised you’d help.’
‘Listen.’ El-i-miir turned aggressively. ‘I was more than just a little bit drunk!’
‘That’s not my problem,’ Seteal said beneath her breath as Far-a-mael passed by. ‘Can’t you do something to make him shut up?’
‘No,’ El-i-miir said firmly. ‘He has no aura. I’m powerless over him.’
‘Well, what about Far-a-mael?’ Seteal looked over at the old man, who was glancing about the clearing, scratching his head as though he’d lost something.
‘Don’t worry about him,’ El-i-miir reassured her. ‘Just keep the bird quiet and leave Gil’rei Far-a-mael to me.’
As the sun disappeared from the world, Seteal assisted El-i-miir in setting up the tents while Far-a-mael trekked into the woods alone to return later with a couple of rabbits. By now, Seteal had come to the conclusion that he was likely affiliating them into hopping right over. Suddenly his hunting skills seemed less impressive. All he had to do was bend over and pick them up.
‘Come with me,’ Far-a-mael said after they’d finished dinner. He stood up and tossed his scraps into the fire.
‘Where are we going?’ Seteal asked fearfully, having dropped some rabbit into her bag for Seeol just moments earlier.
‘If you care to go on living . . .’ Far-a-mael crossed his arms, clearly irritated by her having questioned him, ‘. . . you’ll accompany me to my tent where we can begin your lessons.’
Seteal slid her bag across the earth toward El-i-miir before warily following after Far-a-mael.
‘Sit,’ the old man said as he sat cross-legged on the floor. Seteal attempted to replicate his position, but it hurt her knees and proved to be too difficult.
‘Is it really necessary to sit like that?’ she complained, eyeing the way Far-a-mael sat with his hands face-up on his knees, thumbs and index fingers touching at the tips.
‘In the beginning, yes. You must be completely comfortable my young rei,’ he replied without opening his eyes.
‘Well I’m certainly not,’ Seteal muttered once she’d folded herself into a position that bore some resemblance to Far-a-mael’s.
‘Certainly not what?’ Far-a-mael asked, opening one eye.
‘Comfortable,’ Seteal muttered. ‘You just said . . . oh, never mind.’
The old man was making fun of her. He chuckled and opened his other eye.
‘Eventually you’ll get used to it and then you’ll find it helps in concentration.’ He frowned. ‘If you really don’t like it, though, fear not! Very soon you’ll be able to touch the Ways in whatever position you like, but for now we’ll do it like this. Now, close your eyes and open your mind.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Seteal asked abrasively.
‘If you find that too difficult, you might at least close your mouth and open your mind,’ Far-a-mael said with disdain.
‘Fine, I get it.’ Seteal shut her eyes and waited.
‘Concentrate on your breathing. Nothing else matters,’ Far-a-mael began. ‘If a thought occurs to you, accept it and let it pass without dwelling on it too much. If you deny the thought, you’ll only find it more difficult to let it go. Accept and release until nothing remains but your breathing. Feel it rush in, and out. In. Out.’
What a waste of time, Seteal moaned inwardly. Still, she had to try, didn’t she? She accepted that the training was indeed ridiculous and then released the thought. No more than a second had passed, however, before she began to worry about her father and her friends. It was no sooner than she’d dismissed these thoughts that she began to worry about leaving El-i-miir alone with Seeol. It just didn’t seem to be working.
‘You’re not having very much luck, are you, girl?’
‘How’d you know?’ Seteal opened her eyes.
‘You’re frowning,’ Far-a-mael sighed. ‘You’re unable to relax, eh?’
‘I don’t think I can,’ Seteal replied honestly. ‘I can’t stop worrying.’
‘Hmm.’ Far-a-mael tapped his chin. ‘Can you make any connections or think of any habits or thoughts that may have preceded one of your knowings in the past?’
‘Not really,’ Seteal answered impatiently. ‘It just happens.’
‘Very well. Let’s go back to relaxation.’ Far-a-mael paused, looking Seteal in the eye. ‘I could help you this time.’
Seteal knew what that meant, but again she realized there wasn’t much of a choice. She nodded and closed her eyes. A kind of calmness overwhelmed her. The feeling was somehow and yet not entirely, disconnected from herself.
As her senses dulled and her mind glazed over, Seteal soon found herself focusing on nothing more than her steady breathing. In and out. In and out.
‘Now you’re getting it,’ said the voice of an elderly man somewhere far away. ‘I want you to forget you’re breathing now. Acknowledge nothing aside from my voice.’
Seteal did as she was told. The experience was one that couldn’t be properly explained, for it in itself was the lack of information or explanation. Floating in the void of her own mind, Seteal felt disconnected from reality. The darkness behind her eyelids was tranquil and calm. There was not a bitter thought, nor a worry or concern to bother her.
A night bird shrieked somewhere outside. Having momentarily feared it was Seeol, Seteal’s control wavered. Far-a-mael steadied her and began to withdraw his support. His comforting power drifted away, leaving Seteal alone in the tranquillity of her aura. She faltered and almost lost control, but quickly drove all thought from her mind and was free once more within the empty space.
‘Excellent! Come back now,’ Far-a-mael spoke, his voice insignificant and distant. ‘I know it’s exciting the first time, but you really must return so that we can talk about your progress before taking the next step.’
Seteal felt a rush of giddying curiosity shake her bubble of control and she fell away. ‘What’d you do that for?’ she complained, opening her eyes. The curiosity had not belonged to her.
‘New reis are always so reluctant to start thinking again,’ Far-a-mael said dismissively. ‘But as enjoyable as it is not to do so, at times we all must take time to think. So, how was it?’
‘Amazing.’ Seteal couldn’t help but show her excitement. ‘Everything was so clear and yet there was nothing there to be clear. I just felt . . . free. Can Elglair do that whenever they want?’
‘Actually, anybody can.’ Far-a-mael tapped his finger thoughtfully. ‘Probably not to the same depth as us, but all the same it’s simple meditation, a practice that’s existed for thousands of years. The good news is, I only helped you at the beginning. After that, you stabilised yourself.’
‘Can I learn more?’ Seteal asked eagerly.
‘No,??
? Far-a-mael replied. ‘Go away and practice what I’ve shown you. If you need help relaxing, ask for El-i-miir’s assistance. If I feel you’re ready, we’ll take the next step tomorrow evening. From there, we’ll be able to see exactly what you’re made of.’
Seteal stood up and headed for the exit.
‘Just one more thing before you go,’ Far-a-mael called. ‘How much do you know about silts?’
‘They avoid us and we avoid them.’ Seteal turned and shrugged. ‘Old people think they’re demons or something. They’re the cause of all the whisps further south. That’s all, I think.’
‘Demons,’ Far-a-mael scoffed. ‘They are such silly old stories, aren’t they? My dear girl, silts are much, much more dangerous than the fabled demons depicted in the Holy Tome.’
‘Oh?’ Seteal responded. She was confused as to why he’d even raise such a topic. Something strange was happening. Far-a-mael was doing something to her. Seteal gasped as she felt a sharp hatred welling up inside her chest. It was not her own, but it made her feel powerful and before long she was basking in loathing, relishing its bitter taste.
‘I know you can feel it comes from me,’ Far-a-mael intoned, ‘but that doesn’t make it any less true. You’ve lived too much of your life sheltered from the knowledge of such foul creatures. It is only ignorance that prevents these feelings from being yours rather than mine. Harness them. Take them in and believe them. They are the truth. If you could only know . . . this is what you must always feel toward such creatures. Feed your hatred for the wicked, grotesque, and, yes, in many ways, demonic beings.’
Seteal’s head spun. Her fingers tingled. She could hardly see Far-a-mael’s face and became lost in her mind. The blood felt hot as it rushed by her ears. Creatures with leathery wings screamed as she hunted them. Seteal put a sword through a demon heart and laughed as its blood drained away in torrents. The repulsion she felt for the wicked creatures was second to none. Bile rose in Seteal’s throat, such was the sickness they caused her. She would cut open their pallid white flesh. She would create justice. She would kill them all. The earth would be cleansed in the blood of demons to usher in a new age of peace and security.
‘Seteal.’ The word buzzed but meant nothing. ‘Seteal?’ Far-a-mael’s face revealed his concern as the tent swam into perspective.
Seteal rubbed at her arms, suddenly feeling the cold. Had the old man been speaking? Or had it all been in her head? ‘What’d they do for you to hate them so much?’ She asked.
‘What did who do, dear?’ Far-a-mael raised his eyebrows.
‘The silts. What’d they do to you?’
‘Why in Maker’s name would you be pondering such creatures at a time like this?’ Far-a-mael’s expression was one of bewilderment.
‘I . . . ’ Seteal shook her head, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE ELGLAIR EYE