Ishula and Skyrae were waiting for him as he ran back to the cave. They had been expecting him for his next lesson, and he was several hours late. He dashed straight passed them before they could speak and around to the spring. He quickly washed the tears from his face, then drank deeply of the chill water.

His two tutors were standing shoulder to shoulder when he finally emerged. He knew what they were going to say, so he spoke first. “I got lost, nothing to worry about! These hills all look the same.” He didn’t like lying, but if taken individually both statements could have been true. The hills were all very similar and he had been lost, mentally at least.

Skyrae spoke first. “We were worried. It’s not like you to be gone so long.”

Ishula added. “So, you must tell us if you are going somewhere. It is also bad manners to be late, and an apology is the minimal requirement in these circumstances.”

Gryph looked at the ground. “Sorry, I ran further on, I reached the oak tree, the one on the far hill. Then things went wrong.” Again, all true.

“Well, that is good. So now you are here we can begin, although it will be a short lesson, with the light fading soon. But I suspect you will apply yourself with vigour.” Ishula hinted.

Gryph did so, and that night, despite his mind being in turmoil, he slept like a log.

The next morning, and for several days after, Gryph ran to the oak tree as usual, managing to get there without stopping. Now, instead of increasing the distance, he was increasing his speed. He avoided Kayelyn’s cottage, although once he saw her feeding the chickens, and was sure she saw him. She didn’t call to him, and he didn’t look twice at her. On the return leg of his training run, he watched eagerly for any sign of the mage but saw nothing. It was true he was avoiding her, but he didn’t want her to avoid him.

That afternoon he tried to put her out of his mind, concentrating on the complex moves Skyrae had him practising. They were still using the quarter staffs, but Gryph was beginning to warm to the weapon. It was quite effective, and he was becoming comfortable with its use.

“Tomorrow, I think we can move on to something a bit more lethal,” Skyrae said. Gryph suspected she was trying to ruin his concentration, and was proved right when she suddenly shifted her grip and swung the length of wood at his feet. But Gryph had been expecting something and jumped over the staff, then brought his own down towards Skyrae’s head. Of course, she easily recovered and blocked his attack, although she couldn’t keep a grin off her face. Ishula too, stood watching from the shade of a tree, nodded his approval. Ishula had been increasingly quiet over the last several days, keeping to himself and out of their way.

“Who’s Marsa?” Skyrae asked in that sudden way of hers.

Gryph stopped suddenly, the quarter staff halting mid-swing and slowly sinking to the ground. His eyes brimmed with tears he desperately tried to hold back. A flame of anger blossomed in his stomach. Beads of sweat burst anew on his forehead.

Skyrae stepped back a pace, holding her quarterstaff ready to defend herself. “You were talking in your sleep, last night, you were talking to Marsa, I just wondered who she was.”

“Shut up!” Gryph yelled, “Just shut your mouth!” He threw his staff at her and bolted, the tears rolling down his face, mixing with sweat. Voices called out to him as he headed for the trees, but the blood pumping in his ears drowned them out. He didn’t care anyway, how could they just casually play with his feelings like that? She knew he was sensitive about his past, how could she stir up his emotions just for the sake of a bit of training?

On he ran, mindless of the branches that whipped his face and the creatures that fled in the wake of his headlong flight. With his new won fitness, he soon reached Kayelyn’s cottage. He had purposely aimed this way, after all. he had nowhere else to go, but now found himself reluctant to face her. He slowed to a walk, went past the door and around the side where the chicken pen was. Kayelyn wasn’t there, neither was she in the coppice or tending her small vegetable patch. Once around the cottage he went, then once again, looking into both small windows as he went by. There was no sign of her.

At last he stopped pacing and dropped down onto the doorstep, hanging his head and letting the tears and sweat drip from his nose. He had made quite a puddle when he heard movement. Looking up, he saw Kayelyn appearing through the trees, carrying a large and obviously full water skin. She stopped several paces away, but didn’t look at all worried. “Well, I wondered when I’d see you again. Been running again?” She moved closer, the water skin glugging on her shoulder. Gryph stood to let her into the house. As she was about to pass she stopped, looking closely at his face. “That’s not all sweat is it?”

Gryph shook his head.

“Come in and sit down in the shade, I’ll give you some water. And next time you can fetch it, big strong lad like yourself.”

Gryph reluctantly entered and sat on a chair by the small table. He knew what was coming next. Questions.

Kayelyn emptied the water into a barrel she kept beside the sink, then drew off two mugs full from the tap at the bottom. She placed them both on the table and sat opposite Gryph. He picked up a mug and began to sip at the water.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

He shook his head.

“It helps, telling someone. They can often see things in a way you can’t, being uninvolved.” Her voice was low, smooth. “Sort of a different perspective. If you know what perspective is?”

Gryph remained silent. He thought at first she was using magic to make him talk, but there was no compulsion in his head, just her soft voice. When he had kept quiet long enough to convince himself no power was being used, he took a deep drink, then began to speak.

“It was about Marsa.” His stomach tightened.

“Oh?” Kayelyn kept her voice low, and calm. “Who’s Marsa?”

“She’s…was, my friend, my mother really, or the nearest thing to it.” Tears welled again. He wiped them away on his sleeve. “She’s dead, they killed her.”

“Who, the people you are with?”

“No, back at the castle. They made her run the laps, around the castle. She wouldn’t run, so they let the shadowhounds out. Still, she wouldn’t run, and the hounds killed her. They laughed, all of them, called her stupid. Then they put me in the guest tower.” The lid on the jar slammed shut. That was enough for now, more than he had planned. He sat upright, wiped his face again and finished his water.

Kayelyn didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, she leaned over and squeezed his hand. “Have some more water, and there’s an egg or two, just boiled them.”

“The chickens,” Gryph mumbled belatedly. “You’ve got some eggs?”

“Yes, two yesterday and two today.” She said proudly. “I was going to let them hatch, but I couldn’t resist. They’ll soon lay more. I’ve a feeling I’m going to be building a bigger cage soon.”

“I’ll help. And fetch your water, if you’ll teach me magic.”

Kayelyn turned to face him, a half-shelled egg in her hand. “I’m not sure I should, after the other day.”

“You don’t want me going around doing that again do you?” Gryph warned.

“No, I suppose not.” She was thoughtful for a while. Then she sat, handing a large boiled egg to him, whilst biting into another. “Tell you what,” she said between mouthfuls, “I’ll teach you if you do my chores. Like you said, fetch the water, feed the chickens, fetch firewood and build a new pen when we need it. I’ll do what I can with you, but if you don’t get control we’ll have to stop. Deal?”

Gryph smiled slightly. He was going to be doing a lot of chores. “Deal.”

“So, you show up here, after middleday, I’m a mage and we need our rest, and do whatever needs doing, then we can start on a few basics.”

Gryph fell silent again. He had hoped he could stay with Kayelyn, but realised it wasn’t practical. With one hand he felt the small lump under his shirt that was the silver coin, the one he had found in another life. Besides, he needed to learn both skills. With a little alteration to his day, he could rise early, do Skyrae’s chores, then train with her. Then after middleday, he could tell Skyrae he was running, come over to Kayelyn’s and do her chores and train here. Then he could run later, in the evenings. It was summer and the days were long, so no problem there. And he didn’t need much sleep, being used to not getting much. Yes, it could work. He’d be a warrior and a mage, and no one could touch him then.

Kayelyn’s voice brought him back. “Hello!”

“Sorry. I was thinking.”

“Well whatever it was think it again, I thought I saw a bit of a smile there.”

Gryph stood. “I’d better go. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting. I hope you’re a bit more cheerful, it will help.”

“I’ll try.” Gryph walked out and headed back to Skyrae’s. He didn’t know what he was going to say. Probably best if he said nothing, they were used to that anyway.

Sure enough, when he returned home Ishula and Skyrae welcomed him back, fed him and gave him some of the fruity drink. They seemed to have something to tell him, but were skirting around it, talking about inconsequential things. Finally, with all the food gone and the tankards empty, Ishula got down to business.

“So. As you know, when I brought you here I told you I couldn’t stay. I have to go home, back to my own country. The time to leave is now. If I leave it too late I may miss the knowledge-gathering ceremonies. With the new moon, I’ll be on my way.”

“That’s only a few days.” Gryph moaned, suddenly realising, that despite his other feelings, he would miss the man.

“Eight, to be exact. If I could stay I would, but I have other commitments, and to be honest, I think it best for both of us if I leave. However, I have some gifts for you before I go. I have arranged some extra tuition for you.”

Gryph almost said he had made his own arrangements, but stopped himself in time.

“There is an old lady, she lives a few minutes walk away, south and west. I’ll take you, to show you the way. She is a fine woman, worldly wise and has much knowledge. She has agreed to teach you your letters and numbers and a few other things as become obvious. No, I know what you’re going to say.” Ishula held up his hands as Gryph was about to defend his literary and numeracy skills. “But from what I’ve seen and heard, you would benefit from a little reminder.

“And don’t worry, you won’t have to do any chores, it’s all been settled.”

Gryph was relieved at that news, but still wondered when he could fit that into his day. There was no chance he was going to give up the mage training just for a few hours reading useless old books.

“And so, there is one more thing. As I am returning home and can get more there.” Ishula reached down beside him and produced his bo sticks. “These I will leave for you, in the hope you will master the art and put them to good use.”

Gryph was touched. “But, how are you going to get home?” He stuttered.

Skyrae and Ishula laughed.

“No, you know what I mean, what if you are attacked?”

“Fear not, my friend. I have this fine new pair, crafted for me by Skyrae’s own fair hands, and made from good solid oak. Not as hard as our own wood of course, but close enough, certainly enough to see me home safe.”

Gryph picked up the sticks and examined them closely. There was a fine and very dense grain pattern to the wood, a reddish brown and black, highly polished and very well cared for. Along the length, particularly at the ends there were various dints, and a few scratches, but no notches. He doubted he would ever be as good as Ishula, but he vowed to do his best and make the man proud. “I have nothing to give in return, I own very little…”

“No, don’t worry, you are my friend, and these things I give freely. I ask nothing in return other than two vows. One that you continue all of your studies with the vigour you have shown so far, and two, that should you see someone in need and are able to help, you will give that help freely, as I gave freely to you.”

“You have my word,” Gryph said, almost reaching out to touch Ishula, but didn’t quite make it. There was an awkward silence, again broken by the small man.

“So, come. Now is a good time to introduce you to your new tutor.”

They all stood at once, Ishula grabbing his pack which now contained two new bo sticks. They did indeed look good, but the grain was noticeably coarser. He would have to be careful they didn’t break on first use. But Gryph put that worry out of his head, he’d seen the man fight with just his fingertips.

Skyrae stayed behind whilst Ishula led the way to his new tutor’s house. Gryph immediately suspected an ulterior motive, and he was right. The small man headed west, passed a couple of hills, then turned south, following a narrow valley formed by the ends of several long mounds. Once out of sight of Skyrae’s, he began to speak.

“Gryph. You are my friend, yes?”

“Yes.” Gryph nodded.

“So, I too am your friend, and as such I feel I must give some advice. I have noticed, as would anyone, that any mention of your former life causes a large amount of emotion in you.”

Gryph nodded again but had clamped up.

“See, as now. But I must warn you, carrying this anger with you is no good. You must release it, you must face it and learn to control it. You say you wish to be a warrior, yet a warrior who lets anger be his guide is lost. You will make mistakes, errors that will cost you your life. Please, if not me, then Skyrae, or anyone, talk to somebody. That is the first step. You do not have to reveal anything you don’t want to. Take it slowly. But release it you must.” He glanced at Gryph.

Gryph’s hands were squeezed into tight fists. His heart raced again, he felt a hot flush pulse through his body. “You are right, but not now. I’m not ready yet.”

“Good, that is well. But do not wait too long.

“Now, see that fallen tree that is yet still alive? Below is the house of your new tutor.”

They completed the journey in silence.

The pair stood before a wide log cabin, fronting a cave much like Skyrae’s, but twice the size. There was real glass in the windows and purple curtains on the inside. Sat on the low veranda, swinging in a chair slung from the roof, was an old woman. She stood as they approached and moved over to a small gate, limping as she walked, but spry enough. “Salutations my friend Ishula. I see you have brought along the young man whom I’m to teach.”

“Hello Tundy, this is Gryph, the one I told you about. Gryph, this is Tundy Rishal, a most remarkable woman who has travelled extensively.”

“Greetings and salutations young Gryph. I hope you are ready to learn, It is long since I taught properly, but I’m sure I will have forgotten nothing of my old methods.”

Gryph didn’t like the twinkle in her eye as she said that, remembering all the things the children who had gone to the royal tutor had told him. He too was in the jar and the thought of him made Gryph flush again, his hands once more knotting into fists. Ishula noticed of course, and tried to reassure him. “Come Gryph, this is part of your future, not your past.”

Once again Gryph was indebted to the small man’s wisdom, as the anger quickly faded. He consciously straightened his hands and wiped the sweat- slick palms on his leggings.

Tundy unbolted and swung open the gate. Gryph wondered what purpose it served, as it was too low and too flimsy to keep much out, but he said nothing. Up close, he began to notice that Tundy wasn’t all there. First he spotted the missing finger on her left hand, then that half of her right index finger was gone, the stump healed but ragged. There were scars too; a thin white line from left temple to chin, a wider scar of about a thumb’s length on her forehead, and a puckered circle on her neck. He supposed there were others, and predicted he would get to hear about them, probably several times. Her eyes two were mismatched. The right one was a normal grey, but the left was faded, milky, and had a very small centre.

“Come, sit, and we will discuss the arrangements. Your friend here has told me all about you Gryph, at least as much as he knows, which is scant. But I’m sure we will get to know one another better, you and I. Teacher and pupil often become close.” Tundy ushered them over to a table and four chairs at the opposite end of the veranda to the swinging chair. “I have a herbal brew inside, or would you prefer a cold drink? The water from my spring is almost icy, even at this time of year.”

“The herbal will be most welcome thank you,” Ishula said.

“Yes, thank you,” Gryph mumbled when Tundy made no move.

She limped inside and soon returned with a small pot with a spout on it and three of the smallest cups Gryph had ever seen. The old woman poured a green liquid into each, then sat herself down.

Ishula and Tundy began to speak about what Gryph needed to learn. He was supposed to be involved, and indeed they frequently looked to him as if seeking his approval. He nodded when it seemed appropriate, but was otherwise uninterested. He wasn’t really keen on wasting time here when he had magic and warrior skills to learn.

The herbal drink though was one of the best things he had ever tasted, and he would certainly return for more. It had a minty flavour, like the stuff Marsa used to grow in the small walled garden. But there was something else too, an after-taste, fruit for sure, but he didn’t think he had ever had it before.

“So, “ Ishula said, “It is agreed, each evening, you will attend here to Tundy’s, and she will teach you reading, writing and mathematics, what you would call sums. When she is satisfied, and if you are in mutual agreement, she may move on to other things. History, geography and alchemy. Other languages perhaps. Is this acceptable?”

“Yes,” Gryph agreed. It meant he would have to cut out his running, but he was sure all the chores would keep him active enough. And he could always run between the three teachers.

Ishula then took his leave, promising to visit Tundy before he set out on his journey home. His new tutor bade Gryph stay awhile, to get to know each other better and so she could gauge the level of Gryph’s learning.

Of course, it was Tundy who did the majority of the talking, but she never asked Gryph any questions about his past. She showed him books and scrolls of both numbers and letters, strange diagrams of machines and ancient tomes written in old languages, most of which she could read.

Much of the time she spoke of herself. It turned out her full name was Urtundeenia Rishal, born into a family of fruit farmers of some repute. She had been a tutor when younger, to a merchant’s eight children. His wife had died and he was forced to take them with him on his trading visits across the land and beyond and had thus been in need of a tutor and nanny. It was during one of these trips that her ‘adventures’ as she called them, began. She didn’t go into much detail, but it seemed she had suffered greatly at the hands of various pirates and slave traders, before finally ending up here. She had had more than enough excitement and had vowed never to leave this place, and indeed rarely even left the house. Which explained to Gryph why it was so big.

But she had picked up a vast amount of knowledge of the world and the people in it, and even now travellers stopped by to tell her the latest news of the world outside. It seemed she was much respected around here, and there were many who came this way especially to exchange their learning with hers.

Occasionally, she would tell Gryph something about herself, then leave a pause in the conversation. Gryph never filled any of the pauses. He was mindful of what Ishula had said but was unable to let go just yet. He feared that once the lid was off the jar, he would never get it back on. No, he would gain more confidence first, apply himself to all of his lessons and see how things went. There was plenty of time. And no need to rush into such deeds as he contemplated.

As the sun began to lower, Gryph thanked Tundy for her time and agreed to return the following evening. He had stayed longer than he had planned, mainly because she was an interesting woman, and hadn’t once mentioned her scars. He did want to get back before dark though, just so he didn’t get lost, he told himself, not because he hated the dark. As he left, the sound of a bolt being thrown connected two thoughts in his head. He had a jar, Tundy had a gate.

The next morning he arose bright and early, not before Skyrae, who he was sure stayed up all night sometimes. Then began his daily routine. Chores for Skyrae, chopping wood, fetching water, sweeping the cave, peeling various roots and fruits and plucking and skinning everything from squirrels to tree goats and small birds to large geese. The excess was smoked or dried or pickled or in some way preserved. Winters weren’t harsh here, but Skyrae liked to be prepared, especially now she had two mouths to feed.

Afterwards, it was out to the front of the house to practice arms. True to her word, Skyrae had produced two daggers and went through the motions of knife fighting, although they sparred with wooden blades of the same size. Gryph found it a completely different skill to quarterstaff work, having to get much closer to his opponent. He wasn’t sure if he liked this, but at least he could look closer into their eyes.

When Skyrae gave him leave, he would run off, ostensibly to his training exercises, but in fact to Kayelyn’s cottage. There he would do more chores, chopping wood again, feeding the chickens, cutting weeds in the vegetable patch, and fetching water from a small stream beyond the coppice. She didn’t drink from the pond, she informed him, because water birds often drank there, and of course left their droppings behind. Training in the magical arts followed. Kayelyn set up a couple of logs for them to sit on near to the burnt circle. The mage showed him a trick wherein she produced a little spark of lightning between her finger and thumb. It was a tiny spark, but she thought it better to start small to avoid a repetition of his first attempt. Nevertheless, Kayelyn always had him turn around when he practised, so he was facing away from her and the cottage.

Gryph actually laughed the first time he managed to produce a spark, and was soon doing it with both hands. Steadily, he lengthened the gap until he was making lightning between his hands as wide apart as his shoulders. Kayelyn then moved him on to other things; putting out candles and knocking over stones. She decided to wait a while before having him produce another fireball.

When this lesson was over, off he went at a fast run to Tundy’s to study with her a while. All of his tutors were pleased with his attitude and his progress. Kayelyn and Tundy were particularly pleased with the way he arrived at a run, and always had plenty of food to sate his perpetual hunger.

The last few days of Ishula’s stay were soon gone. It was time for farewells.

Gryph stayed with Ishula that day, having warned Kayelyn and Tundy he would be absent, neither questioned him, but Kayelyn seemed more concerned than Tundy.

Ishula and Gryph walked the hills most of the morning, Ishula reciting a long list of things that Gryph was to remember to do, or not do. He bade Gryph care and respect his tutors, and to continue as he had been. Also, he warned him again about keeping his feelings within, and Gryph told him he was working on it.

The afternoon they spent sparing with the bo sticks. Ishula and Gryph, Ishula and Skyrae, Skyrae and Gryph against Ishula. It was mostly light-hearted but still instructive. But the blight of time encroached on their day, and soon the sky began to darken. They talked long into the night around the large fire in the main cave. Even Gryph joined in some of the conversations, asking questions about Ishula’s homeland and telling of his desire to travel. Too soon, even the extended night was gone and to everyone’s surprise, the sky was lightening in the east.

Gryph tried to persuade Ishula to stay another day, as he hadn’t slept. The small man insisted he had delayed enough and was determined to leave. Skyrae and Gryph escorted him through the settlement and right to the edge of the marsh. The warrior was brimming with tears but managed to keep a smile on her face.

The last thing Ishula said to Gryph was, “Remember what you have vowed.”

Then he was gone. They waved him off and carried on waving even when he was out of sight. They waited, just in case he changed his mind and came back. When it became obvious they would wait in vain, the pair turned and walked in silence back to the cave. It seemed quiet and empty without him. Despite his small size, the man had a physical presence that seemed to fill a room. Although he had been saying he was going to leave, only now, with the physical evidence of his absence did Gryph examine his feelings. He felt more anxious without him, more vulnerable. But strangely, there was another feeling, a feeling of relief.

So together in melancholy silence, the pair rested for the remainder of the day, napping on and off and eating when they felt like it. They stayed fairly close until dark, then both drifted off to their rooms, exchanging a wave and a smile.

The next morning it was back to normal, with Skyrae up before the birds and clattering around enough to wake the entire country. Gryph soon joined her, determined to start as he meant to go on. He was going to throw all his energy from waking at dawn to dropping down to sleep at night into his training. He would learn everything anyone had to teach him, and in the autumn he would put his plan into action. Never again would he run or hide from anyone. He would stand tall, and the black Essence could take anyone who got in his way.

From that day on and for many days after, Gryph’s time was filled with chores and lessons, with training and fighting and magic, with letters written and read. The short nights were filled with deep sleep and few dreams, and for long moments, Gryph was able to forget his past, put aside his fear and anger, and concentrate on the here and now. On this diet of physical exercise, lots of good food and fresh air, Gryph grew and expanded. He would never be a muscle-bound giant, but he would become as strong as he needed to be. His mind too seemed to keep up with his body, broadening and becoming deeper. All his tutors were more than pleased with him. But despite a more open relationship, particularly with Kayelyn, they still didn’t know about the jar.

Soon, very soon, he would not merely raise the lid, but smash the whole jar. He would look closely at each and every item it had contained, and each would spur him on, raising his anger until the fireball he had blasted at Kayelyn’s candle would look like a candle flame in comparison.

Next Chapter: Chapter Nine - Martan