Housekeeping
Today, Arthur is frustrated trying to write while on a ship, and something is very wrong with Terry. Enjoy!
Fear and Concern
Arthur sat at a small writing desk in his cabin and tried to compose his thoughts. This journey he found himself on was no ordinary quest. He was fairly sure of that now. He’d been on several, but nothing like what Terrance Lingal had caught him up in. Things changed everywhere they went now and it was all due to young Terrance. Arthur thought that Aloysius might be leading them along the Song Lines as well. If so, this was going to be a journey of profound importance.
He’d reviewed the relevant information, images, “video” in his Stonus and now he was going to begin his epic text on the possible return of the Paladins. He dipped his pen into the ink, then began to write. A turbulent wave struck the hull and caused the pen to jump back through his line. He stared at it. He was going to remain calm. He’d learned much about remaining calm in the last six weeks. He simply scratched through the offending line and moved down one to begin again.
The next wave marred the entire page with a jagged line from one corner to the opposite lower corner. Arthur stared at it. He gently cleaned his pen nib, replaced it in its writing case, stoppered the inkwell, replaced it, closed the case, then took a deep breath. The next several minutes involved tossing stacks of paper and throwing his chair around the small cabin in an effort to not scream.
It had been like this every single day. The One apparently didn’t feel it was time for writing just yet. Not even on a preliminary level. He tidied his cabin back up into some form of order and placed his chair back under the writing desk which was attached to the wall. He wasn’t sure why there even was a writing desk at this point. No one in their right mind would attempt to work like this on a ship.
Instead, Arthur decided that a walk on deck would help calm him down. He stepped out into the hall and saw the child, Gella, running back down the length of the ship toward him.
“What’s your hurry, child?”
She must have been upset because she forgot to roll her eyes at being called a child.
“Master Carmichael, something’s wrong with Terry.”
He’d been expecting this. The boy’s mood had been growing darker over the days at sea. Yesterday he’d barely spoken.
“One of his melancholy moods I take it?”
“I don’t know what that means. I just know something’s not right.”
The girl was observant. “Then come, child. We’re going to speak with him.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Me? I thought you’d want me to ‘run along and play’ or something.” NOW she remembered to be petulant. That may have been his own fault he realized. She was more important to all of this, and Terrance, than Arthur had initially thought.
“Girl… I’m sorry. Gella, you’re as much a part of this as any of us. It’s obvious you care about Terrance. I’d like you to help me with him.”
The girl looked determined. “How can I help?”
Arthur had to smile. “You make it harder for our young hero to deceive himself. You remind him of what’s important.”
That made the girl smile, and she nodded. “Gladly! But let’s hurry!”
Arthur nodded himself, and they climbed the ladder single file to the deck.
The sky was the cloudy, greenish-gray that said a storm would be coming at some point. If Arthur thought Terrance knew what he was doing he’d ask him to use his magic to clear things up. But the boy didn’t. Out of battle he was hesitant to acknowledge his abilities. Other than a few exercises he did in the mornings, the boy treated them like they belonged to someone else and were on loan most of the time.
He found the boy near the bow, looking out at the horizon. He leaned, hands on the railing, and looked ill at ease.
“Young Master Terrance,” Arthur said as he approached, “I understand you might be bothered by something.”
Terrance turned and he looked for all the world like he was going to tell Arthur what he could do with his concern, but he caught sight of Gella and seemed to bite his tongue. Instead, he leaned back against the railing and seemed nervous.
“It’s nothing,” he said, then winced as if he’d been slapped by his own lie. “FINE. I’m afraid, and I need to deal with it myself.”
“What are you scared of?” Gella asked, and Arthur touched the girl’s shoulder.
“Scared and afraid are two different things,” Arthur said. “Scared is a fear of something. Afraid is a deeper fear, rooted in the soul.”
The girl nodded in understanding, as Arthur spoke to Terry.
“The gi-GELLA is right to ask though.” He was going to have to work on that. She really was a sweet child, if a bit prideful.
Terrance looked at both of them for a long moment. “You’re not going to leave me alone about it, are you.”
“I hadn’t intended to, no,” Arthur said, trying not to smile. “We are your party. When you’re like this, it affects your leadership.”
Terrance held a finger up. “That’s one thing right there. I am not a leader. I’m not meant to be one.”
“Pull the other one,” Gella said in surprise. Arthur DID chuckle at that. Terrance gave the girl a look, the first angry one he’d seen the boy direct at her, but then he sighed and his shoulders sagged.
“Terrance, Terry,” Arthur said and that got the boys attention. He felt Terry wasn’t an appropriate name for someone of the boy’s gravitas, but if it put him off his guard, he’d call him Terry until the Healing.
“What do you think you’ve been doing for all these weeks with us?”
Terry opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Arthur spoke into his hesitation.
“I do not follow orders, Terry. Gella surely wouldn’t either. But you inspire a trust from people. You claim you make no plans, and perhaps that’s true, but I’d trust your instincts in a situation more than most military strategists. You are a leader by nature.”
“Fine. Maybe that isn’t the problem. It’s a part of it, but it’s not really what I’m afraid of.” Terry turned his face away, the shame there evident.
“Then what are you afraid of?” Gella asked again.
“Change,” Terry said. He turned to face them then and the fear there reminded Arthur of when they’d first met Gella. It reminded him of his sister just after the Plague Doctors took their father. It reminded him of an orc princess long ago who hadn’t wanted the throne.
“Which change?” Arthur asked.
Terry made wide sweeping gestures with his arms. “All of it! This!” he said, and threw his open palm at a section of the sky behind him. The clouds there seemed to swirl. He made a fist and those clouds came together. They grew thicker. The sky there began to grow darker. There was static in the air, and Arthur became nervous. Then the boy opened his hand and let go of whatever he thought he was holding, and the sky went back to simply cloudy. The static dissipated.
“I’M changing, Arthur, and I’m terrified. I shouldn’t be able to do this.”
Arthur considered his next words carefully. “Terry, when I told you that you were a Spell Blade, you accepted it readily. It wasn’t until I told you that there was something more to be that you began to reject it.”
The boy shrugged.
“Don’t deny it. Why can’t you accept that you are something more than you knew?”
To Arthur’s surprise, Terry sat down on the deck heavily and put his back against the railing. He pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them.
“Because,” he said, “I’m afraid that if I change too much, I won’t be who Delores fell in love with. What if I get there and I’m so different that she doesn’t know me any more.”
Gella sat down beside Terry and took his hand, and the boy stared at it. Arthur sighed heavily and sat on the deck across from the two of them.
“Have you considered that when you find Delores she’s not going to be who you knew any longer either?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah, actually, a lot. But I’m still going to love her, no matter what’s happened to her.”
Arthur nodded slowly. “So you have reason to doubt her feelings? You’re afraid that her love might be fleeting or fickle?”
The look on Terry’s face was very satisfying. Shock and incredulity mixed. Then understanding. He really was a bright lad.
“When you say it like that, I sound like a jerk for not trusting her.”
“Perspective, Terry. One has to be able to step out of their own head every now and again.” He gave the young man a brief smile. “Is that all you’ve been worried about this whole time?”
“No.”
“Ah.”
“What else could there be?” Gella asked. Arthur could have hugged the girl.
Terry thought for long moments. The sounds of someone in the crow’s nest shouting down coordinates was the only sound of note.
“Sometimes,” Terry finally said, “when I’m about to do something stupid or dangerous I can feel something moving.”
Arthur couldn’t help himself. He began recording what the boy called “video”. He wanted to keep a record of this. “What do you feel moving, Terry?”
“I don’t know. It’s massive. It feels like something from somewhere else, but it’s connected to me. It maneuvers me into situations where I HAVE to do things. Big things. But other times, I feel like I’m pushing it and it moves FOR me. I don’t know which idea is more frightening. That I’m being manipulated or that I’m controlling something that I don’t understand.”
Gella was staring at him wide-eyed. Arthur could understand the sentiment. He would have to look in his data to see if there was anything similar to what Terry described. He had theories, but the last thing he needed to do was give the boy something larger to panic over.
“Terry, I don’t know what that means, but I’m going to tell you something, and I need you to consider it seriously. Will you do that for me?”
“Sure.” The boy already seemed more himself.
“I want you to consider the fact that you haven’t changed. You’re only discovering what you’ve always been.”
“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I have no idea what you are,” Arthur said, leaning forward with his hands on his own knees, “but you’re only discovering what has been here the whole time. It’s like discovering you have a muscle you’ve never used, and now that you’re aware of that muscle you can’t help but use it.”
The boy didn’t move. He just stared, and Arthur couldn’t read his expression. Arthur sighed. Now was the part the boy might reject.
“Greatness isn’t something you’ve ever aspired to, Terry. It’s nothing you’ve wanted. But it is your birthright. It is going to be yours whether you seek it or not.”
Terry opened his mouth, but Arthur forestalled him with a raised hand.
“Don’t speak. Just listen.” He waited, and Terry said nothing. “I have known ‘great’ men and women. I have seen them reach for power for every conceivable purpose under the two moons but always, in the end, they sought power for the same reasons. Power itself. No matter what noble goals started them on the path toward greatness, they failed because in the end they sought it for glory and therefore it fled from them.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” Terry said, and Arthur smiled.
“YOU, Terrance Lingal, may be the first human I have ever met that may deserve that greatness.”
Gella nodded and, again, Arthur felt he had done the girl a disservice in his treatment of her.
“Why me?” Terry asked quietly.
“Because you will wield it like your sword. You will know when to set greatness down to be kind.” Arthur swallowed. “You are the best of us.”
None of them spoke for a time until Arthur felt he needed to add more.
“I would be concerned about giving you a swelled head, Terry, but I don’t know that you have an ego to inflate.”
At that, Terry laughed. “So, you don’t think I’m a Paladin any more?”
“I told you, I have no idea what you are. Other than a mule-headed innocent with the center of the universe in his coat pocket.”
Their laughter was cut short by the man in the crow’s nest shouting down with a wooden megaphone.
“Oow! There’s a thing over there!”
Captain Spalding ran up in his too-large shoes and looked up at the crow’s nest.
“Is it bigger than a bread box?”
“That depends on the size a’ the breadbox. It’s pretty big!”
Arthur stood as quickly as his joints would allow and looked in the direction the curly haired buffoon up there pointed. Terry had already sprung to his feet and helped Gella rise.
The Captain was suddenly there with them at the bow, along with Lydia.
“The nine hells is that?” the first mate said, pulling her spyglass out.
Terry leaned over the railing to try for a better look and Arthur saw his jaw drop. The boy turned and shouted at the crow’s nest.
“How far is that thing?!”
“Oooow, it’s about five miles!”
“And we can see it from here,” Terry said quietly.
“What is it?” Gella asked.
“Sea serpent, it looks like,” Lydia said. “The idiot has to have the distance wrong, or else that thing is massive.”
Arthur walked up to the railing and stared. It looked like the distance was correct to him. He studied the thing’s wake and direction.
“Well, Mistress Lydia, Captain Spalding,” Arthur said, “we’re going to have a wonderful opportunity to judge its size once it reaches us.”
I love how Terry’s magic is directly tied to his anxiety and emotional state. The scene where he casually manipulates the storm clouds with a fistful of static—only to break down because he’s afraid of changing too much for Delores—gives his powers genuine thematic depth.