Smores over Felfire

It was rare to see Chadre out in the middle of the square, rarer still to see him leading Hegor and Meich instead of the other way around. So naturally, a small mob began to form as the three walked on. Hegor looked focused, like there was still something that he couldn’t piece together. Meich looked nervous, but as the crowd began to grow, he slowly became more and more confident, likely because of how he enjoyed appearing in control. Chadre, as was normal, looked completely passive, not a single emotion crossing his face as the faces he passed contorted into fear, admiration, anger, or apathy. Finally, he and the other two reached the smoldering fire from the night before. “Here is as good a place as any I suppose.” Chadre said. Hegor stood and nodded his agreement. Meich smirked, hit the ground with the heel of his foot, and a block of stone rose from the ground to serve as his seat for the show to come. There were various gasps and mutterings, but most were concentrating on the father and Chadre, not on the boy’s antics.
“The process of finding your… ‘magical’ strength is a simple one, though it is difficult to explain. It is much like waking up while dreaming, or so your son has told me.” Chadre’s eyes flared again, and the fire between them began to relight. Hegor sniffed deeply, the smokey scent of the flame reaching his nose moments before the heat did. “But first, you must know how to percieve magic before you can manipulate it.”
“You mean that smokey smell?” Hegor interjected. “Or that odd dust cloud smell whenever Meich does it?”
Chadre nodded, “Your son was a bit more difficult, but much more practical given his gift.”
Meich grinned, “Being able to sense magic stuff through touch is rather helpful when I can use the ground itself to extend my ‘range’ hmm?”
Hegor remained quiet. “So as I can smell magic as it is done, Meich can touch it, does that mean our other senses can… well… sense it?
Chadre shook his head. “I am unsure, you are the only two who have been able to sense magic outside of sight. In fact, I was shocked to hear that you cannot simply see it as I do.” Chadre shrugged, “another difference between our my kind and yours.”
“Yours?” Hegor repeated, “There are more like you?”
“I don’t know… but I’m fairly certain. Why would I be the only of my kind?” Chadre shrugged again, “let us remain on task though. You can smell magic as it happens, focus on that.”
“How,” Hegor asked, “would I do that? Would you have me simply sit here and sniff until something happens?”
Meich got up and began working the ground at his feet. With the raising and lowering of his hands, he sent minor ripples through the ground. As Hegor began to smell the familiar dusty fragrance that had become associated with his son’s abilities. “No,” Chadre replied, “I expect you to wake up.”
At that moment, Hegor felt as if time had begun to slow down, everything seemed to move a little slower, like walking through water. Hegor turned around, and sure enough, everyone was just a little more sluggish-looking, even Chadre. He felt… normal… but somehow more aware, like he had just woken…
At once, he became intensely aware of the people around him. He could feel Meich’s curiosity, Chadre’s patience, the crowd’s confusion, resentment, apathy, interest, all this at once in one giant swirl of emotion, yet each distinct in its own way.
Hegor dropped to a knee and closed his eyes, desperately trying to keep his thoughts organized. He felt the flow, his magic, wrap itself around his own head, deluding the sheer force of what he was feeling. He sat there for a moment or two, feeling the onslaught of emotion dimming in intensity, but unifying in worry. He felt a hand on his shoulder, once that smelled… dusty. He remembered where he was and, as he rose, the world became right again.
“Hegor… are you alright?” He opened his eyes to find Kreitz of all people staring at him, concern clearly written on his face.
“Yes I’m… I’m fine…” Hegor shook his head slightly. He was still trying to get his bearings. “Waking from a dream Meich? That was more of a nightmare than anything else…”
“Well… the first part was pleasant enough,” Meich replied sheepishly. “The ‘feeling like I couldn’t move my feet’ wasn’t as much fun, but it went away soon enough.” Meich tilled his head to the side, “though I don’t suppose you share my ‘kind’ of magic… as I caused a little damage when I ‘woke up.’ You just looked sick.”
Hegor nodded and turned to Chadre, who was watching the two Firstborn carefully. “Interesting… your reaction was much different than your son’s.” Chadre’s eyes glowed briefly and the fire extinguished. What did you see?”
“I saw the world slow down. I felt the minds of those around us, I felt my… my magic I suppose… rise up to protect me from… whatever was happening.” He could still feel it there too, cocooning his brain from the cacophony around it. “And then I got back up.”
“It seems that the process of ‘waking’ as Meich calls it is not as simple as I thought.” Chadre said as he studied Hegor’s expression. “But I do see you have woken. Let us see what you can do then.”
Hegor smelled something new… something vaguely sweet. Chadre’s eyes were glowing brightly as the air around him began to spin quicker and quicker. Hegor could sense something building, as the smell became more and more pungent. Perhaps it was a holdover from his ordeal earlier or maybe it was in spite of it, but the movement of the air seemed, strangely, patterned. Hegor, oddly, understood what Chadre was doing: creating a small, but strong, burst of air to test Hegor’s strength. Hegor felt the effect forming quickly in Chadre’s mind and, inexplicably, knew how to stop it.
To those looking on, it was remarkably unremarkable. Hegor raised his hand and pointed at Chadre as the tempest of wind and force were beginning to kick up dust and pebbles from the ground. A moment later, the effect dissipated and Chadre was staring at Hegor, both in shock and a sense of respect. Chadre had forgotten what he was doing. Hegor had simply taken the thought from him.

“You wanted to speak with me Hegor?” Kreitz said to his Firstborn friend. This was the first time since their excursions into the forest that the two had any real conversation apart from the occasional query from Chadre. Kreitz had an odd relationship with Chadre as the village leader. While he couldn’t deny that Chadre’s teachings had inspired Hegor in several ways that had positively affected the village as a whole, Kreitz kept his distance from the creature. The answers Kreitz gave to Chadre were usually curt and quick. While this seemed fine with Chadre, Hegor couldn’t help but notice the glimmer of annoyance that accompanied the chief’s answers.
“I did, would you sit?” Hegor gestured toward a small, flat rock that was placed nearby. Hegor himself was sitting down, trying to pick up a small stone like he did the globe of water, but finding little progress.
Kreitz didn’t move. “I’d prefer to stand, what is it you want Hegor? More answers for the creature?”
Hegor sighed and slowly stood up. “No, Chadre is currently speaking with Meich, both as an exercise in teaching the boy Chadre’s gift as well as Chadre our language.” Hegor turned to Kreitz before continuing. Hearing nothing, Hegor continued. “I do find it strange how much to dislike our guest. Thanks to him we have been well fed for several months. He has led several hunts into the wild and each time we come back with several pelts, berries, and meat. We have lost no one to the forest creatures and our tribe is thriving for the first time in many winters.” He paused and gestured toward the smoking fire-pit “Furthermore, thanks to Chadre, we now control fire. He has given us so much, so why do you hate him so?”
Kreitz sucked in a long and shuttering breath, held it for a moment, and let it all out at once. “You claim Chadre has given us much to be thankful for. I would say we have become his willing slaves.” Kreitz paced slowly around the fire-pit, glaring at the smoke, then at Hegor, and back again. “You are rarely seen apart from him, and now you expose your own flesh and blood to that creature. He looks much like you do, yes, and I don’t know whether or not that is because of your time together or simply because he wishes to emulate you in whatever way he can. Perhaps he did it to put the rest of the village at ease, as his previous form was frightening to many of the villagers. Perhaps he did it so would be easier to learn his… skills. Or maybe… just maybe… he did it to put us at ease, to have us put our guard down.”
“Kreitz, if he wanted to kill us, he would have done so long ago.” Hegor interjected in a voice both firm, but taut in annoyance.
“Oh yes, he’d just set us aflame like he did with the “wolf” that you claim he saw and killed. But think on that Hegor, why did he kill the wolf? Why did he track, then slaughter, creatures that he doesn’t eat? He didn’t do it for sport, as there are very few things that I’ve seen him do for the simple pleasure of doing it. In fact,” Kreitz paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, “I can’t think of a single thing.”
“He’s learning our language Kreitz.” Hegor replied through gritted teeth. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry, but the fact that Kreitz was calling the loyalties of his friend and mentor seemed to have an oddly infuriating effect, much more so than if, say, Meich were saying that Kreitz was sneaking off with extra food. Maybe Chadre was influencing his thoughts…
“He is learning our language so he can articulate what exactly he wants! People fear things they don’t understand. Chadre is becoming more and more vocal with each day. Soon there won’t be a single person who wouldn’t greet him the same way they’d greet you, his keeper.” Kreitz’s mouth shifted from a stern scowl to a sardonic smirk. “Ironic, given how much you two look alike.”
Hegor sighed, “Just say what you are going to say and be done with it. What is it about Chadre that has you so worried?”
“You claim that it’s the ache that sustains him, I think it’s something else. Think back carefully: When he killed the wolves, caught fish, or… did whatever he does when you lose the ache, what does he do?” Hegor looked pensive for a moment, but Kreitz pressed through the silence. “He makes that strange sniffing sound, like a deep breath that never ends. But the fish and the wolf, they both die after he’s finished with them Hegor.” Kreitz stopped pacing around the fire pit and locked eyes with Hegor. “You lose the ache, but you also, by your own admission, feel empty. What if the ache is more than just a mild restlessness? What if it’s our lifeblood? What if that thing has been sucking the very life out of you this whole time?”
Hegor remained silent for a long moment. “Perhaps he is. But think of the good my life would buy for the village? I have, with Chadre, turned the village from starvation into plenty. If my life is the only thing that is needed to ensure the village’s survival, so be it.”
Kreitz let out a short derisive laugh. “You think that it will stop with you? You said yourself you are letting Chadre teach Meich the same skills you possess. What was the first thing that he taught you outside of the ‘name’ of the fish and the wolves? I don’t suppose it was the ability to rid yourself of the ache, was it?” Hegor remained silent. Kreitz sighed deeply and placed a hand on Hegor’s shoulder. “My friend, I tell you this not to berate you, but to simply tell you what I have seen. There is a possibility that I’m wrong and Chadre truly does have our best interests at heart. I’ll happily agree that the things you have done with him have helped our village. But at what cost? Do we continue to let him leech our life away? What if there are others like him? What if one day he leaves for the forest and comes back with a pack of creatures like himself? How many people would we have to sacrifice to keep them all fed for the sake of those left?”
“So what should we do Kreitz? Do we throw Chadre out and hope he doesn’t incinerate us all?” Hegor shot back.
“Out of all of us, Hegor, you and your family are the safest. You and, perhaps, your son are the only two who would know how to feed the creature without being killed. So I ask you this, as both the chieftain of the village and as a fellow firstborn. Be on your guard, for Chadre is a very intelligent creature and we don’t know what his plans for the future are.” With that, Kreitz turned and walked back in the direction of his tent. His words, however, lingered in Hegor’s mind all the way to the riverside, where Meich and Chadre were waiting amongst a pile of broken rocks.
“Hegor!” Meich called out, “come here! I have something you would like to see.” Hegor trotted over to find Chadre sitting, quite comfortably, on a small stone seat, looking quite pleased with himself. Hegor gave a quick nod to his friend before turning to Meich.
“All right boy, what have you learned?”
Meich, grinning ear to ear, placed his hands on the ground in front of him. The air started to smell oddly grimy, like how a dust storm would smell like, but though he continued to breath, Hegor didn’t choke. From the ground itself, Meich pulled a slab of rock, roughly just as high and twice as wide as he was. The sides of the slab were smooth but pockmarked, yet very sturdy looking as it was more than a hand’s breadth thick. Hegor smiled widely. “Well done Meich! Perhaps we can build a true home out of this.” Meich’s nodded enthusiastically and, after bowing to Chadre, sprinted toward his hovel. “Why did you teach him that? Why not something with water, like you taught me?” he asked Chadre.
The mentor had just risen to his feet and had begun walking after Meich, probably to supervise the construction of the house. “Because that is where his… what’s the word… ‘power.’ That is where his power is.” Chadre motioned to Hegor for him to follow. Hegor complied, and the two of them walked back to the village. “Not everyone can move water like you do Hegor. In fact, you should not even be able to.”
“What do you mean?” Hegor replied.
“I taught you how to move water because it was simpler. I could not yet speak with you as I did with Meich. But with Meich I was able to ask him what he thought, not merely guess as to what he meant. I must thank you for the time you spent teaching me your language, it has been much easier to communicate with the people of your village than with grunts and stomps.” Chadre stopped and faced Hegor, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes slightly. “You feel… troubled that I have taught your son? Was it not your own will for him to be taught? Or perhaps you feel as if I have not been forthright with you?”
“It isn’t that Chadre,” Hegor said. “I feel like I’m standing still while my son is growing. He will likely build not only my home, but the homes of the entire village given enough time.”
Chadre nodded, “very likely, but it is your power that will make this tribe great.” Hegor looked curiously at his friend as Chadre started walking again. “I have a few more lessons to teach Meich, but after his lessons are complete, I want to speak with you and you alone. We have a great deal to discuss and not nearly enough time to do so. But we will talk later, I believe your son has something he would like to say.” Chadre pointed ahead, and there on the horizon stood a structure a head taller than Hegor himself, and several times as wide. As the two walked closer, Hegor could make out several figures crowding around it, only one was walking towards Hegor, and he was still grinning just as widely as when he spoke with his father minutes before.

Hegor had never believed in fate. That concept of whatever happens, must happen. The idea that the world, their land, even the number of breaths he would take before he died, was predetermined by some force that no one could see, speak to, listen to, or influence was a cold and unthinkable concept. He remembered the idea being tossed around by some of the other men in the village. He also remembered taking several short breathes in rapid succession just to gall them. Childish? Probably, but so was the idea that no one was master of their own life.
Chadre, the creature from the forest, was living proof that there was a way to master your own destiny.
As they days passed, Chadre had begun to show interest in the language Hegor and his people spoke. Asking for things like the name of the land, people, the forest, and other things nearby became a common scene in the village. Everywhere Chadre went, Hegor followed, for both his own interest as well as the safety and understanding of the villagers. It was rather disconcerting for the villagers to see two “versions” of Hegor, but since the “real” version of Hegor often rewarded those who answered Chadre’s questions with food, most people were glad to see the two of them.
This continued for several months. Chadre’s mind worked much quicker than anything Hegor had ever seen. One, maybe two repetitions of a word and it seemed to be locked in Chadre’s mind. Knowing words like “tree,” “water,” and “fish” were simple concepts to Chadre. The point he seemed to struggle with, however, was verbs, pronouns, anything that had a multitude of meanings based on their position in a sentence.
“We’ll try this once more Chadre,”  Hegor said. He rubbed his eyes, breathed deeply, then pointed at a dead fish nearby. “Fish.”
Chadre replied, with perfect inflection, “fish.”
Hegor picked up the object in question, holding it in his lap. “My fish.”
“My fish.”
“No…” Hegor tossed the fish to Chadre, whose flashing eyes caught it midair, and gently deposited it on the ground directly in front of him. “Now… your fish.”
Chadre looked down, eyes now narrowed and back to their original state. “My… fish?”
Hegor smiled, nodding with a mixture of happiness and exasperation. “Yes, your fish.”
Chadre’s serious countenance remained unchanged. He knew what the right answer was, but didn’t know why. He picked up the dead creature with his hands, and, looking at Hegor, shook it slightly. “Not my fish.”
Hegor walked up to Chadre slowly, “perhaps I was using the wrong example.” He took the fish and threw it behind him. He then pointed at his own two eyes. “Eyes.” Chadre nodded and responded in kind. “My eyes.” Then he pointed at Chadre’s face, “Your eyes.” Hegor waited for Chadre to respond.
Chadre stood, and mimicked the motion Hegor made, pointing at his own eyes, then Hegor’s. Back and forth, back and forth, slowly gaining in speed until finally Hegor saw the glimmer of understanding he was waiting weeks for. Chadre smiled and said, with confidence, “My eyes,” pointing to his own, “Your eyes,” pointing at Hegor. He then pointed at Meich, who happened to be walking by. “Your eyes?”
Hegor smiled nervously, as this may be a bit much. “No. His eyes.” He sighed as he saw Chadre’s expression went from confidence to confusion. “You and I, we talk.” Chadre nodded, his tentative grasp on pronouns holding. “Meich,” Hegor said, pointing to the boy as he walked toward the river, “not talk with us. So ‘his’ eyes. Not ‘your eyes.’ Understand?”
Hegor, apparently, was the only one who could see the subtle twitches and expressions Chadre had. Maybe it was because Chadre had spent so much time with him that he understood through repetition. Perhaps it was because of the common body-structure they shared. Personally, Hegor thought it was because of their common ability to change the world without moving it themselves, their abilities was a common bond that few could understand and even less could appreciate. And as far as Hegor knew, there were only two that could actually perform.
Chadre slowly began to nod. He pointed to where he last saw Meich, “his eyes.” He then pointed to a nearby woman as she was walking down to the waterline. “his eyes?”
“Her eyes.” Hegor said, though he felt that Chadre was beginning to understand.
“Her eyes…” Chadre began to walk toward the village, motioning for Hegor to follow. What happened next was a simple question and answer session, pointing toward the various villagers and asking “his eyes” or “her eyes.” After dozen or so answers, Chadre seemed to understand the difference between the two, and the next dozen were perfectly identified.
Hegor felt that it was time to introduce one more concept before they were done for the day. He pointed to his own chin, which was currently covered with a thick, matted beard. “My beard.” Hegor then pointed at the hair “growing” on Chadre’s face. Then, in a very exaggerated inflection, asked “Whose beard?”
Chadre looked like he was thinking rather hard. He pointed to himself. “My beard?”
Hegor smiled again, asking simple questions like “whose leg,” and “whose elbow” and other body-associated queries, just to make sure Chadre knew what he was saying. By the time they reached the waterline, where Meich was teaching several other boys his age how to spearfish, Chadre had mastered the word “whose.”
Chadre, perhaps in a fit of pride, walked up to Meich and asked “whose fish?”
Meich was used to the simple questions Chadre asked, though at the moment he was a bit busy. “Those? Those are mine.” He nodded curtly towards the pile. “Take one if you want.” Perhaps Chadre understood the whole sentiment, or perhaps he just guessed luckily, but a moment later he had picked up the freshest of the day’s catch, bit it once, then looked contemplative as he stared at the now-dead creature. “Hegor,” he started handing the fish to his friend, “whose eyes?”
Hegor looked down at the fish while he thought about the answer. “Chadre, I can honestly say that I have never thought about it before.” He looked back up at Chadre’s rather familiar face and continued, “The wolves you killed in the forest, did their eyes belong to themselves or to you? Does the act of taking the life of the creatures we hunt for food make their eyes, ears, hearts, or bodies ours, or are we merely stealing it from them?” Hegor smiled wanly, “In truth, I honestly don’t care as these are creatures that do not seem to have an understanding of the world around them. They are blind beasts that exist to hunt, eat, and live, much like how we were before we met you.” Hegor took the fish from Chadre’s outstretched hand and weighed it as he thought. “In the end, his eyes are his own Chadre.” Hegor answered as he handed the fish back, “but his life is yours now.”