Wandering Agent
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Elevation of Mana Chapter 35 Coming to Terms
🕑 Added 2023-06-14 03:47:58 +0000 UTCWhen it was done I had to flee to my mother for protection from her angry spouse. In my years on this world, that was a first, but one I could tell she rather liked. Apparently it was hard to keep mad at me when I went to hide because after only a short telling off I found myself pulled into her lap and my ears gently rubbed to get the pain away. I was still the size of a child and with all the looks, so it was probably rather cute to her.
I seldom let her do things like this, still a bit weird to me, but she didn't actually ask this time, and I was tired. Where to go from here wasn't clear. It might take a long time to get more copper, as I had no clue where the veins were, or the easy to find bits. I doubted my father would help me right now, perhaps later, but I was getting tired of later, I'd waited months for this just to lose it at the moment of success.
“It worked,” I complained.
“Perhaps you should go and explain that to your father.” I didn't respond, as we both knew how that would go. “No? Well, then what did you learn?”
“Do things where nobody will see them,” I responded.
That was clearly the wrong answer, as I felt the hand that'd been so soft only a few moments ago begin to press harder.
“Try again, and seriously this time.”
“He wants me not to do things like that inside, it could be dangerous,” I parroted what had been yelled at me. “Even if it works.”
“Do you need another punishment?” She asked sweetly.
“No, I will do it outside, and away from burnables next time.”
“Or you could just not make huge fires,” my nearby auntie suggested.
“Perhaps you should stop using fire. It would mean you have to give up pottery though,” I suggested.
“Even when he should be sorry he's still mouthy,” Atie frowned.
“I'm mouthy when I'm right,” I pointed out.
“You weren't right,” my mother said with finality.
I could keep arguing, keep trying to convince them that I knew what I was doing, and I knew it was safe. That wouldn't work though, I'd spent so much time trying to convince everyone that I was just doing everything I could think of, everything I could try, that it didn't track. That I'd also known well the dangers of fire and to keep it insulated from that also seemed to fall on deaf ears, since I was still technically a child.
What I needed was a workshop, something private, where I could do as I pleased. That didn't seem likely though, as we were very, very communal here. People were always around one another, always doing new things together. It was safer that way if something went wrong, which they did all the time.
“What will dad do with the thing I made?” I asked.
“I don't know, that depends on if it's dangerous or not. If he thinks it is, he'll get rid of it, otherwise you might get it back if you act good,” mom advised.
“I always act good,” I complained, and upon seeing their eyebrows go so high thought again. “Most of the time... sometimes... when I feel like it. At least I'm normally safe.” They kept looking at me after the last one. “Come on, when's the last time someone got hurt because of something I did.”
“Safe and lucky aren't the same thing,” mom hissed.
“Fine, I'll try to come up with a better way to do things, in case something goes wrong,” I answered before she could start the ear twisting again.
“Do more than that Elian,” Auntie Atie said. “Come up with what happens when it goes wrong, then what happens if what you made to protect you fails, then one after that too. Try to think of the worst that could happen and plan for it.”
Her words reminded me of elevators and how they were made back on Earth. There were layers of fail-safes, and it was almost impossible for one to completely fall so long as physics was working and it was still in the elevator shaft. Frankly if either of those two were no longer true there were much larger problems than a falling elevator. Though I suppose physics remaining true seemed slightly less likely in this world, magic and all.
“How would you have done it?” I asked her.
“Depends on how hot you got it,” she commented.
“Glowing brightly, and way hotter than your pots get.”
Both of them fixed me with glares. “In the house!?” I was asked.
“Yes, that was definitely the first problem,” I answered cautiously. “What else though?”
“Ask your father,” mom finally said. “But not now, tomorrow or when he gets time, he's till mad at you.”
So I sat back and waited. I didn't like having to do it, but sometimes that was just what you had to do. During my time I went back to pottery with my aunt, and playing with the other boys. I even spent one afternoon with Isha, just relaxing as she made some baskets and I worked on tool handles. One could never have enough tools in my opinion.
Soon enough though there was a good time, a day when both dad and I were at the village rather than out and about. He sat there working on spearheads, replacements that were always needed as the stone ones broke often.
“I want to talk,” I said, sitting across from him.
“About what?” he asked gruffly.
“I know you're still mad about me getting the weird rock stuff so hot.”
“I'm not angry anymore. I was angry, but no, I'm not mad. I am disappointed. I am disappointed that you would do something so foolish, without properly talking to others and making sure there was nothing that could harm the house, or more importantly yourself. Particularly after you've done so many good things.” His words hurt a bit, and I frowned.
“Alright, well what would be a better way to do it?” I asked honestly. “I plan on trying again, and maybe with different things, so how should I? Not inside, I understand that that was the first mistake, but what else?”
“I would prefer you not try again,” he said with a slight frown.
“I know, but I was onto something, I can tell. I will try again, with or without your help. If I have to hide it from you, I will, but I don't want to.” I was not giving up on metal, it was too big a thing, and I wasn't waiting for years when I'd already met success to keep trying, that was also simply not happening.
I could tell that my dad was angry at that. Being told by your young son that he was going to do what he was going to do regardless of how you felt about it would rankle any parent.
“You will fight me on this?” he asked with furrowed brows.
“It isn't this. When I... when I dream I see a different world, a world where we are so much more than we are right now. We could be so much more, see so many wonders. I see towers of stone and crystal, roads connecting everywhere that are clean and without dirt. Crossings over water made of wood, or rock, or ropes. I see a world where monsters like the ones that destroyed our home and took so many flee. Where the dangers of the forest are pushed back by the light. Where death almost never comes, and everyone lives to be like Elaya, or even Atal. That is what I want, that is what I will fight for, not for me alone, for everyone.”
He listened, and put aside his work, then rising to come and hug me. “That is a beautiful dream my son, but you must live to see it. You must do things right so that you can make your dream happen, even if only a little bit. Promise me that, promise that you will keep yourself safe.”
“I promise,” I said, and I meant it.
“Then let's go and build you somewhere you can try again, somewhere safer. Also, tell me so I can watch and help if you get hurt.”
“Okay dad.”
Comments
Jeppe Fiig
Love the way you made this. Having Justin explain his dream aka his motives to his dad, in a way he can understand and by extension the audience, really sets up what we in for
March
Thanks
