Lessons in Patience and Passion

Lucius took a deep breath, staring down at his hands.

“…And ever since I met Melissa, jumped through all these portals... transformed into a satyr and back again.... I’ve felt like something inside me has changed.” He rubbed his fingers together. “And now, since we arrived here, that feeling grew even stronger. I can’t really explain it…”

Aelmir, who had recovered from his initial shock and grief over his ruined cellar, stepped closer again, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

“Let me see your hands, boy.”

The old man slid the magnifying lens over his eye and carefully examined Lucius’ fingers. 

Then he rummaged in his pocket, pulled out a small pouch, and sprinkled a fine, shimmering powder over Lucius’ palms.

“Animor revelathir!” he murmured.

Lucius’ hands began to glow with a vivid purple light, reflected in Aelmir’s magnifying glass.

“Fascinating…” the old man whispered. “It seems as though your magical potential has increased exponentially with each interaction between these worlds!”

Marcthain leaned back in his chair, deep lines etched across his forehead.

“Well… that explains quite a lot. But it also raises a hundred new questions."

Lucius opened his mouth to answer, but Marcthain cut him off immediately with a raised hand.

“Let’s save that for next time. What matters now is this: you’re sitting on a massive amount of destructive potential. And right now, we could really use that.”

He rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful for a moment. Then his expression sharpened.

“Change of plans.” He fixed Lucius with a focused stare. “Lucius, you’ll stay here with Aelmir for the rest of the day and learn as much as you possibly can. Tomorrow at sunrise, I want you on the training grounds at the castell. That’s the big building with the two towers.”

Lucius blinked. 

Part of him wanted to argue that he’d never asked for any of this, that he wasn’t some tool to be trained and used.

But another part, a strange part deep inside, burned with curiosity.

“Uh… okay,” he managed to say, while Aelmir was still fussing over his glowing hands.

Marcthain headed for the stairs, pausing to look back at him one last time.

“…And bring your wild companion with you. Let’s see if she’s really as good at fighting as she claims to be.”

The next few hours, Lucius spent learning the very basics of magic.

Aelmir first made him practice reciting short spell formulas.

Over and over, Lucius had to repeat the words until his teacher was finally satisfied and some of them sounded like downright tongue-twisters. 

Between practice rounds, Lucius scribbled frantic notes on scraps of paper so he could rehearse the proper pronunciation later.

At one point, Aelmir decided to put on a little demonstration. 

He dripped some Essence onto a piece of charcoal and spoke the incantation.

“Animor creag lapidorath!”

Before Lucius’ eyes, the lump of coal swelled and transformed into a small golem, which immediately began tidying up the wreckage in the cellar on Aelmir’s command.

“I want to learn that too!” Lucius said excitedly.

But the old man snapped at him sternly.

“Haven’t you caused enough destruction already?” He pointed an accusing finger at the still devastated cellar. “First you learn the basics. What good is all your magical potential if you can’t even pronounce the spells and fail in conjuring them?”

After a while, Lucius’ brain felt like mush. 

He slumped down onto a small wooden stool, exhausted, outside, dusk was already falling. 

“Alright, I think that’s enough for today,” Aelmir finally declared.

And so, Lucius made his way back, when it was already dark.

᯽᯽᯽

The inn was loud and crowded with guests, the waitresses busy with work.

Back in their room, Melissa lay sprawled across the bed, half of her upper body dangling over the edge, her hooves still on the mattress. 

She was half asleep, holding an empty mug of ale in her hand.

On the wooden table at the end of the room lay several loaves of bread, chunks of sausage and cheese, or what remained of them.

“Where did all this food come from?” Lucius asked, confused. After all, he hadn’t brought anything back himself, still having no gold to spend. 

I hope she didn’t steal anything.

Melissa yawned, rubbing her eyes as she struggled to wake up.

“That human guy dropped it off earlier… what was his name again?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Marcthain?” Lucius guessed.

“Yeah, that’s the one! He was rambling something about a training.”

She gave Lucius a sly look, her amber eyes glinting wickedly.

“So… tell me. Can I now call you officially my little wizard now?”

Lucius flashed a playful grin.

“I wouldn’t go that far but I’m at least… on my way there.”

His gaze slid over her fur-covered thighs. 

At that moment, the mug slipped from Melissa’s slack fingers and clattered noisily across the floor.

She stretched with a low moan, her tail flicking against the bedframe.

“On your way there?” she repeated in a voice still thick with sleep and ale, but there was a dangerous, teasing spark in it.

In one swift, fluid motion, she rolled over, leapt off the bed, and landed on the wooden floor with the soft thud of her hooves.

Lucius’ hands found their way to her hips, feeling the warmth of her fur under his fingers. 

Melissa’s claws curled lightly into his shoulders, tugging him closer until her breath, sweet with ale, brushed his lips.

Suddenly, with surprising strength, she pushed him back against the table, her amber eyes blazing.

“…Then show me what you’ve learned, little wizard,” she murmured, and before he could answer, she kissed him.

And in that moment, everything else fell away. 

All that remained in the silence of the room was the creaking of wood beneath them and the ragged sounds of their breathing.