Free Firebrand by R.M. Prioleau Page B

your arm ... an extra eye or ear ... a piece of your mind. It has become a part of you. Do you understand?”
    Kaijin nodded once, though fear was prominent in his eyes.
    Jarial dismissed the boys to bed. At Kaijin’s command the bat remained hanging upside down in its spot on the kitchen ceiling for the remainder of the night. Jarial returned to the cellar and pondered the day’s events.

IV
     
    Kaijin learned his spells in the first tier one month later. As his magical insight improved, his passion for fire intensified. With books provided by Jarial, Kaijin researched Ignis extensively. His own admiration for the Firelord inclined the boy to eventually revere Him as his primary deity. Kaijin’s fire obsession had magnified to the point that Jarial forbade him to demonstrate such fanaticism in his presence. So, Kaijin kept his thoughts private and continued learning the ways of the Firelord. The fire symbol he’d picked up from the street was kept hidden beneath his shirt—and close to his heart—at all times.
     
    *  *  *
     
    While Kaijin spent the majority of his days locked away in the attic scribing new spells, Jarial worked with Rorick in the study. The mage’s patience was wearing thin. It had been two years since the boys first arrived, and Jarial felt Rorick still wasn’t ready to scribe a basic cantrip.
    “Again.” Jarial slid a blank parchment in front of the boy. “Ten more times. Draw the rune for ‘sky.’ I should only see four strokes for each one—no more, no less.”
    Rorick sighed, dipped his quill in the inkwell, and began his slow work. With an unsteady, hand, Rorick scrawled a rune halfway across the page.
    Jarial peered over the boy’s shoulder and scowled. “Enough, Rorick.” He snatched the quill.
    Rorick frowned, keeping his eyes on the parchment. “What is it, Master?”
    Jarial narrowed his eyes. “You’ve yet to convince me that you want to learn this. Do you?”
    Rorick glanced up. “What do you mean?”
    “I’m dissatisfied with your progress. You’ve not demonstrated the same seriousness about your studies that you did two years ago. In fact, it seems, the older you get, the worse you become. Learning magic is a lifelong commitment, Rorick. You are certainly not like your brother in this respect. If you do not want to learn, quit wasting my time.”
    Rorick clenched his teeth, attempting to contain his rage. “I am trying to draw these pictures, Master, but it’s too hard!”
    Jarial scoffed. “‘Draw pictures’? Is that what you think you’re doing, Rorick?”
    “It looks like a picture to me.”
    “You are not ‘drawing pictures!’ You are scribing runes. You are learning how to write magic. How many times must we go over this?”
    “Pictures, runes ... they’re all still too hard to write!”
    “That’s no excuse! Kaijin was younger than you when I first met him. He couldn’t read magic, let alone, write it. But he applied himself and strove to improve.”
    “All you do is make me memorize words ... writing strange pictures a hundred times ... I never get to do anything fun like learn spells or train animals!”
    Jarial rubbed his temples. “Runes, Rorick. They’re called runes! How in the hells am I supposed to teach you anything when you don’t even know what you’re writing?”
    Rorick shuddered, on the brink of tears. “You’re always so mean to me, Master! Why do you like Kaijin better? Why does he get to learn spells and talk to bats and play with fire and not get in trouble when he stays up late? It’s not fair, Master!”
    “Kaijin has applied himself. Unlike you, he wants to learn. He likes to challenge himself.” Jarial crossed his arms. “Tell me, Rorick. What is it you really want out of this?”
    Rorick’s bottom lip quivered. He thought on his master’s question for a few moments. “I ... I don’t want to learn magic any more, Master. I want to go home. Kaijin is better. He’s always better! I want to go home, Master!