“I…” He hadn’t ever given the ability much thought. Everyone knew spellsters could heal, no one before Darshan had mentioned anything about them needing to train that talent. “I thought it was instinctual.”
“To a point, but fire is generally considered as such first and foremost.”
“Because it’s the easiest of magics?” Hamish replied, mimicking the man’s words from a week back.
Darshan inclined his head, a small smile tweaking his moustache. He conjured a small flame in his hand and let it dance on his palm. “But then we are taught what heat is at a young age. We know fire burns and how hot it should be.”
Hamish thought back to his siblings teaching his nieces and nephews the dangers of fire. That’d been back when the children were barely able to walk.
Another thought bubbled up amongst the rest. The raging heat Caitlyn had brought to life when he had been overcome by the bandits that’d been out to kidnap or kill them. The heat had been immense. The air almost too hot to breathe. The screams of men dying…
He shook his head, scattering the memory back into the depths. It had been so long ago. They’d both been so young and him bordering on unconscious. The only one who knew the full truth was Caitlyn and she refused to speak of that day beyond vague mentions.
“But you know the most amusing part?” Darshan continued on, oblivious. “What you do with your arrows? That is some of the hardest magic. There are powerful spellsters out there right now who can command all sorts of wonders, but can barely lift a pebble an inch off the ground. And you manage far more without a thought.”
“I am nae a—” Hamish spluttered. A spellster? Him? When had Darshan come to that conclusion? “I cannae do magic.” What could possibly possess the man to think he could?
“Your arrows never miss,” Darshan whispered.
“That—” He could see where a person unskilled in a bow would think it some spell or trick, but… “That’s just skill through years of training. I focus on where I want the arrow to go and that’s where it hits.”
“Precisely!”
“That doesnae mean I can do magic.”
His lover scoffed. “Any spellster in Udynea is taught how to manipulate the forces around an item.” He scooped up a palm-sized stone and bounced it in his hand. “You see, everything wants to fall, just as the wind wants to buffet them around. Manipulating these constants is tricky.”
“How so?”
Darshan held out his hand and the stone floated above his palm. “Push too little and it falls.” True to his word, the stone dropped back into his grasp. “Too sudden and it grows uncontrollable.” The stone leapt into the air like a flea. “But try to counter these forces too much…”
The stone shattered into dust.
“And you do it all without a thought,” Darshan murmured. “Incredible.”
“I am nae a spellster,” Hamish growled. If he had been one, then his life would’ve taken a far different course a long time ago.
Darshan lifted his head, those hazel eyes glittering with confidence. “Prove it. I know you cannot be a Nulled One, but if your sister is fully related to you as you claim, then you must have magic in your blood.”
He spread his arms wide. “How can I prove I dinnae have an ability?”
His lover stood and after a bit of rummaging through the undergrowth, came up with a length of branch. A few quick swipes with the spellster’s magic were enough to cut a section from the piece. “Aim at this and we shall see.”
Easy enough. He unslung his bow and nocked an arrow, his fingers unconsciously settling into their customary places. “Nae when you’re standing there, though.” Whilst he’d never consciously aim at the man, there was a chance his arrow might stray. Not that it ever had done so. There was always a first time, though.
Darshan chuckled. He waved his hand and the section rose just below the branches. “Try it now.”
Hamish focused on the centre of the slice. It was quite small, now he looked at it, perhaps as big around as a single one of his mare’s hooves. He loosed his arrow.
The tip smacked into the piece with a hollow thunk.
He waited, shuffling from one foot to the other, whilst Darshan examined the slice of wood. “How is this supposed to prove I’ve nae magic in me?”
“Patience, mea lux.” Once again, the wood rose into the air, still carrying the arrow. “Now focus on the same spot and loose only on my command.”
Sighing, he nocked another arrow. The slice wobbled a little more now its weight was uneven, but his focus remained just as sharp. The same spot? He’d done that plenty of times. What did Darshan expect to see?
“Now!”
His fingers twitched. The arrow slipped from his grip, tension carrying it across the clearing towards its target. But the slice of wood moved as the fletching of his arrow past the bow’s belly. Feck. The wood sat no longer directly in front, but to his left. When had Darshan shifted his target? His arrow would completely—
Thunk!
The world slowed, his heart along with it. His breath was almost nonexistent. There was no possible way the arrow could’ve hit that target. He had aimed straight. The slice of wood was even turned sideways and still…
When Darshan returned the slice of wood to their side, the gap between the two arrowheads was negligible.
“That’s nae possible.” The only way that arrow could’ve struck was if it had defied gravity, defied inertia, defied all the bleeding laws of nature. If he had— If he was—
A spellster.
“Do it again,” Hamish whispered.
“I rather doubt I—”
“Chuck it in the air, then! Throw it behind any one of these bloody trees.” He spread his arms wide, indicating the clearing as a whole. “I’ll show you how much of a fluke that
