Alph looked over at Emil, who was still processing the new information. "Is your grandfather still at the house, or did he leave for the meeting hall?"
Emil blinked, pulled from his thoughts. "He left with Uncle Borin a while ago. Said they had things to discuss. If you want to see him, he'll be at the hall."
Astrid, having re-wrapped the cloth around her hand, stood up with a sniffle. "I was supposed to be heading that way anyway," she said, managing a watery smile. "Mom needed me to drop off some extra salves for their stores. I just... got sidetracked."
Alph nodded, a sense of purpose returning. "Alright then," he said, pushing himself to his feet. "Let's go together."
The trio left the small cottage, their boots making soft crunching sounds in the fresh snow. Astrid and Emil chattered quietly, their conversation a mixture of awe and nervous excitement about Alph's awakening. Alph, however, walked in a thoughtful silence.
His mind replayed the events in the yard. The perfect formation of the ice sword, followed by its explosive dissolution. The intricate creation of the gauntlet, undone by a single moment of shock. Twice he had succeeded, and twice he had failed. The common denominator was clear: concentration.
A surge of emotion—excitement, then panic—had broken the spell. It was a critical flaw. In the quiet of his backyard, the only consequence was a startled gasp and a minor frostburn. In a real fight, against a hardened mercenary, such a lapse would be fatal. The image of the ice sword shattering in his hand, leaving him defenseless before a real blade, was a sobering one.
He needed a solution. A way to maintain his focus, to shield his magic from the chaotic storm of his own emotions. The problem felt immense, a barrier as tall as the mountain itself. But with the thought came a flicker of hope. Hemlock. The old druid, with his centuries of wisdom and mastery over his own potent abilities, might have an answer. He had to.
With this new anticipation quickening his step, Alph ventured toward the meeting hall. As they neared the path leading to her family's cottage, Astrid stopped.
"You promise you'll show me more later, right?" she asked, her eyes wide and earnest despite her still-sore fingers. "The real stuff. At our usual spot this evening?"
A small smile touched Alph's lips. "I promise."
She grinned, then hurried off to finish her errand. Emil also peeled away as they passed his home. "I should go check on my sister," he said, giving Alph a thoughtful, appraising look before he left.
Alph walked the final stretch alone. He pushed open the heavy wooden door to the meeting hall and stepped inside. The air was warm, smelling of pine and old embers. Hemlock and Borin stood before the large stone slab table, looking down at a worn, hand-drawn map of the mountain and its surrounding territories.
Hemlock looked up as Alph entered. He gestured with a gnarled hand to an empty spot on the bench nearby. "Boy. Sit."
Alph did as he was told, waiting patiently.
The old druid finished his quiet conversation with Borin, who gave Alph a gruff nod before departing, then turned his full attention to the boy. His ancient eyes were searching, perceptive. "How are you feeling now? Is the fatigue gone?"
Alph nodded. "Yes, Teacher. I feel... clear."
"Good." A knowing smile touched Hemlock's lips. "And now you have questions. About control."
It wasn't a question. Before Alph could even affirm it, Hemlock pushed himself to his feet. "Come. A lesson is not learned sitting by a fire."
The old druid led him out a side entrance, away from the village center and onto a steep, snow-covered path that wound up the mountainside. After a brisk climb, they arrived at a familiar, flat clearing. A large, grey boulder sat on one side, a silent sentinel overlooking Oakhaven. Alph had played here countless times as a child, but the panoramic view of the seven small cottages nestled in the snow now seemed different, more fragile.
Hemlock stopped in the center of the clearing and turned to Alph. "You can perceive the elements now, boy. Describe what you sense."
Alph closed his eyes, focusing on the new, innate perception. "The green thrum of the forest below. The deep, slow pulse of the stone beneath my feet. And the frost... the frost is everywhere. A silver song in the air."
"Good," Hemlock said again. "You have the 'mana heart', a wellspring of power. You have the 'mana', the energy you can draw from it. But these things are the quiver and the arrow. Without a bow to aim them, they are useless. That bow, boy, is the 'spell module'."
He tapped his own chest. "To control your magic, to stop your own feelings from shattering your creations, you must learn to build that bow. You must learn to construct a stable spell module in your mind."
"Show me," Hemlock said, his voice quiet. "The magic that troubles you."
Alph nodded. He took a deep breath, pushing aside the memory of his earlier failures and the sting of Astrid's pained cry. He focused on the cool, humming core within him, on the feeling of control. He extended his left forearm, palm flat.
This time, he pictured something simpler. Not a sword or a complex gauntlet, just a small, round shield. He drew a thread of mana from his core and pushed it outward, a silent command to the frost in the air and the snow at his feet.
The elements responded. Snow swirled up, clinging to his forearm. It did not explode into form, but rather wove itself together, compressing under the guidance of his will. The air grew sharp with cold as a small, sturdy buckler of milky-white ice took shape, strapped securely to his arm. It was solid, stable.
Hemlock watched, his ancient eyes missing nothing. A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest. "To manifest a stable form with no true spell module, to shape the elements on instinct alone... your innate grasp of your craft is strong, boy. Very strong indeed."
"But instinct is a wild thing," Hemlock continued, letting the ice buckler on Alph's arm dissipate into fine powder. "It is a river without banks. Your joy made it, your shock unmade it. To truly command your power, you must give the river its banks. You must build the module."