Fated Mate

Lessons in Fire

Eleanor's cottage was smaller inside than it looked from the outside, but every surface was full of intriguing things-jars of dried herbs, crystals that caught the light, books bound in leather so ancient they looked like they might crumble.

"Sit," Eleanor ordered, nodding toward a cushion on the floor.

At Emily's command, Arthur remained standing by the door while Emily sat compliantly. Eleanor began to wander about the room in a process of amassing-a bowl, a handful of small pouches, what might have been dried blossoms.

"Tell me what you know about your powers," Eleanor said, not looking at Emily.

"I... I don't know much. When I'm scared or angry fire comes from my hands. I did that too, accidentally. My eyes glow sometimes."

Emily twiddled her thumbs. "It's all random. Unpredictable."

Eleanor hummed thinkingly. "What do you want?"

"I want to have a say in it. I want to understand it so I won't hurt anybody."

Eleanor finally faced her, her violet eyes penetrating. "Control is what everybody-who comes to me for guidance seeks. But you can't control what you don't understand. And you can't understand something you fear, " She stepped forward and looked at Emily's face. "You're scared shitless of your own power."

Emily swallowed hard. "Shouldn't I be? I could kill someone."

"You might have the chance to save someone else. You already have." Eleanor sank down on a cushion opposite her. "Magic, power, whatever you want to call it, is not inherently good or evil. It just is. What it comes down to is the wielder's intent, knowledge, and bond with it."

"I don't feel a connection with it. I don't like the feel of something alien in myself."

"Because you are fighting it." Eleanor was stirring the mixture in the bowl. "You've been told your whole life that you're wrong, that there's something wrong with you is cursed. So when power manifests, you turn it away the way you were turned away."

She looked up sharply. "But your power is you, child. To spurn it, is to spurn their very selves."

The words were a blow to Emily. She never thought of it like that.

"So what do I do?" Emily asked quietly.

"You just have to learn to accept yourself. All of yourself." Eleanor pushed the bowl in her direction. "Drink this. It will help you sleep deeply tonight. Tomorrow, your real training starts."

---

Emily woke early the next morning to find Eleanor already outside, sitting on the grass. Arthur was nowhere to be seen, but she could hear the distant sound of an axe.

"Good morning," Eleanor said without opening her eyes. "Sit."

Emily descended to the floor and sat beside her, copying her posture.

"Today we meditate," Eleanor declared.

Emily blinked. "That's it? We're just... going to... sit?"

"Is sitting still too much to ask?" Eleanor opened one eye with a raised eyebrow. "You came here for grand displays of power. But magic isn't like that. You need to learn how to be still first."

"But-"

"Stillness," Eleanor said firmly again. "Close your eyes. Concentrate on your breathing. Breathe in through your nose, breathe out through your mouth. Sense the air as it moves into your lungs and out of your body. Observe the sensations in your body without reacting to them."

Emily shut her eyes, unwilling, and attempted to concentrate on her breathing. In a matter of minutes her mind had wandered. She thought of the vampires, and Theodore, and whether the pack was safe without her there.

"You're thinking too much," Eleanor said. "Back to the breath."

Emily tried again. And again. And again.

By the time Eleanor at last let her go, Emily's legs were cramping and her frustration was rising.

"That's all for today," said Eleanor as she rose with a graceful movement.

"Is that it?" Emily could not keep the disappointment from her voice. "We just sat there all those hours?"

Eleanor's look was patient but firm. "Yes. And we will do so tomorrow. The day after that. Until you can be still."

-----

Arthur had pitched a modest encampment a short distance from the cottage - a tent for sleep, a fire pit for cooking, a spot for washing. He was skinning a rabbit when Emily caught up with him, frustration radiating off her in waves.

"How was training?" he asked.

"We just sat. We sat for hours. We just... sat."

Emily threw her hands up. "I came here to learn how to control my power, and she's making me meditate like some kind of novice."

Arthur smirked. "Maybe that's just what you need."

"You don't understand. There's a war coming, and I'm sitting cross-legged in a garden doing nothing."

Arthur said gently, "You're doing something."

"You're learning patience. Learning to be present." He put the rabbit down and stood up. "You can't hurry this, Emily. Eleanor knows what she's doing."

Emily wanted to argue, but the calm certainty in his voice stopped her. She sighed a sigh of relief. This is just so annoying!".

He drew her against him. " But I know you're strong enough to see this through."

----

It was evening and she was sitting by the campfire, poking at the embers with a stick, when Arthur sat down beside her.

"You're frustrated," he said.

"Oh yeah...I've been here a week and nothing useful has come my way."

'Haven't you?' Arthur asked as he tilted his head. "Your nightmares have stopped. You have not had any power surges out of control since we came," she says. You seem ... calmer."

Emily paused, considering. He is right. The relentless fear that had been her traveling companion for weeks had abated.The tight knot in her chest had loosened.

"I suppose,"

"Eleanor is teaching you precisely what you need to know. Trust the process. Trust her." He took her hand. "Trust yourself."

Emily glanced down at their hands clasped together, at the comforting solidity of his presence. He'd been here every day, silently standing by her side with out putting any pressure on her.

Hunting and upkeep their camp, giving her room to work with Eleanor but so close she could sense he was there.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For staying. For being patient with me."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," Arthur replied simply.

----

The following day she brought a different energy to her meditation. Instead of fighting for stillness, she surrendered to it. Rather than trying to clear her mind, she watched thoughts come and go like clouds.

And something shifted.

Within her she felt something warm – not the raging, endlessly overpowering heat that had come before, but warm and constant. Like a pilot light on hold.

"Good," Eleanor's voice came from beside her. "You're finally listening."

Emily opened her eyes to see the witch beaming at her with pride.

"What is that warmth I'm feeling?"

"Power. It's your natural state. Your power in its natural state. Not living in or pretending not to see fear or anger, just living." Eleanor stood. "Now we can begin the real work."

For the first time since arriving, Emily dared to feel a flicker of real hope. Maybe Eleanor's methods weren't so strange after all. Maybe she really was learning something important.

"What's next?" Emily asked.

Eleanor grinned more broadly. "Now we're gonna teach you how to warm yourself up on demand. Not to get at your fire through emotion, that's fire through emotion, that's fire through will."

Emily stood up, energy flowing through her. After a week of quiescence and patience, she was at last going to advance.

Arthur came out of the woods at the edge of the clearing and when Emily looked into his eyes she saw pride. He had trusted her from the beginning, trusted in Eleanor's method long before Emily had.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back.

"Let's begin," Eleanor said.