[The Bronze Wood] First Time for Everything (Sturlin)

[Eris]

A small part of her was amused and a little relieved that he had chosen to treat Rhine with politeness. So few people realized how much like a person a horse could be, how much better than a person in so many ways…

She understood what he meant, of course. She would never divulge her techniques to anyone, least of all, a stranger. Even, Joel, when formally teaching her the art of the dagger, was reluctant to mention some of his tricks.

“I understand,” she said, inclining her head slightly. She lapsed into silence for a moment before speaking, “You spoke of a stigma attached to magicians before. Now that I think on it, I do remember magic always being spoken of in hushed tones. But I had assumed that it was simply due to the ignorant nature of the speakers. Surely a lot of good can come of these magical abilities, so why do so many look upon it unfavorably?”

She wondered briefly if it the man’s scars had anything to do with this dangerous conjuring elements business. If they did, then it was a heavy price to pay for magic. She had gotten a fair amount of injuries when training, but ever only one noticeable scar. She ran the fingers of her hand against her palm, feeling the familiar thin indentation. It would, of course, be terribly impolite to ask, no matter how curious she might be.

[Sturlin]

His left hand reached up to trace the scars on the left side of his face. The jacket, vest, and pants hid similar marks all down his left side. Her guess had been correct. "Magic is powerful. Like any power it is not good or evil. It is whatever its master is. Imagine a normal man who could conjure fire. A normal man is jealous. He is wrathful. He is petty. What would he do with this fire? What wouldn't he do with this fire?"

"Magic holds its own dangers for the user as well. Like a sword, or a dagger. Any edge can cut the hasty wielder. Magic is more difficult to wield properly. Like an unbalanced blade. It changes the flow of its direction on a whim. Sometimes the magician cannot avoid the blow. This danger is present even for the most experienced. No magician can overcome this."

"It is for these reasons that magic is spoken of in hushed tones. The ignorant may fear magic. Mostly because people fear the unknown. Those who know magic always fear it. The truth is more terrible than the fantasy. I have seen the truth. I do not like it. As I said, though, I am chained by it. Magic is in my nature."

He opened his mouth as if to speak. The sudden flow of words was out of character for him, but it was not entirely unintentional. The confessions and ramblings had helped him say things he had longed to utter aloud for a long while. At the same time he was able to do so without imparting too much information. It would be best for any potential threat to overestimate him than know his true strength. It also would be unpleasant to have her question him about the strain of magic on the sanity of magicians. Always a good idea to save a few nuggets of information for later. With a shrug he closed his mouth.

[Eris]

This was the longest she has yet heard the man speak. One of his phrases that echoed in her mind long after he had finished speaking: Magic is my nature. Being chained by one’s nature – she knew the feeling to some extent. It had started during the past few months and had been building up ever since. She was feeling more and more sickened by her job, starting to doubt her right to kill even the most dangerous and cruel people.

That day when she had seen the Dhani - she believed he was called Sasin – kill a target in the most cruel way imaginable… It had sent her mind reeling and she had been looking for other options ever since. But she knew that she had to do what she did. There were so many reasons – her father, a need for money, the fact that she enjoyed fighting with her dagger… And then, there was her nature. Was it really her nature to kill?

She felt a chill run down her spine and stayed silent, lost in her own unpleasant thoughts as her fingers continued to trace the thin line running across her palm.

[Sturlin]

The silence was not uncomfortable for Sturlin. Aside from his recent explanations he often went the better part of a season without speaking to anyone other than Mr. Pickles. With his hands resting folded in his lap now he waited for her to say something. It was unlikely that he would wait for ever, but it was possible that he would wait for over an hour if necessary.

His only attempt to break her thoughts was when he reached forward and retrieved another piece of deer jerky from the oilcloth resting between them. As he did so he gripped the cloth and pushed it a little closer to her, silently offering her a bite once more. Perhaps she had trailed off because she was hungry. He knew that hunger could be quite distracting.

[Eris]

Eris felt rather than saw something move in front of her and her thoughts receded for a moment. She watched Sturlin move the meat closer, deciding that eating something wouldn't hurt. With a slight smile of thanks she reached for the jerky. She took a bite, slowly chewing the meat and savoring the taste. It wasn’t bad, certainly much better than she would have expected from a lone man. In her experience, men couldn’t cook.

“Tastes good,” she commented, “Did you hunt for it yourself or buy it someplace?”

[Sturlin]

"Hunted for myself. It only tastes good because I have been practicing. Most of my cooking is horrible. All of it really. Drying and salting is different. Glad you like it." He chewed the last bit of what he had taken and swallowed it. "Are you a finder? Your profession I mean. You do not strike me as a woman sent to retrieve packages. Unless those packages are pried from fingers. Dead fingers. No offense intended."

"Its just that out here things are simple. People don't look for other people, specifically. Unless one has something the other wants. People rarely give up what they have. That's where brigands come from."

[Eris]

Eris arched an eyebrow at his question. Was it that obvious, then? Then again, she supposed the dagger did give it away. She bit off another piece of the jerky, buying some time while she figured out how much she was willing to tell the man. She spoke only once she’d finally finished chewing.

“You could say I’m a finder of sorts. I am mostly after people themselves rather than their possessions, this case being the rare exception. And yes, sometimes those people end up dead,” she said matter-of-factly.

[Sturlin]

"Not my first choice of profession. Not my second either. But then again I'm not at all what I would like to be. We do what we can. With what we can. Not much else we can do. Do you enjoy your job? Killing is a tedious business. I would not know how you feel though. I rarely do it on purpose." An ominous way to end a sentence. As if aware of this fact, his face went stony when he finished speaking.

He had not expressed any outward signs of distaste at her admission. His own father had been the sort of person who killed people for pleasure. At least killing people for money could be justified by saying, "Hey, I needed the money."

[Eris]

Eris’s lips twitched in a smile as he concluded speaking. It was nice to know he mostly killed by accident.

“I enjoy wielding a dagger. I enjoy trailing a target, hunting the target down, knowing that I am close to completing a job… But I do not enjoy the actual killing. Seeing the life drain out of someone is never pleasant. It is better to fight a well-matched opponent and kill them with a single strike in the end, rather than watch an unarmed person bleed to death.” she said.

“Most often, I only accept jobs from those who have a just cause for wishing the target dead or else, the target has committed a serious crime for which he or she was not punished. Then again, who am I to judge? I kill because I do it well and because I need to survive,” And because of my father. Wouldn’t want to forget about that, would we now? But the last thing she wanted was to remind herself of that foolish little mission of hers that she hasn’t abandoned for the last two years.

[Sturlin]

"One of the ruthless laws of Mizahar. Those with power are the only ones who can judge. You can do what you want because you are good at it. Who could stop you? Not many out here could stop me from doing what I want. No one would try. My tastes are not exotic. No reason to bother me. I suppose if there was a just cause..." He trailed off, clearly having forgotten his point.

"I apologize. Not sure where I was going with that. Sometimes I lose track of conversation. I agree with quick death. Much less agony for both parties." Folding his hands in his lap he looked at her, and then he looked to Rhine. He had decided that he liked both of them. Saying that might seem a little odd though. Especially if she planned to kill him. After what had happened during his last experiment he would not blame her if someone had found out and offered her a large sum of mizas.