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2026-07-10 00:31:23
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Foundling 11 Predator and Prey
“. . . how long have you been at this?”“Off and on for several months . . . , furrows broke his brow and his dimples deepened, “. . . maybe on near six months. Not every day, but near so twice a week around my duties.”“There is little time, except for duty, now-a-days.”“Now-a-days.” Kim abruptly stood, impatiently brushing the pine needles from her skirts. She stretched out her hand to pull him up after her. “Do you think it’s not time to see if the bow can meet its task?”He studied that hand, unblemished, unworked, long, slender fingers, deeply grooved palm. He hesitated to stain it with his. What could he object to? Had he not done all this, cured the ailment in him as well as in the bow. Was he not ready for this? All to their time comes a testing. It was a thing his mother spoke to him, but did not share.Immediately! ki began to sing along Hunter’s hand, up his wrist, like goosebumps but stronger, dissipating halfway up his forearm.“Still have not mastered the first.”Hunte
Foundling 10 Mother's Bow
Upon his initial arrival at the valley, Hunter was surprised at how few people were there, but as time went by, voices began to fill the area. Those that came their way waived or smiled, and Hunter gave a nod of recognition while Kim smiled in return. Hunter recognized most but there were quite a few he did not.The little time he had been here many new students had been admitted, with only one among them being a novice to the ranks of Magi. Many of the disparities in classrooms Hunter had come to learn was the result of the separation between general knowledge being taught and those classes teaching the skills a novice Magi would need.The idea of teaching students, other than those aspiring to Magi was a novel one, but one that Master Giles was adamant about implementing. Hunter had heard the grumbling, the discontent from some of the Masters and, also, the approbation from others—the majority. It was explained to Hunter (by Poe) that it was a way to become entrenched with the commo
Foundling Mother's Bow
Alone in the room the others had fled to relieve their restlessness, though he was no less restless than they, Hunter fingered the bow, one of the last remnants, along with the blood pearl necklace, of his mother, a life formerly lived. The necklace could manage itself, not so the bow.Ranging its surface with the slightest of strokes, memories, and a cascade of emotions, flowed into him from the yew. The deaths his mother had wrought to feed and clothe them, to protect and honor them, resided there. The woodsmoke from the hearth, the pain of her departure and the rage he could not control resulting from that, resided there. Sorrow resided there. A myriad of emotions and memories resided there. He drew comfort from them to deaden the pain of loss that had dimmed over time, but which could not be deadened. He found comfort in that too because he realized that as long as he had the bow he could always recapture those feelings.While recalled to mind, the memories and emotions roused gav
Foundling 8 Secrets (2)
“Secrets best kept are not those widely known.”“Neither are conspiracies.”“Conspiracies for whose sake?”“For us all.”“What is the old axiom? ‘Power is only power when it is used.”The Magister gave a slash of his robed arm, scoffing at the notion of such naivete, contemptuous of it.“What should be undone? It was you that discovered them both. You are bound to this far more deeply than I. Are you not at the center of this power you speak of. That must not be used.”Another discussion between them unresolved, never to be resolved. Poe did not believe in happenstance, found it too untidy to be at play, and what he had experienced was not happenstance that was eating at him, draining him almost from the start.Another secret that could not be told, nor known by any.“That is not what I said.”The Magister, with a preemptive motion rose from where they were sitting and went to one of the cabinets on the wall. Poe felt a twinge of anticipation lighten the gloominess of his mood.A beau
Foundling 8 Secrets
Poe and the Magister were relaxing in the Magister’s room. A fire roared, and sparks flew from sizzling sap popping in the heat, the scent of pine and honeycomb pervading the room. A road table was between them on which rested two earthenware chalices, cup stained and aged by years of use, filled with mulled wine warmed by iron spikes resting in the flame. The Magister liked it so, the scent of pine and honeycomb. “He seems to be acclimating himself fairly well,” the Magister said into the gap of silence that did not want to be filled and for which the Magister found some bit of regret even as he spoke. But the conversation needed to be had, and things needed to be said. To distract himself, he reached forward to pull one of the spikes from the flame and quench it in his cup which hissed and steamed in protest. Poe pulled a draw on his pipe to swell the lungs and fire the chest and brain from the rush to the head and exhaled a vaporous plume tha
Foundling 7 Vital Essence
That took some getting used, but before long he was able to impel himself through the water and Kim had to step back a little more briskly.They both laughed and beamed at his accomplishment until Kim abruptly relinquished his hands. Hunter floundered, smacking and clawing at the water. As his head dipped below the surface, he went to plant his feet where normally would been lake bottom . . . and nothing. Panicking, gulping air and then water, he felt Kim’s hands close on his wrists like a vice. Pulling him headfirst, she yanked him from the water. “Relax,” she soothingly said. “You can still stand up.” She demonstrated by tapping her instep to the bottom of his foot which followed hers to the lake bottom.He had not noticed where the water had been waist high, it was now chest high.“It’s when you fight it that it takes you under,” she said when he calmed. “Don’t fight it. Use your own motion to ride the water’s surface.”She took to sliding him, curving him into spins, creating sha
Foundling 18 Sharing (3)
The turnings of the boy’s mind no longer surprised Poe, but still he had to adjust to the abrupt and direct thrust of his manner. There was no dissembling to the boy, which would profit him and be a refreshing change to the guarded manner of many at the School, but others would not like the boy’s p
Foundling 18 Sharing (2)
Darkness spread as the sun slipped below the horizon. Poe’s thighs were going numb from sitting astride the broad shoulders of the matoskah, and its rolling gait was starting to make the fabric of his pants chafe his thighs. That was an immediate problem, but because they no longer traveled by foot,
Foundling 18 Sharing (1)
He felt strange, hot and cold, jumbled, mixed up, sensations unlike anything he had ever felt before, runnels of emotion coming in waves, churning his gut. He focused on the familiar hollow at the center of his being as the ebb and flow of unfamiliar sensation washed over old memories. Memories of h
Foundling 17 Testing (2)
The next day Poe talked more of the School. What Hunter could anticipate, what would be expected of him, trying to explain tradition and custom, values and taboos without some common point of reference. The boy occasionally made terse comments or asked probing questions regarding certain points of
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