Halfstone: A Tale of the Narathlands by Daniel White Page B

squinted down at small letters
etched into the stone. His heart stopped. It read ‘Isobel Clarice Aedimon’.
This was where Jon had buried his mother.

 
     
     
     
     
    7
    ALLIES
     
     
     
    Aldrick stood before his mother’s grave. The initial shock of
reading her name upon the headstone had subsided, giving way to an unexpected
sense of clarity. He didn’t feel sadness or anger, not resentment for past
events nor bitterness to bear with him in future ones. He was grounded. Here
his mother lay, at his feet, forging a vivid connection between him and the
fantasy world which had been unveiled around him. He found himself. He knew who
he was.
    The flowers adorning the grave were in full bloom even though
their season had come and gone many months ago. It was a sign that Isobel was
here with him, that Gilthred was too. They had never intended to leave him in
this world alone. They hadn’t; their storm was invested in him. It was his to
wield now.
    He stooped, plucked a single blue orchid and rested it on top of
the headstone. His hand lingered there for a moment then he turned and retraced
the path back into the forest. When he re-entered the glade he strode
purposefully toward the boulders but stopped before reaching them. He
outstretched his arm, directed his palm toward the surface of one and closed
his eyes. Slowly, he began to raise his hand. He felt the gravity holding the
boulder to the ground wane as he willed it upward using his own gravitational
push. He could feel the boulder, like it was trying to resist, but he would not
let it. He opened his eyes. There it was, levitating in front of him. His focus
faltered and it began to fall, though at an unnaturally slow speed, back to the
ground.
    “No!” He would not let his achievement be so brief. Again he
raised his hand. The boulder rose in turn. He cast it sideways and it hurtled
into the trunk of one of the dead trees. There was a mighty smash as solid
stone met feeble wood and the tree collapsed. The boulder met ground a short
way beyond it and rolled to a halt at the base of another tree. Aldrick
remained standing, arm outstretched, ogling at what he had done. He took a
series of long, deep breaths. He could do it! He could wield! He had power. It
felt good.
    There were hurried footsteps behind him. Jon burst into the glade
with his staff clenched in his hand. “Aldrick! Aldrick, wha…” His attention
fell upon the felled tree and the absence of the boulder. He relaxed. “Ah, I
had feared the worst, but it appears that clamour was of your making.”
    “Jon, I did it!” Aldrick exclaimed. “I threw the boulder into the
tree!”
    “So I see.” Jon came to his side. “Truly incredible. I am most
impressed, my boy.”
    Télia appeared. She wore an expression more of excitement than
concern. “I felt your storm surge, Aldrick. Have you done it? Have you wielded
your storm?”
    “Yes,” he said, now trying to sound as casual as possible.
    The wide smile he adored so much lit Télia’s face. “That’s
brilliant news. Well done!” She turned and looked at Jon incredulously. “So
much for no wielder being able to achieve such a thing on their first day of
training.”
    “Well I…” Jon began, searching for words. “It’s unheard of, until
today. Young Aldrick here will become a wielder of the highest calibre, to be
sure.”
    Excitement welled inside Aldrick. He could truly wield! He had
found his storm. He yearned to do more. “Are there further abilities you can
teach me, Jon?”
    “Indeed. There is much more I can show you.”
    “Then let’s begin.”
    Jon chuckled. “I remember being in your shoes, Aldrick. The first
time I successfully wielded, all I wanted to do was to do it more. It is a marvellous
thing, having such power.”
    “Don’t let it go to your head,” said Télia.
    Though she spoke light-heartedly, Aldrick could tell her advice
was sincere. He imagined she had experienced the arrogance of wielders. Jon
appeared to be