Chapter 1 - A new day and new tricks

CHAPTER 1

A new day and a new trick

He wriggled in his thin linen sheet, clawing for thoughts other than what today held. They escaped him though. Although the sun light was beaming through his wooden window panes that held no glass, his feet felt the chill of the crisp morning air and was a more than welcome distraction. His thoughts strayed away from the feelings of temperature. He stopped squirming in his sheets and stared mindlessly at the beautifully carved ceiling decorated in wonderful animals and mythical creatures that his father had made for him. It warmed his heart but at the same time saddened it and the feeling of loss crashed down into the centre of his soul. The thought of leaving his family brought sadness but the slim chance of what this day could hold also held a slither of joy in his stomach filled with fear. The whirlpool of emotions started to frustrate him and he threw down his sheets on the floor and lay naked upon his floor mattress.

Again the light from the wooden window captured his attention as it illuminated the array of paintings and drawings that cluttered his walls. Many of the pictures had become worn and lost their yellow colour and now curled at the edges, some had even become an off colour brown. His eye caught on the one of his paintings. It had been a long time since it really caught his attention, which was strange since so many had complimented the quality of his drawing on that particular piece. The paper showed his family. Although sketched, the picture was pretty accurate, his tall father stood at the back with defined features with lightly sketched dark hair with flecks of grey streak throughout it. His father had been an incredibly handsome young man with a lean and muscular body from working on fishing boats all of his life. His fathers hand was gently hooked at his mother’s waist. She was a beautiful woman, her hair sketched lightly to replicate her golden curls. Her soft features, still the same today, void of aging it seemed to show a beautiful mothering face. She had a long neck and a petite figure, and would always seem to be lost when his father held her tightly in his arms. Below his adoring parents stood his two little sisters, twins who held the beauty of their mother and personality of their father. They were feisty, full of humour and had a naughty streak which was always amplified when they were around one another, and they were always around each other. Although the picture was drawn years ago, the sight brought tears to his eyes. He gently stood up from his mattress and swept his sheet to the wall and stepped forward to the picture. His hand gently stroked the edge of the paper as a tear fell from his eye and dropped to the floor. Today could mean never seeing his family again, and although they would be proud, could he cope leaving his everything at the age of nineteen?

In almost an hour after returning to his mattress and lying still watching the sun’s light creep up the wall, he let fond memories wash over him, at one point he found him self laughing when recalling the time his mother fell off the families fishing boat. She had screamed so loud thinking a Tooan fish was going to eat her feet until his father had manipulated the water to lift her out and back on to the boat. Thinking of the Power of Water returned the sense of dread again and he instantly became aware of his powers. His dad was the strongest Water Mathrin in the village, and not many in the nearby cities could better him. However, he had never been chosen, and was able to stay on this planet with his family, live a happy life and fall in love. Some of the things he may never get to do after today. Because of his strength his father had always been able to find high paying men to hire him, and as a result the family had been fortunate to live very well off. His Father had spent a long time teaching him all he knew about the power of Water and his own skills were almost equal to his fathers now. Of course, his father had also taught him as much as he could about the other powers of the universe, but he had rarely seen any used and had never left the continent, let alone the planet.

“Zain! Are you awake yet?” his mothers voice boomed just outside the door. Whether he was genuinely asleep or even if she knew he was awake, she felt the need to shout never the less. “By the creators breath, if your not up on a day like today, I swear you’re a living corpse”, she never usually swore, but no doubt she was as anxious as Zain was about the days events.

“I am awake Mum, I will be out in a second. Let me just get dressed”, he tried to sound chirpy for her and his own sake. He couldn’t let his family see that he was worried, or scared; it would concern them all and his Father would be ashamed. He opened his cupboard and pulled out his finest clothes for the ceremony. He pulled on his soft silk blue trousers that were patterned along the left leg with a white intricate tribal pattern. Half way up the leg in stunning embroidery was the symbol of Seeth, Zain’s home planet, honouree home to the God Maya, God of Water, oceans, peace and tranquillity. The embroidery seemed to be a double perfect circle, delicately woven in white and gold. Inside the circle it seemed waves of water were running around the inner edge and directly in the middle a man was stitched sitting crossed legged with his arms up in front his chest. Both of his hands were close together, with tips of his fingers pressed into the palm of the opposite hand, which seemed to create a further circled shape. Finally inside this opening between the mans hands there were three droplets of water in a circle, that seemed to be stitched to appear as if they also were moving in a circle. Zain always appreciated the art work of their planets symbol, it filled him with pride and the white and gold image of the man filled him with inspiration. In school Zain had seen all of the other planets symbols, all incredibly well made and designed thousands of years ago. Each and everyone displayed an image of the planet’s honouree God, and Zain’s teacher had told him that the pose of the God symbolises a different emotion or stance regarded with the power. He pulled on his long sleeved white shirt, the only one that he owned. White was not a very common colour to wear in this continent because of the high level of manual labour, it would only get ruined. However, for today’s ceremony it was tradition to wear white, this was to show that you were up for testing. The shirt fit snugly and was crisp and well pressed by his mother since he last wore it over a year ago for his grand mamma’s funeral. Another drop of depression washed over him thinking his grandmamma. He pushed away the sad memories and focused on getting dressed. After putting on his well woven cooth sandals, he took out his most prized piece of clothing from the draw. The Dalath was fine piece of silk clothing wore by men only on Seeth. It appeared to look like half a jacket with only one sleeve. Zain pulled his left arm through the long blue sleeve with a thin cuff and put his head through the opening and let the silk fall down his back below his bottom, while the front side dropped from his right shoulder diagonally down towards his left side meeting the back of the garment. Similar to his trousers the Dalath’s left arm was patterned in a similar tribal pattern. On it’s elbow the continent’s symbol was stitched in silver and a light sky blue which was a contrast against the dark ocean colour of the rest of the Dalath.

Once Zain was fully dressed he made his way out into the corridor and checked his reflection in the mirror. He hadn’t drawn himself in the picture of his family, yet standing in front of the long rectangular mirror he was the perfect blend of his parents. His face held his father’s strong masculine features but his mothers soft green eyes seemed to stare back at him. He ran his fingers through his course dark hair that had been flattened from lying still on his pillow, and gave it a ruffled look that he preferred. He took a deep breath and ensured his face looked relaxed before making his way for breakfast. He entered the small kitchen with its wooden walls and ceiling that had been painted yellow, his mother’s favourite colour. A rounded window above the ceramic sink let in the warm sunlight and brightened the room further. The cabinets and draws, all built by his father’s own hand ran around the rectangular room. Many of the cupboards were caved with fanciful patterns or animals, some still unfinished. His father had always had an eye for art and sculpting, and Zain has always supposed that was where his own talent had come from.

In the centre of the room a large wooden table sat proudly. To Zain the table was the heart of the home and many of his most favourable memories good and bad had been at this table. Now his mother sat there with his twin sisters all eating there breakfast. The smells of fresh Toyle fruit filled Zains nose and his stomach called in response. The country was famous for the wonderful fruit that their soil was able to produce, and his father’s well paid job ensured their table was never empty of the freshest food. Zain took his usual place at the table and helped himself to a whole Toyle and began to slice it into thin pieces, and carefully ensuring the poisonous skin was completely peeled off. Zain would have had to have been the most brainless Barabon to not notice the atmosphere in the room. His mother kept her eyes down cast staring into her porridge and taking small mouthfuls every now and again. Obviously she was lost in thought about what the ceremony might hold today. His sister’s Keera and Lea, now both nine years of age were oblivious to the situation and were enjoying teasing each other with the poisonous peel of one the Toyle. Both of Zain’s sisters were the spitting image of their mother. Their hair didn’t quite reach below their shoulders yet, unlike their mother’s who’s spilled gracefully to the bottom of her spine. Keera’s hair was a vivid blonde that was littered with highlights like their mother. Lea on the other hand, had the dark hair like Zain and their father. It surly made them easy to distinguish. Both girls wore their best dresses, both identical of course. They were traditional summer dresses that were pleated neatly and fell just below the knees. Each dress had Seeth’s symbol clearly stitched on to the left chest in gold and white embroidery. More of his mother’s wonderful stitching.

Zain’s attention shifted to his mother, and he put down the fruit that he was about to devour and stretched out his hand gently resting it on her arm. Her head rose and tear filled eyes met his. Her golden curled fringe fell in to place sweeping to the left curving down her face until it blended with the rest of her hair. Zain swallowed his emotions for her sake, and forced a small smile on to his face. His mother mirrored the smile and she wiped away the tears from her eyes using her other hand.

“It will be fine mum” Zain spoke in a quiet tone, to avoid grabbing his sister’s attention while they were distracted, and with his Dad being out of the room it was a good opportunity to show some emotion about what the day could hold.

“I know, darling. What ever happens… I… want you to know that…that you’re” she had almost regained composure but still words still escaped her.

“That I am the air in your lungs, and the wind that clears the skies so that the sun may shine on you.” Zain finished her sentence. He knew it as sure as he knew his own name; she whispered those words to him more times than he could remember. To Zain those words seemed to mean more than “I love you” ever could.

“I won’t be picked Mum, I’m not even as strong as Dad really, and he is the strongest in town and stronger than most in any of the nearby towns or cities.” He hoped his reassuring tone helped calm her.

“You know I cannot sense your power, but your father speaks highly of how much you have progressed in the last year. He says you have managed to do in a year what took him nearly three.” She replied her eyes still fixed on Zain’s. They were filled with worry but something else, something more. Love perhaps?

“I don’t particularly remember the last ceremony Mum, but I have heard that from the entire planet only seventy eight were selected. And only fifty four of them were Water Mathrin. Also I heard Zack’s father reciting the numbers of the last twelve ceremonies, and each time the number has decreased. So I reckon the chances are stacked against me Mum.” Another warm smile for her benefit, or maybe it was for him. Zain did begin to wonder who he was trying to convince.

All of a sudden his father burst through the large wooden door that led to the back yard and sunlight and a small draft swept into the room. Keera and Lea promptly seemed to become the best behaved children in existence, each offering to help cut the others fruit and discussing who would wash the bowls up this morning. It was not that Zain’s father was strict or expected perfect behaviour of his family; in fact he was a very light hearted and jolly man. He was Zain’s role model in life and Zain could wish for nothing more than to walk in his father’s foot steps. However, his father did have standards and traditions that must be up kept as the man of the house, and Zain’s sisters were fully aware of that table manners were a high priority in their father’s expectations of family life. Upon his entrance Zain noticed the feel of the Power of Water being held. He glanced towards his father and eyes that sparkled and gleamed in vivid blues that looked back at him with a cheeky smile just touching them.

“Son, I have something for you!” his father never was a quiet man and confidence always seemed to pour from him. He walked around the kitchen and took his seat next to his wife. For a moment, but perhaps longer his gaze caught hers. One of his hands found hers and their littlest fingers cupped around each other. It was a symbol of their love. One of those bizarre things couples did, but to Zain’s memory they had done that small gesture every day of their lives. “But first, how is my heart and soul this morning?” referring to his wife, Zain’s dad still made him feel queasy with some of his lovey-dovey lines.

“Wonderful, my only” she lied, and he lent forward and kissed her forehead firmly before turning his gaze upon Lea and Keera. “What about my angels? Hmm?” The girls who had been since his arrival quietly eating their fruit looked up at him with the most innocent eyes possible. They were going to cause mayhem for men when they were older. Breath, they were doing it already.

In remarkable unison they replied with a “fine thank you Daddy” and returned to their breakfast. Then his father’s gaze settled upon him again.

“How about my champion? Ay? How are you this morning son?” Zain nodded with a smile and mumbled a similar response that his sisters gave.

“What have you got for me Dad?” he didn’t want to sound pushy, but his father still held his power in a high volume, and just the sense of it made Zain want to connect with it as well. The biggest smile Zain had seen burst on to his father’s face and he turned in his seat to look at the sink. Zain watched his father jerk his hand just above his head then gently lower it. As he did a stream of water began pouring out of the metal tap, and instead of falling into the ceramic sink it began to collect into a sphere in the air just below the tap. The stream eventually stopped and his father turned back around and the water floated quickly to the middle the table.

“Son, I am going to teach you one final trick. It is officially the last thing I think I can teach you now. Today you will know everything I know and will go on to become a more powerful Water Mathrin, I just know it”, the pride on his face brought back the dread in Zain’s stomach. He kept his composure though. “Now, bear in mind I cannot do this very well myself with too much water. In fact I reckon this is the most I can use”, he stated with eyes now staring at the orb of water floating above his palm. Zain noted that Keera was still occupied with her fruit but Lea was watching intently her dark hair shining in the sunlight. He continued in a more serious tone “Now son, I want you to watch carefully how I do this. I’m sure the Martarana Masters and Elders will teach you how to do it better, but it’s a start right?”, Zain had no response but focused on his Father and the orb.

“What are you going to do?”, his mother’s sudden out burst surprised Zain, but fulfilled the question he hadn’t actually thought to ask.

“I am going to show him how to freeze water, my heart”. Zain nearly gasped out loud. Freeze water? When did his father learn this? He had never done it before? Zain returned to watching intently. His Father took a deep breath in. His hand moved slightly forward as his breath exhaled slowly, and to his astonishment Zain watched the orb of water crystallize into ice starting from one side, creeping all the way around until it became a solid lump. Once complete the ball dropped into his father’s hand to which he rolled across the wooden table to Zain. “Pretty cool ay son? I have been saving that one till last. Only discovered it a year or so gone.” Pride and ego filled his voice, but Zain suspected it was pride that he could pass it on to his son.

“That is amazing Dad, how? How? Did you learn to do that?” Zain said with admiration in his voice and holding the solid sphere of ice in his palm. He squeezed it and could tell that it was solid right to its centre.

“Its quite tricky, but you should be able to pick it up easily son.” His Dad replied and Zain could hear the confidence in his voice. “Right, I will do it again. Embrace the power and watch closely.” He turned and pulled another sphere of water from the tap. By now his mother had begun clearing the table with help from Keera. Lea however, was still staring intently at the water above her father’s hand. Zain focused on his breath and focused on connecting with the power of water. Connecting to one of the powers was different for each individual person Zain had learnt in school. Some people sensed their power around them all the time, others could only connect and disconnect to it if they imagined it in a box or chest which they could open. For Zain he connected like his father had taught him. He imagined just walking under a waterfall and the crash of water drenching his body. The power poured into his body like a tidal wave. It coursed through his veins. Zain could feel the power right to the edge of his flesh. Any part of his body he focused on was coursing with the Power of Water. His eyes began to glitter in a range blue shades. To Zain the water in his fathers hand sung to him. It called to be controlled. Zain could sense water else where around them. The drips from the tap that he didn’t previously notice now sound like heavenly chimes in his ear. Just beyond the house he could sense the large lake not far from his home. Zain couldn’t explain the feeling even if he tried. He just knew the water was there, could smell it, he could feel it.

“Are you ready son?” his dad blinked at him with a cheeky grin on his face. “Take some water from the tap”. Following his father’s command Zain raised his hand pointing towards the tap and felt the water inside the pipes that ran out through the walls and connected to the roof of the house where the water was collected from rainfall. Zain felt a connection to the water and balanced out how much he needed. He drew out the water through the pipe, and within a second a small mass of water trickled from the tap, mimicking what Zain’s father had done. The now orb of water floated towards Zain’s upturned palm and sat still as stone waiting to be controlled.

“Okay, now what Dad?” Zain said returning his eyes to his fathers. Now that he was filled with the power he could feel his father’s connection, just as he could sense the water in the surrounding area. It felt like a steady steam of energy pouring down just from above his head, similar to sitting under a waterfall Zain thought. He knew that sensing another person’s ability was based on perception, that every Water Mathrin’s ability he sensed would feel the same, the only difference being the flow of their strength. Being a Water Mathrin Zain would only be able sense people of the same power. The only other hint of a different person’s power would be the shift in their eye colour when they embraced their power. “It isn’t to difficult Son.” He stated with that cheeky grin. “You have to tighten the Water if that makes sense?” he raised his other hand and clenched his fingers slightly as if squeezing a ball. “First, find a starting point in the water. A tiny piece like the head of a needle will do”, again gesturing his spare hand, pointed towards the side of his orb of water. “Then, focus some of your power as that point and let it expand through and around the water. At the same time use that energy to make all the water compact, like you would with a snow ball” he said staring intently at his own orb of water. “This will make the water more solid”, Zain could see now being connected to the power the tightening water in his father’s hand. “And finally, use one last pulse of energy with an exhaled breath to force the water to freeze”, and instantly as he finished his sentence with his exhaling breath the water began to freeze exactly from he had pointed. Once again the water rippled into solid ice. The cheeky smile returned to his father’s face with a glitter in his eye watching Zain more intently than he had when performing the freezing ability. “your turn”, he said calmly.

Zain took a deep breath while glancing from his farther to Lea, who still couldn’t seem to remove her eyes from what was happening. It was strange, Lea had never took an active interest in the powers before today, this was mainly because the girls were too young to connect to a power let alone even be tested for it yet. Most children, if they were gifted enough, wouldn’t be able to be tested for their power until they were ten years of age, and many couldn’t connect until they were around thirteen years old.

Zain focused intently on the ball. Found a point on the face of the orb and flooded power into it. The power poured all around the water and Zain forced it to condense. At this point the orb already felt like a solid lump to Zain’s senses. Finally he took a breath and just as his father said pushed a solid lump of power directly into the water. Before Zain’s eyes the water crystallized instantly into one solid lump of ice. It didn’t take a couple of seconds like his father’s had, or ripple from one side to the other. One second it was water, the next it was ice. At the same instant Zain’s connect to the sphere snapped away and the now icy lump fell into his hand. The lump didn’t sing to be controlled anymore. In fact he didn’t think he could do anything with it now that it was ice. However, Zain’s mouth hung open, shocked that he done it first time, and more amazed that he had found it so easy. “By the creator’s breath Dad, I did it!” he looked up towards his dad’s eyes again, and his face was a picture.

“Son, you… you did it so easily” he said seeming to be just as shocked as Zain. “I’m so proud of you boy”, with tears glittering in his still ocean gleaming eyes. “You’re going to be such a powerful Mathrin, and take the family name of Gracen to the history books”. Zain felt that pride pour from his father and it filled his heart, and tears tried to crawl into his eyes, but he held them back. He wouldn’t cry in front of his father. Not today.