Master Alred settled himself down on a patch of soft clover and leaned his back against a wide tree trunk. "Alright now, Soren," he said, "Let me see it."
Soren frowned. He hadn’t been expecting a test, first thing in the morning. He hadn’t quite mastered it yet. His hands were still badly blistered from the burns he’d given himself the day before, and he’d been hoping to take a small break from the fire exercise today and work on perfecting his air technique instead. But the master had woken him up before dawn, saying that he was ready to see what kind of progress he had made. "I– It’s not quite perfect yet," he admitted. "I still need to practice."
The master gave a little half-smile. "Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting you to have mastered it already. I simply want to see what you have so far."
Soren nodded. Reluctantly, he plucked a smooth green leaf from the now half-bare shrub at the edge of the clearing. He held it in his hands for a moment, the cool, moist softness of it momentarily soothing the raw flesh of his palms. Then he took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and glared at it. He was concentrating so hard that his eyebrows pushed themselves together and his eyes squeezed themselves into little slits. Every muscle in his body tensed, until he was shaking all over.
And then, quite suddenly, a tower of red-orange flames burst to life in his hands. Soren shrieked as not only the leaf, but also the skin on his fingers and palms, fueled the fire. He tried to make it stop, but he couldn’t concentrate at all through the pain.
Then Master Alred reached out a hand, and just as quickly as it had sprung into existence, the fire died, leaving behind nothing but a bit of smoke in the air, a pinch of ashes, and a pair of shaking, blistering hands.
"You almost have it," the master muttered with an approving nod as he gently took one of Soren’s hands in his and held it palm-up. "You just need to learn to relax and focus your mind better."
Soren couldn’t stop the tears streaming down his face, or the violent shaking of not just his hands, but his whole body. "How can I?" he gasped, "It hurts!"
The master nodded, then bent his head over Soren’s palm, clucking like an old nursemaid. "I have to say," he said as he covered the blistering, oozing flesh with his own hand and closed his eyes, "I am very impressed with your level of self-discipline."
Soren watched his master work, feeling all of the pain in that hand fade away, the blisters pop and drain and recede, the angry redness calm and fade to a soft pink.
"Most new apprentices," Master Alred continued, "would have refused to do it until their burns had healed. Or they would have tried, but they would be unable to do it, the fear of burning too great to overcome."
Soren sighed and relaxed as the master healed his other hand as well, the burns and even the scars from the previous attempts smoothing away. "I didn’t want you to think I was a coward," he said. "I wanted you to see that I’m trying. I’m really trying."
"Of course," the master nodded knowingly as he released Soren’s hands. "You have a lot to prove, not just to me, but to yourself and everyone else." He paused for a moment, then added, "I’m sure you won’t believe me, but you really don’t need to convince me of anything. I took you on because I am confident that you will prove yourself, beyond even your own ambitions. You have more determination than anyone else I know."
Soren stared, amazed, at his hands. The skin on his palms was as perfect and smooth as a fresh-born baby. "I want to learn how to do that," he whispered, then looked up at his master’s face. "Will you teach me to heal?"
Master Alred laughed. "So you want to be a healer?" he said, "Well, first you must learn to master the basic elements. Then once you’ve completed that, I’ll show you how to mend sick and damaged plants."
"Plants?" Soren wasn’t really interested in farming. He wanted to learn how to fix people, like Master Alred had just done.
The master nodded. "Plants," he said. "And once you’ve mastered that, I’ll teach you to heal small animals. If you can manage that much, you might even be allowed to assist with the occasional ox or horse."
Soren sighed. Master Alred definitely wouldn’t be teaching him to smooth away burns anytime soon.
"Once you’ve had a few years’ experience healing animals," the master continued, "I’ll let you assist me with the healing of small injuries and minor illnesses in people. Eventually, you’ll be allowed to handle those kinds of things by yourself and, after a few more years, you might be able to help with the gravely wounded and the seriously ill. If you’re especially gifted, then perhaps you may even learn to mend injuries and ailments of the mind, or even the soul. But that would require a great deal of natural talent, as well as discipline, and that kind of ability is extremely rare."
Soren thought about that. How many years would that take? How long would he have to train, even just to be a normal healer? How many years had Master Alred trained? He wondered.
The master was staring at him. "Is that the path you’ve decided to take?" he asked. "Do you really want to be a healer?"
"I want to learn everything," Soren replied. He didn’t even need to think about it. He’d always known what his real ambition was. "I want to master every discipline there is. I want to be a healer, and a warrior, and a mind-toucher, and a shielder, and a shadow-walker, and a hunter . . . I want to do it all."
Master Alred stared at him for a moment, then laughed. Soren started to get defensive, but then he saw the kindness in his master’s eyes, and noticed the warmth behind the laugh. "You keep that thought in your head and work hard," the master told him, "and someday you just might achieve that dream . . . someday."
