The Orphans' Promise by Pierre Grimbert

him.
Everyone
had the ability. Everyone was a
potential
magician. But only patient and determined individuals could understand, develop, and master the ability. The test was merely a battle against one’s own nonchalance.
    Even so, it wasn’t that simple. Everyone knew how to draw, shape clay, or hum, but only a few would become great painters, sculptors, or musicians. The same went for Will. Everyone had the power, several individuals had the necessary patience to learn it, but only a few elite were truly artists.
    The reason Corenn offered to teach Yan was because he had already proved his art by saving Léti from a fatal fall.
    With all her heart, she hoped he would have the patience.

     
    They stopped their conversation at the first sound of footsteps on the staircase. It was odd for Léti’s fighting lesson to be over already. No one said a word. Something must have happened.
    Corenn rushed toward them, faster than she would have wanted to let her friends see. Her gaze immediately fell to the reddened cloth that her niece was pressing to her right hand. And then she did what no one there had seen her do yet. She grew furious. “There you have it! This was bound to happen! I hope you’re happy!”
    She put almost all the blame on Grigán. The touchy warrior fled her stare without responding. He understood her reaction, but it was the first time they had fought. He, who did his best to be indifferent, had been wounded to his very core.
    “It’s fine. No big deal,” Léti said, nonchalantly.
    Corenn’s anger fell away as soon as she spoke. She had reacted as if Léti were nothing more than a child, unjustly wounded, a little girl she needed to protect and comfort. Her niece’s controlled, mature attitude briefly set her off balance.
    “At least, I hope it taught you a lesson,” she commented, anxiously waiting for their response.
    Neither Léti nor Grigán spoke. Rey timidly came to the rescue.
    “You know, Corenn, it was just an accident. If Léti can learn how to defend herself, that should sooner reassure you…”
    “An accident! And if the next time she loses an eye, what will we call that? A misfortune?”
    Léti could no longer hide her irritation.
    “And if the Züu stick a dagger in my stomach without me having the ability to defend myself? A regrettable tragedy?”
    Corenn gaped at Léti. That was a low blow.
    “I’ve had enough of depending on others,” Léti continued, a little calmer. “I want to have a chance at survival, even when there’s no one there to protect me. If we’re attacked again, I want to be able to help Grigán, Rey, and all the others who fight for me. I’ll learn by experience if I have to.”
    Corenn searched the warrior’s eyes to read his opinion. She didn’t know what to do anymore.
    “She gave me the same lecture outside,” he mumbled.
    The Mother paced about to give herself some time to think. At the Council of the Matriarchy, she made decisions that affected entire communities, but she couldn’t even reason with her own niece. The irony!
    “All right. So you’ve already decided that you will fight, no matter what; no matter what we think?”
    “Yes.”
    “Evidently. I suppose in that case, the best course of action would be for Grigán to give you some advice. That is, if he agrees, naturally.”
    “With pleasure,” the warrior announced, happy to get himself out of trouble so easily.
    “Nevertheless, I would like you to do something for me, Léti. Don’t mix yourself up in any real combat until Grigán judges you’re ready.”
    The young woman pretended to think about it, but accepted the condition to make her aunt happy and end this difficult conversation. For once, she had won the match and would leave the discussion a victor.
    She didn’t see the knowing smile exchanged between Grigán and Corenn.
    One of Raji’s suppliers paid him a visit just before nightfall, leading three packhorses loaded with fabric from Phar. Raji hurriedly stashed away