Well, we’renothelping the elderly woman first who took her own insecurity out on someone she considered a safe target. Imagining how often Tasa, who tries harder than anyone I’ve met, has been calledlazybecause of how her mind works—
Deep breaths.
I cast back to the person who at least had the awareness to realize that how the villagers are treating Tasa is shameful, and what he asked for.
“What about the man who needed help with his stove?”
“Oh, Noten?” Her whole being lights up, and it makes me ache.
Making her happy issosimple after all—giving her the chance to help someone with what shecando—and yet—
“Yeah, what he was saying makes it sound like he just needs a new fire lighter—most stoves come with a little spell that stabilizes it. Pretty sure I have a dead one in here somewhere. Give me a few minutes, it’s a small piece and I don’t know how to describe what it looks like.”
“Take your time.”
I’ll need that time to figure out my part.
I begin a meditative kata, sorting out the threads with my movement.
Not a holding pattern, but weaving different threads.
What I was trying before was a shield; setting myself in opposition to the Sage of Wrath’s power.
But while Crystal Hollow is, in its way, vulnerable, it is not like Zan.
The village doesn’t need to be defended, not in its current form.
It needs to change.
Knowingly or not, Yora started that work here.
But she didn’t finish it, because wrath is about waves, and she set off only one—an incomparably vast one, to be sure, but a single wave nonetheless.
My movements slow with deliberation; less sharpness; no breaks.
Resolve is different.
Resolve is steady.
Resolve is continual.
Resolve is putting in time even when it feels unsatisfying in the moment, because it’s not about the moment.
It’s about Tasa.
Tasa, who needs safety she can trust. Who needs to feel less pressure to make other people happy at her own expense. Who needs them to appreciate her when they’re not dependent on her.
An idea takes root, and I spin with it.
This will take time.
But I can feel aching wisps of magic here on the Quiet Side, and I am powerful enough in my own right to make something of what is here for me.
When I open my eyes, Tasa is watching me wide-eyed, bathed in the soft golden glow of my magic.
I hold a hand out to her, and she drops the tiny instrument into it.
So small, to make a difference.
