Once Cormal stopped being Summus, maybe he could do it—but probably best not to muddy the water with that offer just yet.
Staring into eyes that were so much like his own, he assured her, “If you want to start here and then you realize it’s not for you, you can go to the Mages later, or the other way around. Just a few months ago, we had someone decide they didn’t want to bea Mage Warrior anymore, even though they’d done it for years. It can take time to figure out where you fit in, and that’s all right.”
She was staring at him avidly, looking like she’d started to hope but wasn’t sure if she should. “But what else could I do with fire?”
Cormal’s father had never given him any of these options, and he took great delight in laying them all out before Livala. “Well, first, you don’t have to do anything with it if you don’t want to. Youmustlearn to control it, but after that, if you decide you’re only going to use it to light candles and lamps, that’s your choice. If you want to help your town have the best Fire Festival ever but you want to spend the rest of your time building furniture or teaching or baking or farming, you can do that. If you don’t want to be a Mage Warrior, you could work in a city and help the Water Mages if a fire occurs. Some Fire Mages clear old growth or destroy buildings to enable new builds. You don’thaveto use it to fight if you don’t wish to do so.”
She was regarding him with narrowed eyes. “But it’s good in a fight.”
“It can be very useful,” Cormal agreed. “Not a lot of things can stand up to fire. But that doesn’t mean you have to use it. Fire Mages might be able to control fire the easiest, but it’s not like everyone else can’t make fire, too. It can be dangerous, though, so Iwouldrecommend that you stay here or that you stay with the Mages, at least to start.”
“Do the Mages have any Fire Mages right now?” she asked.
“I’m not actually sure,” he admitted. “Fire Mages are the rarest.”
And she wasn’t wrong about the Mages at the Great Library not being in love with fire.
“So doesn’t that mean Ishoulduse it to fight, if it’s so rare?”
He shook his head emphatically. “You should use it for what makes you happy. You don’t have an obligation to anyone else. Ifyouwant to protect people, then we’d be happy to have you, like I said, but you aren’t locked into any fate just because you can control fire.”
His father had told Cormal and Brannal the exact opposite. He’d gone on and on about the responsibility that they had, and it had taken Cormal far too long to realize what nonsense that was.
Control. Control was the only thing they needed to learn—and it seemed like Cormal hadn’t done such a great job of that. He’d worked so hard to live up to his father’s impossible expectations that it had broken everything else. Maybe he couldn’t fix everything for himself, but he would do what he could to make the road smoother for Livala. His great-niece.
“Does anyone else here control fire?” she asked.
He shook his head, swallowing thickly. “Just me.”
She nodded like that made the decision for her. She slipped her hand into his. “Then I’m staying.”
He held onto that hand, smaller than his own, but solid and certain, and told himself his eyes were stinging because of all the fire he’d been throwing a few minutes ago.
“That’s very nice of you. I think you should probably talk to your family first. And remember, if you change your mind, that’s totally all right. Sometimes, it takes you a while to realize that the thing that you thought was the right thing is actually the wrong thing.”
She blinked at him. “Is everything always really complicated with you?”
This surprised a bark of laughter out of him. “It used to be easier, but I think that was just because I was being a stubborn ass and not seeing any other points of view. So yes, I’m pretty sure that everything is complicated with me.”
She nodded, accepting this with the ease of childhood—or maybe just with more wisdom than Cormal possessed even now.
She squeezed his hand and then let go and climbed to her feet, so he rose as well. Right, because they totally had an audience. He’d forgotten, somehow. He cleared his throat.
“So, this is, uh, the work room that my father made for moments like this. Livala, you can always come here and lob fireballs if you need to. Or if you feel like it’s the safest place to practice, you can do that. Kinan might have said all that already; I was mostly not processing, sorry.”
He sent Kinan an apologetic smile, but the man just smiled gently at him.
They headed back out into the hall, where Cormal realized that in addition to Livala’s family, Kinan, Delana, and Molun, there was also Arvus and a slighter figure who was hovering with him. Cormal vaguely remembered hearing something about Molun and Arvus playing with someone.
“Sorry about that,” Cormal told them all. “I think it’s fair to say that I have some unresolved feelings about my father.”
“You’re not alone,” Tramon said kindly. “I chose to put it behind me a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean the feelings can’t surprise me from time to time—nor that I wouldn’t lob a fireball or two if I was able.”
Cormal smiled in appreciation of the willingness to try to make his reaction seem slightly less absurd. His eyes strayed to the man hovering next to Arvus. He was staring at Cormal avidly, gaze hungry but… wary. With his very green eyes. Eyes just like Livala’s and Cormal’s… and the expression was one that Cormal recognized, because he’d felt that way often enough when his father was alive.
He took a step closer.
“Who are you?” he asked.
