Chapter 1
Strong Hands
"My god! My dear child, how did you do what you did?"
"Please, tell us Sigmund!" My mother and my sister stood in the kitchen, watching me eat my supper. My father quickly hushed them both.
"Let the child eat! Go on, finish the cooking." As they turned away, my father sat next to me. I cleared my throat of my raspberry bread before I spoke.
"Papa, are you proud of me?"
"Of course my son." I smiled.
"I'm just like you now Papa!"
"You will be my son. You will be." He rustled my hair almost in a daze before standing up again. He walked over to my mother and kissed her. "Tomorrow, we start." He whispered. She gasped.
"So soon? He's much too young!"
"We must."
My sister turned to me, giving me a cold glance before leaving the room. I shuddered and looked down at my bread. At that moment, something in my gut told me something wasn't right. But I didn't mind the odd feeling. My father, he was proud of me. I scarfed down my food as quickly as I could and rushed to my father's study. I opened the room door slowly when I noticed him meditating in front of a crackling fireplace. I entered quietly and closed the door behind me.
"Sigmund." I jumped when my father suddenly spoke my name.
"Papa? Ja, it's me."
"Sit with me dear son." I did as he asked, taking a seat to the right of him on the floor. The heat of the fire softly touched my fair skin.
"What do you request of me Papa?" I asked. He looked down at me for just a second before returning to his meditation.
"I would like for you to promise me something son."
"Yes Papa?"
"Promise me that you will never give up. No matter how rough things begin to get. Promise me you will push through and handle your own like the young man I know you are." He spoke this not to me, but to the flames that burned brightly in front of him. With every word he spoke, the flames almost seemed to rise and crack louder. I looked down at my feet.
"I-I promise Papa. I do."
"That's my dear boy. Now go, rest. We have a big day ahead of us!"
"YES PAPA! I WILL!" I rushed out of his study. A smile spread across my face and nothing at that very moment could have taken that feeling away from me.
—
"Good morning son!"
"Guten morgen, Mama!"
My mother placed a plate of food in front of me. Isis handed me a cup of milk, then the same horrid look as the day before. Catching a glimpse of this, my mother slapped her with a wooden spoon.
"WATCH IT!" My mother shouted.
"But, Mama! I've done nothing wrong!"
"WATCH IT!" She repeated. My sister growled under her breath and returned to her kitchen chores. My father entered the stone kitchen, patting me on the back.
"Guten morgen, my son!" He greeted. I smiled, pushing my food aside.
"Guten morgen, Papa!"
"Are we ready for a day out today?"
"Yes Papa! We are!" I followed my father out, waving farewell to my mother and ignoring my sister.
"What are we doing today, Papa?"
"We will be training today."
"Training?"
He said no more and lead me down to the river bank outside our property line. There, carp sprung out of the water, dancing over the rocks. Daisies and dandelions swayed in the sweet spring breeze. My father looked up towards the sunshine and smiled.
"Today's the day!" He nodded to himself. I followed his actions and smiled up to the blue sky as well. He laughed. "Son, I would like for you to do the fire ball trick again."
I nodded then steadied my hands and mumbled the words to myself. With the same wrist flick and a snap of my fingers, the flames erupted from my small hands like the flick of a lighter.
"Yes, very good! Now walk over to me." I easily did as he asked.
"Look! I did it Papa! Look! I'm just like you!"
"Not yet Sigmund. You will be if you keep your promise." I nodded and put the flames out with a slight pout.
"Yes, Papa."
"Now, follow along and do what I do Sigmund, son." I watched my father closely. Wanting so badly to be like him and make him proud.
"I've done it father! Look at the sparkles Papa! Look!"
"I see Sigmund. They're yours and will always remain. You have the blood of a true sorcerer." I gasped and smiled at my very own sparkles that matched my father's perfectly. My father approached me and ran his fingers through my shaggy hair, almost like he was inspecting it before he looked down at me once more.
"Perform the fireball trick again." He ordered me.
"B-but Papa, I did so already."
"Do it AGAIN!" He shouted. His sudden shouting startled me and caused me to fall back into the shallow river. I sat in the rushing water and looked up at my father. Tears swelled my eyes. I feared that I had displeased him.
"P-papa..." I whimpered. He quickly lifted me out of the water and dried only my hands with his shirt.
"Sigmund, it's quite alright. I apologize for shouting at you, but you must do as I say."
"Y-yes Papa. I'm sorry." I performed the trick with shaky hands. My father quickly put the fire out.
"You must perform with strong hands." He told me sternly. "You will burn that way my son."
That morning, I trained with my father. Taking in his advice and listening to every word he told me. For I now understood that being what I was was important to my father. My father's approval meant the world to me. I wouldn't give up.