Shortly after dinner, Seif's mother put him to work cleaning the home they had attached to their butcher shop. He had explained what had happened in Tuma's shop, and that Tuma would be coming over with a guest. She had him running errands all after midday to prepare. For his mother, the preparations were more about showing how much his family stood above the other artisans based simply on how much they could offer to entertain guests. For Seif, it was something nice he could do for someone he considered a friend.
He fetched breads and jams from the baker, teas from the Trader caravan, and collected their best cups. He had to clean their sitting room, prepare water for the tea, and collect their pots of sugar and cream. She then forced him to go to the baths and clean himself up and put on his best clothes.
He finally returned home wearing a dull orange over-shirt made of a sheer cotton, a pair of light brown cotton britches, leather sandals, and a white head wrap made of silk. Around his neck he wore a soft Kashmir scarf, named for the type of goat they obtained the wool from. It was a common fabric in Zalai, but fetched a high price in places like Emelan and Namorn. Seif started to boil some water for the various teas when there was a knock on the door. Seif took a deep breath before walking over and answering it. When he saw Tuma, he smiled and opened the door further for his friend to enter.
Seeing the tall, thin woman with Tuma, Seif recognized her bright tan habit as a Dedicate of the Burning Circle Temple. He crossed his arms over his chest and bowed to her, as was custom in the country. She smiled at Seif and touched him on his shoulder, letting him know it was ok to stand. "Thank you for the hospitality and formality, but it's honestly not necessary." Her voice sounded as though it run over gravel and sand. It was deep for a lady, and rough. Something in Seif liked it.
When he stood, he took her appearance in fully. She was a few inches short of Seif's own five feet, ten inches. Her tight grey and white curls were smoothed back from her face and held in place by a black Kashmir headband woven as though it were lace. It had several small wooden beads attached for decoration. Her face was a soft oval, which stood in contrast to her striking brown eyes and sharp nose. "Please allow me to show you to our sitting room, Medine," Seif said, using the Zalai term for mage.
"Please, call me Faïnce. All of my colleagues do," She asked as she swept past Seif and followed Tuma to the sitting room. Seif went to the kitchen and picked up the pot of hot water and took it into the sitting room, offering tea to Faïnce, Tuma, and his parents. After everyone was seen to, he stood in front of a chair between his parents. Only after Faïnce had sat, did Seif and his parents sit.
"Honestly Tuma, what is this all about? Seif told us about his," Seif's father stopped, trying to select the right word from the air, "attempt at pottery. But does his continued failures really request the presence of a Medine from the temple? I admit the boy is dafuke, but I don't know we need intervention. Let the Salimut's guard sort him out."
Seif bowed his head when his father used the word for a useless person, someone who lived off the kindness of others without trying to support themselves. To Seif's surprise Faïnce was the one to speak up. "My good sir, if what Tuma tells me is true, your son is far from dafuke," she cringed as she used the word. "It would seem that he may have a very special gift after all." She smiled as she reached into her robe and produced a small damp cloth. Unfolding it, she revealed a lump of dull beige clay. She stood and took it over to Seif.
"Please take this, Seif. I want you to hold it in your palm and close your eyes. Imagine, in your mind, a shape you want the clay to become." She placed the lump into Seif's hand. It was cool and felt pleasant in his palm. Seif felt like it wanted to be shaped, like it was calling for him to manipulate it. Seif looked up to Faïence, who nodded her approval. Slowly his closed his eyes, nervous about what might happen. He took a trembling breath and exhaled. The clay tickled his hand.
As if from the clays own will, and image began to form in his mind. It was a hollow cylinder, almost like a vase. The cylinder became wider and wider in his mind. The uppermost rim of the cylinder began to bend out, like a blossoming flower opens to the sun. Then it stopped and Seif could tell the clay in his mind was becoming harder. He could feel heat from an unseen fire wrap itself around the newly formed shape and dry up all of the moisture in it. He could hear the dim crackle of logs burning. He could feel the heat like a warm blanket wrapping around new clay shape and himself. The clay seemed to sing in its new shape. It so much wanted to be useful, to be this thing.
The clay began to crack as it dried. Not knowing where the heat came from, Seif was unable to stop it. He could feel the strain of the clay as it cried out. It had no water left to give. The clay began to droop, melting in the heat. The cracks increased as the heat kept on coming. The clay itself seemed to give up on its shape altogether and collapsed into a liquid puddle in his mind. It seemed to cry in agony as it melted. Seif's eyes shot open, shocked at a warm feeling in his hand. He looked to his now open hand and saw the clay lump was now the puddle from his mind, running through his fingers and over the edges of his hand and onto the floor.
Seif's mouth moved, but his throat struggled to make sound. His father was just as wide eyed as Seif. Faïence seemed pleased, and Tuma's smile was so wide Seif was convinced his teeth were going to fall out. Seif's mother was the first to break the silence. "Looks like our son isn't a dafuke after all, Dagher," She addressed his father. His father stared at her, unable to speak but able to show his distaste at his wife's sentiment. Faïence leaned down and moved her hands over the liquid clay on the floor. As if obeying her, it collected itself into a ball, and rolled across the floor onto her palm. The clay in Seif's hand poured itself onto the floor, not wanting to be left behind.
Tuma couldn't contain himself any longer. "I'm surprised I hadn't considered this sooner. Seif, how long have your parents been sending you to my shop? Years. It's been years. And never once did I listen to the clay!" Tuma shook his head at his own foolishness. Faïence smiled, "Sometimes we get so comfortable with our craft that we forget to listen to it. It helps to get away every now and then. That's why so many of us come to market every month to sell our wares. However, this means that Seif will need to decide what he wants to do."
Seif sat in his chair, still staring at the spot in his hand where the puddle of melted clay once sat. His mind seemed to lurch to a stop as all of the talking going on around him became muffled noise. Like a potters wheel just being started, his mind started to spin slowly, then much more rapidly. He had magic! He was going to be useful! He would be able to do something with his life beyond taking a well placed lightning bolt from a Yanjing battle mage!
Faïence's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife, "Of course this means we'll have to move him to Burning Circle for his training. I'd offer to leave him here with Tuma, but since he couldn't even identify a mage he had seen for years, it leaves me questioning his ability to teach." Her smile was wide, and her tone playful. She and Tuma seemed to share a bond that ran deeply, for her to make such offensive comments in mixed company without him immediately lashing her.
Dagher finally found his voice and spoke up. "I think its for the best then, unless the boy desires to serve the Salimut in his army." It was a statement more than a question. For Seif, this was his first official step towards being a man that his family respected. Since he started trying to find his way he had been treated as a burden and was often considered a joke in his own household. Now he had all the power, he could make the choice that defined his future. The moment was not lost on Seif, but his father impatiently cleared his throat.
"I want to go with Faïence, I want to learn my magic at Burning Circle." The words were sweet in his mouth, and his own smile was so large that his face muscles started to cramp. Rubbing his cheeks, he wasn't sure if he would ever stop smiling.