That night Seif's mind was a blur of all the things the sudden declaration from the dedicate meant. He would be able to leave his home, become something useful, to start getting his hands dirty with something he always admired! What would he create? What kind of things could he do with his magic now? How often had he accidentally used his magic to muck up any of this other endeavors? Suddenly Seif thought back on all of the things he tried to do and how terribly they had gone, and had to wonder how much of it was his magic coming through and not his own incompetence.
He laid on his bed, his smile still holding on from a few hours earlier when Faïence told him of his gift. Deciding that laying in bed until morning was just as useless as daydreaming about his future creations. Sitting up in his bed, Seif tossed his light muslin blanket to the side and slipped his feet into a pair of thonged sandals. Standing, he made his way to a small table near his door to bring some light to his room. He quickly found his flint and struck up the wick on his candle. Having done this for years, Seif almost wagered he could get around his house blind at this point.
Carefully, Seif took the candle around his room and lit a few others he had kept around for nights when sleep alluded him. Finding the trunk that his parents bought for his families trips further west when they went to purchase cattle, he started to go through his belongings. He knew that he wouldn't be able to bring all of this things to the Temple. He had read that while initiates to the Temple did not take a vow of poverty, they also lived modest lives without many possessions. He dug through his clothing finding things he wanted to take with him. He didn't have a lot of clothing, but some of what he had seemed too out of place for the Temple.
He left behind his expensive silk shirts and his heavy Kashmir robe. He hated to leave them behind. While he family was not rich, they had saved every year to present him such wonderful gifts during their Solstice celebration. For the people in Zalai, Solstice was a large celebration with two ends. First, they celebrated that they would soon be experiencing cooler nights and shorter days. Second, they celebrated that it meant the beginning of the rainy season so that their crops could drink of fresh water before beginning their growing season again.
Thinking hard on it again, he grabbed the heavy robe and tossed it into the trunk. He might not ever need it, but at least he would have it. He tossed in many of his lighter shirts, some britches, a few cotton undershirts, and a wide brimmed hat he wore during the rainy season. He noticed that his trunk was only half full and wondered if he should pile anything else in. Slowly Seif scanned his room.
On his wooden bureau he had a few candles, some books he had purchased and finished reading, and a small metal dish and pitcher he used to wash himself in the morning. On his end table, he had only his flint and candles. Then he rounded on his bed, a mattress covered in a thin muslin blanket with a pillow at the end. Had he really lived with so little personal possessions? He had seen the gifts his parents showered on his older brother, and even his sister when she was hired to work for the Salimut. For the first time in hours, Seif's smile faded. He slipped off his sandals, blew out his candles, moved his trunk onto the floor, and fell asleep as his joy slowly slid away from him.
A few hours later, Seif woke up with the crow of the rooster. Groggily he made his way to his basin on his bureau and filled it with some water from the pitcher. Seif stood there in his half-sleep haze staring at the water before completely submerging his face. When he pulled his face back out, he could feel the water running down his neck and back, soaking into his light cotton bed clothes. The water was warm, like the air around him, but refreshing. He could smell his mother cooking some pigs meat and eggs and his mouth watered. He stripped off his shirt and grabbed a rag from a drawer in his bureau. He dunked the rag into the basin and used it to lightly rinse off any sleep-sweat from his body. Then he pulled off this pants and did the same before putting on a clean loin cloth and a light muslin shirt and britches for the day.
His shirt was dyed a light lavender color, and he only wore it for special occasions. Today he was to head into the artisan district after breakfast to meet Faïence and buy a few things he would need for his training at the Temple. After that, she wanted to gather his trunk from his home to prepare for his trip tomorrow. Seif walked into the kitchen and greeted his mother and began to help her set the table for their family. He sister came down, pinning up the last of her braids under a grey colored head scarf and sat. She was quickly followed by her brother and father, who were both wearing plain clothes that had been dyed with splotches of animal blood from long days spent in the butchery.
"I hear you have magic, Seif. Mother told me about it last night when I got home. You know, I've heard the Salimut has a liking for strange magics. Perhaps you could meet with him when you finish your training," His sister said as she took a few eggs and a piece of pigs meat onto her plate. Seif poured her a cup of hot water for her tea. As she reached into her dress and pulled out a small bag of Wake-Me-Up tea she had purchased from a Trader caravan, Seif smiled.
"If I ever finish my training, I'll have to have you put in a good word for me. Assuming of course that Tuma doesn't try to make me follow in his foot steps." Seif sat at the table and collected his own food. As his family ate in silence, Seif barely looked up from his plate, shoveling the food into his mouth. He barely chewed before swallowing, when his mother put her hand on his arm.
"Boy, if you do not slow down you are going to choke. You're no good to this family, or your new Temple, if you die out of eagerness." Seif swallowed hard and looked down, shamed. He knew that she was right. He apologized and slowed his eating down to finish what little was left of his breakfast. After he was done, he cleared the table with as much haste as he could manage, putting the uncooked food back into their cold box. He helped his mother wash the dishes and dry them, placing them back into their cupboard. He looked out the window to the sun dial his family had placed to check the time. He could hear the sounds of the artisan district beginning to wake.
Seif said his goodbyes to his family as he strapped his sandals on, and took off for the artisan district at a trot. The air was beginning to get heavy with water, and Seif knew if he tried to run in this he would be winded before he got too far. As he walked through the district, he saw shutters opening, people sweeping out shops, and others already at work setting out pieces to sell or putting the finishing touches on others. All around him, he looked in wonder at the trinkets, smells, and sounds of his future. He stopped at the corner of one building and closed his eyes to take it all in. He could feel fires slowly waking all around him as he did. Being prodded with coals, wood, and iron rods to move around the warming pieces.
He could feel the stones of buildings stalwart in their years of service, he could feel water flowing from buckets, sitting in basins, and running deep beneath his feet. Seif took a deep breath and let it out. A couple of shouts of panic made him come back to himself and look around the corner. In multiple spots he could see people warding themselves as their fires roared to life, as water in buckets started to boil, and as loose stones shifted in their place. Sheepishly he smiled, before turning and beginning to head in the other direction. As he did, he was greeted by a familiar face. It was hardly as amused as his own.
"I had expected you would wait until you found me to try that," Faïence said as took Seif by the arm. Familiar with this means of travel, Seif bent his arm at the elbow and cradled it close to his body to escort the Dedicate. "You've gone and got the elements around here all wound up. You really should be more careful." As they walked, Faïence walked by each shop where owners were shrugging off the odd occurrence as they saw the Dedicate in her robes. Most of them knew strange things happened whenever a member of the Living Circle religion was near. "Seif, I asked you out here this morning so we could get you your first clay. It's important for you to pick it out yourself. Unfortunately, there's been a bit of a traffic hold in Namorn the last few days, so we don't have much to choose from.
"You see, most of our clay comes from Namorn, who seems to be rich the material. Namorn clay is also some of the easiest to work with because of how it collects there. It's a natural process that takes some time, but also leaves the clay calm and obedient. Unlike clays from places like Emelan or Anderran, which are stubborn as the sea. Namornese clay comes from the Syth, which is a freshwater lake. The salt from the sea makes clay disagreeable for beginners. It gives it an extra edge that most beginners find impossible to work with... like an older sibling." She smiled as she reflected on her comment.
"What's so funny about that?" Seif asked. The Dedicated smiled at him, and cupped his chin in her hand.
"I have an older sibling who is also gifted with magical ability. Of course, hers comes in the form of academic magic. We've had many a long," she paused as she selected the best word, "discussion about these things." Faïence continued to discuss the regions clay came from with Seif. She had told him that most water-bbased countries would have some variation on clay. It made it expensive to purchase in land locked placed like Zalai, but that's where trade came in handy. Seif had asked about the great river than ran into Zalai, and Faïence told him how that water also came from the sea. "It's got it's own clay deposits, that we mine, but it's also got some salt in it from the water there. Now, we could work with it and push the salt out, but that takes up much time and magic from a mage. Salt is a stubborn thing when it wants to be, especially in something like clay. If you have the time, then there's no hurry and you can work with a salt water clay, or even spend some time coaxing the salt out of the clay to replace it with fresh water. However, if you've got your own business or have very little time on your hands, spending a little extra and finding a fresh-water clay is better."
Reaching a small caravan of tents and wagons, Seif recognized the Trader caravan that often made a stop in his city. Faïence bowed to the women who stood at an open stall with several wares setting on shelves and lining a few shelves that ran between posts. She had a small table near the back of the stall with tea and some treats. On the rare occasion that he dealt with Traders, it was always his favorite way of dealing. They always offered food and drink, and this was the easiest way to please a young boy. Seif bowed, as Faïence had, and stood just behind his teacher.
"Hello, dear Ojia. It's a fine day for a conversation, is it not?" She asked as she smiled broadly. The woman behind the stall smiled and flapped a hand at Faïence, giggling.
"You would think that after years of dealing with us, you might stop with the silly formalities, Faï. I thought I'd see you here this month, so I made sure we had plenty of different clays for you." The woman disappeared behind a cloth curtain that at the back of the stall. She reappeared a few moments later with a few different crocks with linens tied tightly on the top. As she was about to untie them, Faïence stopped her.
"I have a new student with me, Oija. I want to use this opportunity as his first lesson." She turned to face Seif, "Without looking, I want you to explore each of these containers and figure out with of the clays you would like to work with." She smiled, showing her many white teeth. Folding her hands in front of her, she stepped out of the way and winked at the Trader, Oija who smiled cautiously and took a few steps backwards.
Seif didn't know what to do. He wasn't allowed to look inside the crocks, but he had to decide which clay was best for him. He stuttered a bit before Faïence spoke up, "Use your magic. I surely hope you're not simple, my child." Her voice was dry, but she smiled. Seif was used to sarcasm from Tuma. It was a quality he had not cared for in his friend, and he was sure he would learn to like it even less in his teacher. Concentrating, looking for that feeling he had previous night when he held the clay, Seif held his hand out above the linen covers.
He could feel clay beneath his hands. It had felt hard, and warm. Any time he attempted to explore it, he seemed to get rejected, as though he hit a brick wall. "I don't understand. All I feel is a wall." He tried not to whine, whining at home got him wrapped by his mother. He sighed, recognizing this all too well. This was the beginning of the end for his trip into magic. Like everything before, he had found a way to ruin this too.
Faïence smiled softly. "You're letting the clay of the pot confuse you. What you're feeling is the already cooked and formed pots. Explore past them. Let yourself ignore them, like so many people in a market. They are simply a crowd you have to get through, with a little force." Seif took another deep breath and closed his eyes. He turned her words over in his mind again and again as he let himself explore outward again. Again he ran into the stiff walls of the pot. This time he didn't let them fool him. A little bit of force, he thought. tightening the muscles on his body, Seif forced his way beyond the clay pot.
It was tough to get beyond the clay pot. It was already formed, but seemed to beg for his touch as he moved beyond it. Like a loyal pup being left ashore, it whined and begged, trying it's best to cling to him. He shook it off, pushing on further. Beyond the pot, he found what he was looking for. A piece of cool, damp earth awaited him. He could feel it's joy at his presence. It seemed to dance for him, squirming and wiggling, rising and falling. Like an energetic child that wanted to play, this clay was bouncy and flexible. It just wanted attention. Seif withdrew his magic, after promising the clay he would be back, and began to explore the next container. This one was much easier to get through, as Seif found a crack in the bottom that allowed him much easier access.
The clay in this pot seemed that it couldn't be bothered to wake for him. He was gruff and hard. Seif poked at it with his magic, and it poked back. Seif smiled, thinking of how this clay reminded him of his brother when he slept in. It had wanted nothing to do with him, and so he wanted nothing more than to tease it and poke it until it gave in. The gruff clay seemed to not want to give in to his continued attempts to rouse it. It simply rolled to the farther edge of the pot to escape his annoying prods. Seif withdrew himself from this pot, and let his consciousness spread out.
Something behind the curtain called to him. It was agreeable, like a trusted friend. It was willing to do what he wanted, without much hassle or too much energy. It wasn't difficult and promised to give as much of itself as it could. Seif pulled his magic back into himself and opened his eyes. "I want the one behind the curtain still." He looked to his teacher, and then turned to look at the Trader, who was picking up the crock with the crack in the bottom. It had fallen onto it's side, the clay in it pushing on the linen on the top.
"You seemed to have upset the fire clay." Faïence smiled as she looked to Oija, "It seems I might have someone capable on my hands, yet. Can we have the real clay, please?" The Trader nodded as she disappeared behind the curtain again. Faïence turned to look at Seif. "I'm surprised you didn't go for the ball clay. A lot of beginner mages make that mistake. They see the energy of it and assume it will be easier to work with than the fire clay. I might make a decent mage of you yet."
Seif smiled in return, "The, did you call it ball clay?" Faïence nodded. "The ball clay reminded me some of the younger animals on our farm. Too excitable and hard to herd. But the other one, the fire clay, reminded me a lot of my brother early in the morning. He's so hard to wake up!" Faïence snorted and choked at his statement, her face turning red as she let out a deep laugh that caused her to bend over.
When she finally righted herself, she had explained to Seif that ball clays were useful for stiffer clays to make them more agreeable to shaping, which is why it was so excitable. Too much of it and the clay would become unruly and refuse to listen. Too little, and a potter risked injury to muscles from overworking. The fire clay, on the other hand, had to be stubborn. It could be added to make a piece more resistant to heating. This could be exceptional in pieces that would become consistently exposed to heat, like building a fire pit for a glassblower or smith, or for building bricks for houses. "You want a piece like that to be highly resistant to heat when finished, so it doesn't explode when someone starts to use it. However, large pieces like that also use a lot of magic to make the clay agreeable to setting."
When the Trader returned she took Seif's money, three gold vilnes, which was more than most people made in a month, and thanked them both for their purchases. It was close to midday by the time Seif and Faïence carried their new purchases to the Temple wagons. "I'll be buy with one of the wagons to help collect your things shortly after midday. We'll start our trip to the temple after then. I suggest you use what's left of your money to buy some treats for the trip. It can be dreadfully long. We won't get back until well after dinner."