The Way of the Beast

***

  As Sten followed Chohla further into the Birch Groves, he saw that there was surprisingly little snow on the ground. Most of the area they came into was free of underbrush; the shrubbery he did see looked almost tidy. The air felt conspicuously warmer than out on the plains, only a stone's throw away. The difference in climate was unexpected, yet seemed somehow natural.

  As the given name of the forest implied, there were scattered groves of white birch trees in dense clusters throughout the woods. In the open, leaf-strewn spaces between those clusters were stout oaks that loomed over all; their barks were coated with rime, as if they drew any cold away from the birches.

  The air was calm with a mild scent of moss, and the usual sounds of a forest were muted there. Sten felt like he'd stepped into a church. A sense of peace emanated from the trees around him. It was mixed with a faint feeling of stoic admittance, as if the forest accepted his presence. "We do not hunt here," he said in a near-whisper of reverence as they moved slowly deeper into the woods, more of a statement of unfounded truth than a question.

  "No, we do not," Chohla said ahead of him. "The elements will be offended if any life is taken here. Even those with hard hearts or dark intent find it difficult to be in these white woods for long. The land provides, if you know where to look. My people consider most of this forest to be a refuge of sorts. Some of us have gathered here a few times..."

  "Gathered to do what?"

  "To visit, mostly; there were never many of us, and we meet so rarely. At the last occasion, we built a bonfire in a clearing. We sat around that big, warming flame, telling stories and trading information for many nights. It was memorable."

  They walked a while further before Sten asked, "Why does it feel so different here?"

  "Hmm, good question. Perhaps my people practiced our crafts and high sigils here so often that we altered this forest. Then again," he went on with a shrug, "perhaps nature chose this piece of land to be a special place, and that's why we were drawn here. I've found only a few other areas like this in all my travels, none of them as extensive as these woods."

  Sten mulled the information over in his head, but asked nothing further. Chohla stopped a short while later and had him take the lead. Finding attunement easier to attain, he carried on to the west until dusk settled in. The two men made camp near the outstretched roots of a towering oak, and gathered just enough dead wood for a fire to cook some of their bison meat.

  Their meal was eaten quietly, without need of conversation. Still chewing the last large bite of his steak, Sten broke the silence when he asked, "What are some of the other high sigils, master Chohla?" The question had been on his mind for some time, and the chat from earlier in the day refreshed his curiosity.

  "I'd rather not talk of things that are beyond your reach, Khoveyo. If I think you're ready and able to learn a new skill, I'll show you the secret of it."

  "Is there a way to make myself ready? Something I can practice?"

  Chohla frowned and took a deep breath before he answered. "Your heritage is mixed, although both your mother and father must carry the blood of my people. It is the same for some others of your kind, but most of them did not have the natural tendency to learn any skills beyond what they were taught. You did. It came to you naturally long ago, but only in one way - the way of the beast. That is the focus of your abilities, Khoveyo. With other ways, other skills... it is simply not within you to master them."

  "I see," Sten mumbled as he stared at the campfire, obviously disheartened.

  "Take pride in what you can do," Chohla said, trying to brighten the young man's sullen mood. "You are strong in many skills, perhaps stronger than you might know." Seeing his words had little effect, he spoke further. "Before the time of your parents, there was a Kaldevarran man who showed some of the natural skills of my people. He was a great warrior. His name was Vidun. Do you know this name?"

  Sten's eyes widened. "Vidun... Do you mean the greatest soldier of the northern guard, the champion of Kaldevarr for many cycles? Of course I know that name! Tales of his battles and feats are still told today! He carried the blood of your people like I do?"

  Chohla nodded. "And I can tell you this," he said. "Vidun had fewer skills and was not as strong with them as you are with yours." He let those words take effect before he asked, "Then you know of Vidun's end?"

  "Yes; he went out into the northern pass alone to face another approaching group of Ferrens, and was ambushed by archers."

  "That was the way of his end, but not the cause. Vidun's vanity was his downfall. True, he slew many enemies of Kaldevarr and saved many lives with his heroic deeds. But, he also reveled in praise and used his skills for personal gain. I used the words 'ready' and 'able' a moment ago. Vidun was able, but not ready. He did not have the proper respect of the power he wielded, and so fate took it from him."

  Alarmed, Sten asked, "Are you saying that I'm... Have I been disrespectful?"

  "No, Khoveyo, not at all. You do not have the hunger for glory as Vidun did. I'm saying that a powerful tool needs a wise hand to use it for the best result. You are a young man, and have just begun to learn about the deeper meanings of things. Wisdom will come. Be patient."

  "I'll try," Sten gloomily replied while he poked the campfire with a stick. "Can I at least know if I have it within me to learn other high sigils?"

  "Oh, quite so," Chohla answered with a smile. "I planned to show you a new sigil once we reach the hallowed place. Now the surprise is ruined, and you'll have to wait."

  Sten didn't plead, knowing that Chohla wouldn't change his mind. He drifted off to sleep to the sound of an owl hooting, wondering what secret was going to be shared.