Thorfinn rose early the next morning and began his rigorous training routine as usual. He was already seeing the benefits of his consistent exercise and was therefore glad to endure the hardship.
The rewards of strict self-discipline were evident: weight control was merely the baseline. Increased energy was another boon; he slept soundly, his appetite improved, he rarely fell ill, and the exercise gave him a good disposition. Even more importantly, physical conditioning could sharpen the mind, making his thoughts quicker and more agile.
Thorfinn felt something growing within him, an intangible strength that he could distinctly sense increasing. Perhaps this was the true benefit of his training. As for others claiming it was a gift from the gods, Thorfinn merely scoffed. Gods were gods precisely because they showed no mercy; they wouldn't concern themselves with his fate unless he proved useful to them.
So far, the gods Thorfinn paid lip service to were merely words, not a matter of genuine faith, and he didn't expect any response from them. He credited this unknown, positive change to himself. Gods only know what those divine beings are truly busy with, he thought.
After completing his customary workout, Thorfinn released Alpha, who was now showing the first signs of formidable might, to roam freely. He then picked up a doe that Alpha had hunted the day before and headed toward Thenya's dwelling. Even though everyone said Thenya had a decent temperament, bringing a gift couldn't hurt his chances, could it?
Thorfinn straightened his garments, slung the doe over his shoulder, and set off. Boro offered no objection. After all, a little kindness toward the local healer meant an extra layer of protection for one's own life and limb. Boro, beneath his seemingly simple exterior, was quite shrewd; it seemed he truly had the cunning of the Boar in him.
Following the faint, worn path, Thorfinn soon reached his destination. It was the same large wooden house, surrounded by a fence woven with thorny briars that kept strangers away. The wooden gate showed the marks of long-passed years, and a few vegetables were growing in the yard.
As luck would have it, he found Lyra clearing the breakfast dishes, indicating they had just finished their meal.
Thorfinn greeted her cheerfully, "Hark, Lyra! I've come to call on Granny Thenya. Come, introduce me to the famed Forest Witch, Thenya. I've brought her a gift, too! Here—a doe! My animal companion hunted it."
Lyra was delighted. "That's wonderful! We haven't had fresh meat in too long. This will be a real treat for Granny Thenya. We'll have to stew it until it's falling apart so she can eat it, but that's much better than nothing!"
Thorfinn couldn't resist teasing the eager girl. "I think it's not Granny Thenya who's starving for meat, but you, you little hungry wolf! Ha ha ha!"
Lyra didn't look the least bit embarrassed. "Who wants to eat greens every day? We're not sheep!"
The young woman directed Thorfinn to place the entire deer in the nearby kitchen. Their conversation and the commotion soon alerted Thenya inside, and a slightly hoarse voice called out from the house, "Little Lyra, who is it?"
Lyra replied, "It's Thorfinn, Granny. He's Boro's apprentice. He even brought you a gift—a deer! Would you like to see it?"
A weak voice answered, "No need. You take care of it."
After putting away the gift, Lyra led Thorfinn into the house. When Thorfinn first laid eyes on Granny Thenya, he was startled. The old woman was slumped in a reclining chair beside a small table stacked with a few books, with another chair next to it.
Thenya looked frail and emaciated, her face dark and deeply wrinkled. Only her eyes retained a hint of life. Her half-white, half-yellow hair was neatly combed, and her hands, like chicken claws, gripped a wooden walking stick.
Thorfinn stood frozen. Thenya also scrutinized the half-grown boy. "Are you Thorfinn?"
It wasn't until their eyes met that Thorfinn recovered his senses. "Yes, Granny Thenya, I am Thorfinn, the lad from Boro's place."
Thenya's lips curved slightly. "A fine-looking boy indeed. No wonder Lyra couldn't stop talking about meeting an interesting, handsome young man in the woods yesterday."
Lyra blushed a little. "Granny, that's not true! I only mentioned it in passing."
Thenya chuckled. "The chattering girl from yesterday didn't sound quite so composed, did she?" She ignored Lyra's reaction and turned back to Thorfinn. "Young man, why have you come here? It's been a long time since anyone has paid me a visit."
Thorfinn smiled. "I merely wanted to see what a Forest Witch looks like, to satisfy my curiosity. You live so close to Boro; we're practically neighbors, aren't we?"
Thenya replied, "People usually seek my wisdom, or beg me to heal the injured and the sick. No one has ever come just to see what I look like. You are very different. Are you perhaps interested in the mysteries of magic?"
Thorfinn was about to speak, but Thenya continued, "It's true. How many people don't long to explore the unknown, mystical power? When I was a child, I wanted to see magical beasts like Dragons, Griffins, and Ice Spiders. But alas, child, magic is very weak now."
Thenya's words genuinely surprised Thorfinn. This Witch was indeed different; at the very least, she was certain that magic was real and knew that the power of magic had waned. Revolving his thoughts, Thorfinn spoke: "May I learn some of your knowledge of magic? It's sudden, but I want to do this—to study the knowledge of the mystical arts."
Lyra looked utterly bewildered. How could this boy make such a strange request? Didn't he know that Witches had a terrible reputation, and even male wizards were ill-regarded? Only a madman would make such a plea.
Thenya was stunned as well. She looked at him in disbelief. "By the Old Gods and the New! Do you, a clear-eyed boy, wish to learn magic? Magic is not something anyone can master. If you are truly wise, you should know that magic is perilous. It is dangerous to use it to harm others, and just as dangerous to use it to save them. Sometimes, merely using it can wound you. Furthermore, this is not the danger of a sword fight; this danger is of the spirit. In other words, you are very likely to go mad. You may become a raving lunatic or merely touched in the head. Do you still wish to learn?"
Thorfinn considered this. "I'll give it a try. Might as well learn a new skill."
Thenya smiled, watching Thorfinn for a long, quiet moment until he began to feel uncomfortable. Finally, she spoke, "Not everyone has the gift for magic, but you are a Skinchanger, so your spirit might be adequate. We'll try. Teaching one Lyra is the same as teaching two. But you must learn quickly. My time is running short..."
"Child, step closer. Let me see if you truly have the talent for magic."
Thorfinn walked forward and approached Thenya. She took out a needle and said softly, "Hold out your hand. I need a drop of your blood—to taste your... essence."
Thorfinn extended his right hand. Thenya barely touched the tip of his index finger with the needle, and a drop of blood welled up. Thenya expertly used the needle to draw the blood, then placed the tip into her toothless, ancient mouth. She closed her eyes, savoring it as if tasting a rare delicacy.
Lyra watched Thenya's actions with wide eyes. She knew this was not merely a talent test; it was more—it was Prophecy. Not all prophecies come true, but foreknowledge grants an advantage. Granny Thenya must truly like Thorfinn to use this kind of magic for him. She looked at the oblivious Thorfinn.
After a long while, Thenya opened her eyes, which held a hint of surprise, and she looked at Thorfinn with an inscrutable gaze. Thorfinn was at a loss, knowing he was facing the final judgment: whether he had the gift or not depended on Thenya's word.
Thenya was silent for a moment before speaking. "You may come here tomorrow to study, along with Lyra. I will instruct you both together. Your talent... is quite good."
Joy lit up Thorfinn's face, and he expressed his profound gratitude for Thenya's generosity. "Thank you, Thenya. You are the kindest Forest Witch I have ever met."
Thenya chuckled. "As if you've met any other Forest Witches. Go on, boy. I won't waste any more time on you today. I'll see you tomorrow."
Thorfinn was speechless. He didn't know why Thenya had suddenly turned so abrasive. The legends said Witches were capricious, and Thorfinn, who hadn't believed it before, now saw the truth. Lyra's expression was odd, but Thorfinn was so immersed in the joy of learning magic that he didn't pay it any mind.
After Thorfinn left, Lyra rushed to Granny Thenya. She knew, from her understanding of Thenya, that she had not spoken all that was on her mind.
Seeing Lyra's return, Thenya did not hide anything. "You are wondering why I performed a prophecy but didn't tell him, or perhaps you want to know what I saw?"
Lyra: "Both."
Thenya sighed. "I have never met anyone like him. Through the prophecy, I saw only mist. Other than sensing some auras, I saw nothing... But his talent is good, truly. His spirit is vibrant, and he is unusually clever. Perhaps, in the near future, he will be more capable than you, Lyra."
Lyra protested, "I have been practicing magic for some time. He has no such experience. It's too soon to say what the future holds!"
Thenya smiled. "You are right... But I still can't understand why I couldn't foresee his future. Lyra, keep a closer watch on him from now on. There must be some unknown reason for this, and I want to find out why."
Lyra agreed and went to prepare the venison, leaving Thenya to mutter to herself, "Thorfinn, why are you so unique? I have never failed before! Is this the will of the gods? But who would care about a wildling boy like him? I just can't figure it out..."