The following day, after completing his usual training with Boro, Thorfinn dedicated a few hours to archery. However, his practice time was brief, and after just a few hours, he departed. He was on his way to Thenya's to learn magic, and he was filled with eager anticipation.
In these recent days, Thorfinn had quickly mastered the lessons Boro taught him. Whether it was using his animal companion to scout and sneak, or slipping into the consciousness of other beasts, he was becoming more proficient. In some ways, Thorfinn was already starting to surpass his master.
Taking the well-worn path to Thenya's home, Thorfinn felt an irrepressible eagerness. Even with the wisdom of two lifetimes, this was a novelty, and Thorfinn approached it with high expectations.
Arriving at Thenya's once more, Thorfinn tried to calm his excitement. Pushing open the door, he found Thenya seated in her accustomed reclining chair, with Lyra sitting nearby.
Thenya pursed her lips and motioned for Thorfinn to take the empty seat. Thorfinn obliged, grabbing the dusty stool, wiping it clean with his sleeve, and settling down.
Thenya spoke in a kind voice, "Thorfinn, can you read?"
Thorfinn replied, "I know some letters. My mother taught me. I wouldn't claim to be a master, but I recognize seven words in ten in the Westeros Common Tongue. As for other tongues, I can speak some, but write none."
Thenya looked surprised. "It is enough that you know the Common Tongue. I have some books here, some written by my own hand, others I gathered on my journeys. You may read them freely, and if you do not recognize a word, you may ask me."
Thorfinn looked at the books on the small table. Aside from the one Lyra held, there were only six on the table, making a total of seven. They were small and thin, a pitiful collection.
Thorfinn couldn't help but ask, "Are these... is this all the knowledge you have?"
Thenya asked, "How many did you expect? There are many kinds of magic, and no one can know it all. Many a witch spends her entire life studying and only masters a handful of spells. Some things seem simple but are very difficult to achieve; you will understand when you delve deeper. For instance, the magic I have mastered is limited to a few forms of Blood Magic, some research into the spirit, and the study of souls."
"And, of course, let us not forget the signature skill of a Forest Witch... brewing potions. The precise science and strict art of potion-making is not something I expect you to grasp now, but I shall teach you... I shall teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses, how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper on death."
Thenya's advice was patient and guiding, but when paired with her raspy voice, Thorfinn found it a little unsettling. This, he thought, was more like a true witch.
"The traditions of magic that survive today are passed down in two ways: one is through the bloodline, and the other is through the teaching of knowledge. Both have their strengths and weaknesses, but you are clearly the latter. Few people awaken to the gift of magic through their blood now. In your case... you will begin by studying Potions and Herbology."
Ignorant of magic, Thorfinn could only submit to Thenya's arrangement. Thus began his nightmare-turned-joy. The accumulation of knowledge is often dull, but the actual attempt to brew a potion was fascinating. Thenya had opened the door to a more intriguing world for Thorfinn.
Some of the topics frustrated Thorfinn. For example: What effect is created by mixing the powder of Narcissus Root and Mugwort? What are the respective uses of Tuckahoe and Poria? He realized that Potions demanded he learn a vast array of herbal lore, and merely memorizing the various plants was enough to give Thorfinn a headache.
Thorfinn was truly pained but happy through it all.
As the days passed, Boro noticed Thorfinn's peculiar behavior. Under his persistent questioning, Thorfinn finally told him the truth: he was now studying potion-making with Thenya. Boro merely sighed. He did not object, for he knew Thenya, and he trusted that Thorfinn would come to no harm.
Boro only offered one piece of advice: "Do not neglect the training of a Skinchanger. For all else, you may go your own way."
Thorfinn was surprised by Boro's attitude but did not press him. He trusted Boro's judgment, and he trusted himself.
Skinchanging, physical training, archery, and now a course in magic—his days were packed and fulfilling. Thorfinn grew steadily, his spiritual and intellectual knowledge increasing by the day.
After a few months, Thorfinn had completed the fundamentals of Potions. Though the complex pharmacology was enough to bore even the most tranquil old man, Thorfinn learned quickly. He was finally ready to approach the true secrets of magic...
Inside Thenya's wooden house, Thenya began to teach Thorfinn true magic. "Thorfinn, you have not disappointed me. Your talent is truly great; I have seen it clearly in this past season. Now, I shall keep my word and show you what you must learn next. Are you ready, my foolish boy?"
Thorfinn replied, "I am ready."
Thenya let out a cackling laugh. After she quieted, she said, "I have seen many who believed they could toy with magic. In the end, they were always toyed with by magic. Their fates were seldom kind. Do you wish to join them, Thorfinn?"
Thorfinn answered seriously, "I do not. I shall be careful and cautious."
Thenya continued, "Aye, careful and cautious—that is how all those who first touch magic begin. Yet, in the end, they are all consumed by it. Thorfinn! You must remember this: Magic is the whisper of the daemon. No matter how it tempts you, you must be wary."
Thorfinn nodded gravely.
Thenya smiled. "You are a clever child, and for that reason, I worry for you. Now, I must ask you a question. Tell me your true understanding. What is magic, Thorfinn? Do not repeat the platitudes you have heard from others; speak your own mind."
Thorfinn thought for a moment before answering, "Magic is merely knowledge known to the few. It is a mysterious knowledge. Most people fear it because they do not know it, and the few who understand and use it become great."
Thenya stared at Thorfinn for a while. "Truly remarkable... Your understanding is fascinating, Thorfinn! Even I, a witch who has dealt with magic her entire life, must agree. You are unlike any other child."
Hearing Thenya's words, Thorfinn realized belatedly that he might have revealed a little too much of his inner self.
"The low ebb of the Magic tide... it has passed. I have a feeling, Thorfinn. I have a feeling... that in the future, Magic will frequently manifest in this land, and signs and wonders will appear often." Speaking too quickly, Thenya was overcome by a fit of coughing. "Cough, cough, cough. Enough of that. Let us return to the matter at hand. Second question: What are the Gods?"
Thorfinn was puzzled by the detour but answered nonetheless, "I do not know what the so-called Gods look like, but I believe that those called 'Gods'... are merely people who have mastered a mysterious power. Perhaps there are true Gods in this world, but until I truly meet one, I reserve my judgment."
Thenya stared directly at Thorfinn once more. "You truly do not resemble a child, Thorfinn."
A flicker of panic crossed Thorfinn's eyes, but looking at the frail Thenya, he remained composed. "I am merely prematurely mature."
Thenya laughed softly. "Perhaps. When I was younger, I might have been keen to seek out your little secrets, but I am old now, and my energy is not what it once was. You do not need to be wary of me, Thorfinn."
Thorfinn insisted, "Why would I? Granny Thenya, I hold you in too high a regard to be wary of you! You worry too much."
Thenya laughed more heartily. "Spare me! Do you think these old bones cannot see your little mind working? You have secrets you keep from me, but it matters not. It is no strange thing to have secrets; it simply means you are capable. This is why I dare to teach you more... the world of Magic is mysterious, wise, cruel, and bloody. Perhaps it suits someone with small secrets, like you, to step into it."
Thorfinn was silent.
Thenya continued, "Magic is a strange thing; all my life, I have only seen the tip of the iceberg. To master Magic, you must choose a source of power. Some believers of so-called Gods need only utter ancient, mysterious chants, and the God will answer them. For example, the Children of the Forest and the Green Seers draw their power from the Weirwood trees, and the Red Priests draw theirs from R'hllor. But stragglers like us must rely upon ourselves."
"Relying upon ourselves to gather power is inefficient and pitiable. Therefore, we are often found wanting when casting spells. Today, I will teach you the method for gathering power: the art of Meditation. The amount of power gathered depends on the strength of your spirit, and meditation can also increase that spirit. Whether your spirit is strong or weak, meditation will speed up the collection of power."
Thorfinn understood most of Thenya's explanation; the rest simply needed practice.
Power—it was truly something to look forward to. Thorfinn felt a buzz of excitement. It was then that Thenya poured cold water on his enthusiasm. "There is one more thing I must warn you of. The strength of your spirit is crucial, like a water bucket—the size of the bucket determines how much water it holds. If you are overly greedy, you will become reliant on the magic, and you will develop the Magic Sickness. That craving is harder to break than Milk of the Poppy. A single misstep, and it can kill you..."
Thorfinn looked at the frail Granny Thenya. "Thenya, did all this knowledge you know come from books?" As he spoke, he glanced at the books on the table.
Thenya smiled kindly. "Of course not. These seven books on the table are the accumulated treasures of my lifetime's wanderings! When I was young... I traveled throughout Westeros. I saw many people and many deeds until I settled here, in the free lands Beyond the Wall, in the latter half of my life. You know, people like me are not welcome in Westeros..."
"So, what I know did not all come from books. Though I have read a few books and benefited greatly from them, there is a difference between seeing things with your own eyes and reading about them in a scroll."
Thorfinn praised her. "I knew you were knowledgeable, Granny! To have had such a legendary journey is truly inspiring! When I grow up, I also wish to go out and see the world, just like you."
Thenya smiled. "You must not be like me. You must be better than me, Thorfinn. Do not waste your gifts. For now... run back to where you belong. If Boro worries about you and comes here making trouble, this old woman cannot protect you."
Thorfinn saw that the sky was starting to darken and gladly took her advice, leaving the wooden house. Lyra, who had been quietly listening the entire time, did not speak. She was still silently reading her book, occasionally frowning, then smiling, utterly lost in Granny Thenya's collection. To anyone watching, they would have thought the girl was half-witted.