The Assignment

The sun cut orange slices across the sky, a gentle breeze blew from the south and Ackerly stood hungrily waiting in front of Master's quarters.

"This is a simple exercise," Master said and strode into the small yard in front of his house. He had something hidden behind his back, when Master was standing a few feet in front of Ackerly, he revealed what he was hiding: a pillow.

From one of his many pockets Master produced a silver pair of scissors, which he used to cut a fist-sized hole into the ticking. He reached inside, pulled out a single piece of down--small enough to rest on his thumbnail with room left over--and gave the second part of direction.

"Catch it with an energy orb."

Ackerly's self-confidence sank like a stone. He spoke over the lump in his throat, "Master, how? We haven't covered this yet."

"By drawing energy from what is around you."

"Like a fire?"

"Yes, a fire, flame, a horses' sweat, metal, even a baby's cry has energy."

"Can energy be drawn from people?"

"Yes."

"If I draw it from living things, won't it hurt them?"

"Only if you give it back. By and large, energy is in the air. We take it in and expel it like breath. Ready?"

The cold, crisp air nipped at Ackerly's nose, causing it to run. Ackerly used his shirt cuff as a handkerchief and nodded. Master released the down into the breeze. Ackerly saw it approach, held up his hand as if stopping a door from blowing open. The feather fell to the ground.

"Again." Master said, releasing another bit of fluff into the air. This time it sailed past Ackerly as if he were shadow.

"Keep trying." Master ordered, noticing Ackerly's face screwing up with frustration. "Camelot wasn't built in a day."

By midmorning the ground was littered with feathers. Ackerly's stomach was growling like an angry cat and his throat felt as dry as autumn leaves. His arms ached as if they were holding two anvils. And he hadn't caught a single feather. Sometimes a play of color would form just beyond the palm of his hand, but then it would burst like a bubble.

"Master, may I have some rest?"

Master looked at the sun's location in the sky, then at Ackerly's sweat soaked tunic. "How long have you been working?"

"Five hours, I think."

Master nodded and invited Ackerly to sit at a small table in the yard, at which Ackerly happily collapsed. Upon the table was another bag. Ackerly was relieved to find it was filled--not with feathers--but with a sack of wine, a loaf of brown bread, apples, pears, a thick wedge of hard cheese and two roasted chickens.

"Don't worry, they didn't sacrifice their lives for your lesson." Master said as he sat down. "Set the table."

The plates and utensils were buried in the bottom of the bag. Ackerly could have eaten with his bare hands, but he remembered the first lesson Master taught him: "Even small tasks should be done with great care."

After the utensils, plates and cups were in their proper places, Ackerly washed his hands and joined Master at table. Then they said thanks to the Gods they believed in and Ackerly ate with abandon.

"Slow down," Master warned, "you don't want to taste it twice."

"I'm sorry," Ackerly said, "but I haven't eaten since yesterday."

"You mean to say you haven't had breakfast?"

Ackerly nodded. "You said to come out first thing this morning."

Master smiled and cut an apple, placing half on Ackerly's plate.

"I didn't mean for you to deny yourself."

"I meant to get something, but I was looking forward to training."

"That was this morning. How do you feel about it now?"

Ackerly chewed on his thoughts and the apple. "I don't think I'm doing well at all."

"That's good."

"It is?"

"Yes. You shouldn't do well the first time."

"Why not? I'm trying hard enough."

"Trying hard to do what? Not make mistakes?"

"What's wrong with getting it right?"

"Nothing. Except you don't learn as much."

"I don't understand, Master. How can you not learn anything if you do it right the first time?"

"You may not believe this, Ackerly, but failure is a better teacher than success. Cruel at times, but better."

"I don't mean to offend you, Master, but sometimes you don't make any sense."

"Do I now? Well I'm not surprised. When you get to be my age, things get turned around."

"How old are you?"

"Older than the King's finest wine."

"You don't look it." Ackerly noted. Master looked like he was ready to celebrate his fiftieth winter, not a hundred and fiftieth.

"I attribute it to clean living. And always wear a hat." Master said, touching the wide brim of the pancake hat he always wore.

"Will I age as slowly as you?"

"Perhaps, maybe. It's hard to say. Ackerly, what do you think of training? I mean, now that you've been at it for a while?"

Ackerly poured two glasses of wine and served Master first.

"Would you warm it, please?" Master said, placing the glass in front of Ackerly.

Ackerly wrapped his hand around the glass, took a deep breath and released it slowly. His body cooled slightly, like the feeling you get when you walk through a spring rain. The warmth passed from him to the wine until wisps of steam rose from the wine. When he released the glass, he was shivering.

"Very good. You're learning control. Last time you made Brandywine it boiled over. Drink this, it'll warm you up." Master said and handed Ackerly the warm wine.

Ackerly thanked Master through chattering teeth.

"To answer your question, Master, it's difficult. I excel at what comes easy."

Master nodded. "That's natural. What's the most difficult lesson you've had to learn so far?"

"Patience, obedience, self-control."

"Is that all?" Master said as he dug through the bottom of the bag. When he withdrew his hand, he was holding two yeasty, sugar covered pastries. "Don't exercise self-control now, here."

"I want to learn how to do that!"

"What, make treats appear from nowhere?"

"Were they in your sleeves the whole time?" Ackerly asked and devoured half the desert in one bite.

"You eat faster than a dog." Master observed. "You'll learn that trick after you've mastered the energy orb."

Suddenly the dough nut landed on Ackerly's stomach like a rock. "I still don't understand how success doesn't teach you anything."

"I didn't say that. I said that you learn more from failing. By that I mean that you learn what doesn't work. That clears the path for you to find what does work. The trick is: don't get frustrated and give up before you find the way. Understand?"

"Well, I, ah...kind of."

"I see you struggle with what I'm trying to teach, and I try to come at the problem from every possible direction. Like your mind is a citadel to be taken by the invading armies of information. Perhaps diplomacy is best."

"What do you mean, Master?"

"Tell me about yourself. Who was your first teacher?"

"Starvation."

"Excuse me?"

"My Ma, Pa and I had a place outside of Crackbottom."

"Where is that?"

"Middle of nowhere. Nearest town is twenty or so miles. Not much, just enough acreage to scratch out a living. Kept chickens, did a little trapping and hunting. Sold pelts on market day. Whatever medicine work we needed, Ma did.

"What happened, why did your family leave?"

"Fever went around one spring and Ma and Pa died. I was fifteen and had to dig their graves. After that, I just stayed on at the place. Did the best I could until I couldn't stand being hungry any more."

"So you came to town and learned of your special talent."

"No, I knew about that before I come here. I did things, like keeping the fire lit. Before the fever came we had a rainy spell that lasted for weeks. Rain poured down the chimney and Ma couldn't keep the fire lit for anything. Well, I saw how frustrated she was and we were all cold and I thought, 'Be nice to have a roaring fire.' Next thing I knew, there were flames in the hearth and the house was warm, even though the rain was still coming down the chimney."

"What did it feel like to think the fire?"

"Scared! I never did anything like that before. Oh, sometimes I'd move things without touching them, or improve Ma's medicine recipes. But the fire? That was big and afterwards I felt full and hollow at the same time."

"That's the transfer of energy. Like with the energy orb, when you take it from the air, you'll feel like you're being filled up, like a sponge. When you give or release energy, you'll feel it flow from you. Maybe that's it?!"

"What's it, Master?"

"How do you feel when you're making an energy orb? Like you're being squeezed or filled?"

"Kind of both. It's exhausting, like having fever and chills at the same time."

"When you make an energy orb from now on, I want you to imagine that you're trying to maintain a certain...level of energy. Just enough in and just enough out. Do you think that will work for you?"

"I'll try."

"Alright then, back to work." Master said and picked up the pillow.

Ackerly cleared the table, then joined Master for practice.

"Ready?" Master asked, holding up a downy tuft.

Eems were fluttering around Ackerly's ears, stirring breezes of doubt. Ackerly shook his head and when he did, he caught sight of the water wheel. Water flowed over the top in a constant stream, turning the teeth of the wheel round and round. Slowly, an idea formed in Ackerly's mind; seeing the water wheel made him understand what Master was trying to say. In order to form the energy orb, Ackerly would have to slow down his drawing and flowing of energy. The Eems flew away.

"I'm ready." Ackerly replied.

Master released the feather into the wind. It danced on the breeze, turning and tossing until it was more than an arm's length in front of the young apprentice. Ackerly emitted a long, slow breath upon the feather's approach and raised his right arm. He cupped his hand as if he were going to catch the feather in mid-air, but before it reached Ackerly, it stopped. Master walked slowly up to Ackerly.

A few inches from Ackerly's palm floated a sphere; thin as a bubble, colors danced on its surface like light in a prism. In its center floated the feather.

"Good work, lad! Next lesson: capture and deflection."

Ackerly gulped.