Page 38 of Gift from the Tree

He’s a young boy running through a field of green grass. Another boy around his age, with matching eyes, follows him closely behind. It looks like they are playing tag. Chasing each other back and forth. Heads thrown back laughing in childhood innocence and wonder. The boys in this picture have long since grown up to be very different men.

The scenes change and he’s older, mid-teens maybe, losing his absolute shit over something. Punching the wall, pulling out his hair, tears rolling down his face. The room is blindingly bright, and everything in it is being flung around like what happens when I lose control of my air. I can feel his pain as if it were my own. Whatever is happening is tearing him apart. He’s screaming a name, but I can’t understand it. Three separate times, this same sort of meltdown comes from him.

Again, it changes. Him and the guys are standing around, all with drinks in their hands, and Corentin’s holding a pool stick. He’s older than when he was losing his mind in agony, but younger than they are now. His eyes are bright with delight, and one of the guys says something that makes him throw his head back, a sound so sweet and a look of pure bliss stretching across his face. It makes my heart ache to think he has this side of him locked away somewhere deep.

And finally, a much older Corentin. He doesn’t look as old as Gaster, but you can see fine lines forming on his face, and he’s smiling down at a woman, holding her close, devotion and admiration clear in his voice as he whispers sweet nothings and I love yous.

I’m pulled out the visions as fast as I was thrown into them. My heart beats out of control. My fingers still curl around my mug, but my pinky finger has wrapped itself around Corentin’s. When I glance up, he’s already looking at me.

“Why does this keep happening?” I ask quietly.

“What did you see?” he asks in a hoarse tone like he’s holding back some extreme emotions.

“You,” I whisper. “Did you see something?”

“You,” he growls. I cringe a little, knowing what he saw was not like what I saw. My life was not filled with a lot of happy moments or groups of friends to enjoy my time with.

“I don’t want to talk about the bad,” I tell him, pleading with my eyes to not bring it up right now.

“It was all bad, Willow,” he says, anger lacing his voice.

“I know.”

We stare at each other a moment longer before I untwine my pinky and pull my mug to my lips. This is the third time something like this has happened, each different, and I’m beginning to wonder if this is something to do with my gift, but since Corentin didn’t answer me and dropped it so fast instead of talking about it, that makes me both doubt and fear that assumption, like something’s wrong with me to be causing this to happen to people.

“Are you excited about tomorrow, kitten?” Draken asks, knowing how to break up a tense situation, as always.

“I guess. I think I’m more nervous than anything.”

“Don’t be nervous. I’ll be there with you,” he promises as he gives my shoulder a squeeze.

“Yeah, but you’re two years ahead of me, so I doubt we’ll have any classes together.” I appreciate him trying to ease my worries, but I need to be realistic.

“Actually, you’ll have at least two classes together and lunch as well. We tried to change Draken’s schedule up so he could be around, at least long enough for you to get comfortable, meet some people,” Corentin chimes in before drinking his coffee.

“Really?” I exclaim happily, looking between the two of them. Regardless of where me and Draken stand now, he’s someone I know, and he can help me from getting lost or making an ass of myself.

“Don’t get too excited. One of those classes is combat and the other is E.F. training.” Draken rolls his eyes, stabbing his food forcefully.

“I keep meaning to ask. What is E.F.? It hasn’t come up with anything Gaster has taught me, so it just slips my mind.” I assumed it was football or some sport but now that he said I’m in E.F. training, that doesn’t make sense, or at least I fucking hope he didn’t put me in some sports program.

“Elemental Forces,” Corentin answers.

“Like the military?” My eyes widen. I don’t want to be in the military.

Draken snickers at my panicked tone, but I’m serious. I’m not fit for the military. “If that’s what the nonmagical world calls the people who protect and keep the world safe, then yes, kitten, like the military.”

“Oh, eww. I mean, I’m thankful for their service, but why do I need training?” Switching my attention back to Corentin, I swear I see his upper lip curl up in a smirk.

“You need to learn to protect yourself,” he answers like it was obvious. I’m not looking forward to that.

“What about the rest of my classes?” I ask, curious and even more nervous now to see what else he’s enrolled me in. Hopefully, the others don’t consist of someone making me work out and yell at me.

“You’re going to spend your first-class period with Gaster in the archives, catching up on more of the basic learning that’s usually taught in the lower-mid-level academies. Then Enchantments and Air Elemental class. I know he touched on it with you a little bit, but once entering a third-year academy, it’s mostly element and gift focused, growing that power to maximum strength. Not your typical books, parchment, and classroom learning.”

“That’s exciting. I didn’t realize that. I honestly was kind of dreading sitting in a classroom flipping pages and doing homework after class.”

“Homework?” both Corentin and Draken ask at the same time.

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