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How to Cheat at Fishing
An Introvert's Guide to Making Friends

“Stop.”

Lithian froze mid-move, confused as he held the orb of water under his control aloft. After a moment, he said, “But I wasn’t finish—”

“Release,” his instructor said, and Lithian obediently let his stance and magical grip on the water break, water falling back into the the hole cut in the ice at his feet. He and the other peisio adepts were taking their physical exams out over a frozen ‘lake’ — though, as far as Lith knew, it might have been seawater — pulling their element up from the pre-made opening in the ice and performing their sets for critique and instruction. “Do it again, but this time without the water.”

Lithian blinked, frowning as he pulled together to a stand. “Without…?”

“I already know your magic control is strong, Lithian,” she said, standing. “But this is a stance exam, not a magic show. You are using your magic as a crutch to make up for your lack of martial progress, and because you are gifted in that area, so far your performances overall are still strong, but your weaknesses…” She pushed at his shoulder with her fingertips, just enough to disrupt his balance and made him shift his position and stagger sidelong, flushing, “…are still more than evident. When your body cannot keep up with your mind, you strain your magical energy more than necessary. Your physical form is a vessel for your energy. It is a tool, and when not applied properly, you put unnecessary pressure on other areas.”

The professor watched as Lithian’s cheeks burned and then took a step back.

“Show me again. Without the water.”

Lithian breathed out, tense and flustered. He used the water to ground him, and without it, his movements felt empty. Naked. Choppy, somehow and sparsed together, thrown into a messy jumble without any connecting element. He bowed, though, regardless, and began his form as promised, trying to remember the motions without his element there to guide him around. He dipped, pressing his palms down, then opened his stance, lifting one palm up—

His professor caught his wrist, adjusting its position and then tapped at the tips of his fingers, making him curl them in with a wince. She tutted.

“Weak. Keep your palm flat, fingers straight, forceful. Like a spear. We are not mages, Lithian. We are dovaa. We do not learn our magic in the backs of dusty halls from decaying books and study until our spellwork is all that we have left to defend our fragile, useless bodies. Our bodies are a part of our spellwork. Our magic is the earth and the sky, the sea, and the wind. Our body is the tunnel through which our magic glides, the sheath where we store it. It is essential.”

She moved back again, giving him space.

“Continue.”

Lithian bit his lip, but forced his trembling limbs to move on — all nerves now, not even weakness. Every step he took, however, she seemed to be correcting him: repositioning his waist, adjusting his back, tilting his chin, lifting his wrists, straightening his fingers, re-angling the point of his toes, deepening his stance. By the time he made it through that one set, Lithian felt like a pretzel, critiqued, bent, and corrected until his mind felt it had no room to even begin to process all the issues he had.

“Finished,” his instructor said, and Lithian breathed sharply out, body sagging in defeat as he reached up to rub at his shoulder. “You have much work to do.” Her eyes flicked to him. “But do not let that harm your progression on all fronts. Your magic is impressive…it simply cannot be your only strong suit, or you will never be able to harness it to the best of your capabilities. Try to remember that our magic is not like the other races’. Our strength is our element, and it is executed through a balance of strength and mental integrity. Overemphasize one and ignore the other, and you will cripple yourself in the end.”

Lithian flushed, again, and dipped his head. “Yes, Master Atelei.”

“Dismissed.”

More grateful than he dared to admit, Lithian prepared immediately to leave and retreat back to the main camp. Perhaps sleep. Or read. Or…anything that didn’t involve ‘fine tuning his martial art.’

Lithian whipped around at the sharp, unexpected sound, and nearly slipped in his surprise upon seeing—

“Casseth?” Lithian flushed, chest a mottled jumble between giddy excitement, startlement, and growing panic. On the one hand, he was more thrilled than he dared admit to see the boy again. He’d spent far too long already bemoaning the likelihood that he never would, and just laying eyes on him alleviated that unspoken fear. With his relief, however, fear for Casseth followed close behind. His instructors might have been civil enough when it came to retrieving him and putting quick distance between themselves and Casseth’s father, a grown oblivionite, but by no means did Lithian trust anyone in his camp to treat Casseth, a young obvious hybrid, with even decency, let alone welcoming arms.

As such, he found himself darting over, catching Casseth’s wrist and urging him back behind what Lithian guessed to be his former hiding place. Immediately after, he dropped the boy’s wrist, flushing all the more warmly.

“What are you doing h—what if someone saw you—? You could get hurt, or killed. Are you alright? How did you find me? Does your father know you’re here? Hello.” Lithian frowned, realizing in retrospect that his greeting may not have came in the best possible order. Thus, he cleared his throat, softly, not wanting to draw any more attention than they already might have, and glanced up to Casseth. “Shall I start over? I don’t think that came out the way I intended it in my head…”

Lithian blinked. “Fish?”

Over his initial panic, Lithian relaxed a tad, and some of his initial excitement fluttered back into his chest and throat. Casseth had come to see him? He rubbed the back of his hand against his warm cheeks and refocused his attention in the direction Cas was looking, but his shoulders dropped a half fraction at the sight, a half-wince staining his expression.

“Oh, that. You weren’t…watching, were you? Gods, that was embarrassing. We were taking physicals today — running through the form and stance aspects of our magic application.” He rubbed at a horn, hoping Casseth hadn’t seen too much of his abysmal performance. “I’m awful at applying myself physically. Touching into my magic is easy, but when it comes to getting my body to cooperate…” Lithian breathed out, blowing up against his face to knock a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Did you say something about fishing? That sounds way more fun than anything going on around here.”

Additionally, Lithian didn’t want to risk Casseth getting caught or — Abronaxus forbid — hurt thanks to coming to see him. Not to mention the thought of spending more time with Casseth on his own, without the looming presence of his father who — while kind enough overall — still intimidated Lithian to no end, was more than a bit appealing.

Lithian grinned. “I’d rather be anywhere but here,” he answered, honestly eager to get out and ecstatic that Cas had offered. He blinked at the latter bit, though, following Casseth as he started off and trying not to glance warily over his shoulder too often, still concerned that someone would catch them. “Waiting for a fish to bite…?” he asked, eager to distract himself from his worry. “On what? Don’t you fish with…nets, or something? And don’t worry.” He smiled. “I’m perfectly capable of getting lost on my own. If we did, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Lithian blinked, watching with rooted curiosity as Casseth drew out a long, narrow wooden pole. At first, he wondered if it was some kind of weapon, and the attached line and vicious looking hook at its end seemed to support that assumption, but no — fishing, Casseth said. Lithian tilted his head.

“So the fish are supposed to bite on the…? Why would they—” Seconds before he finished that sentence, though, Casseth began rummaging around through a small package with multiple thin scraps of meat. “Ohhhh…”

Lithian moved over, closer to the edge of the section of ice where it had been cut through to the water beneath. He eyed it thoughtfully for a moment, then took a step back, plucking at the water beneath, drawing it up, and then rolling it out over the ice in a thin wave, washing off and melting back the snow in places and frost in others until the decently thick ice was nearly transparent. When he’d cleared a fairly large area around the fishing hole, he ushered the water back through the hole and eyed his handiwork, watching the paths of several fish below intently.

“How do you convince the fish to move nearer to your pole? Do they smell the meat as soon as you put it in?”

Lithian glanced over. ‘I’d rather be out here with you,’ lingered for a long moment on the tip of his tongue, but eventually he let it fall by the wayside, blushing and focusing on Cas’ other question instead. Easier to respond to without embarrassing himself.

“When I was very small, my parents thought they would lose me to the realm of spirits before I reached my fifth year.” He eyed the water as he spoke, idly sending gullies of current beside the fishes and schooling them off to one side or another. “I spent most of my time in bed, tended to by various healers. I don’t remember much of it, of course, I was so young…but my parents always told me, growing up, that if it had not been for their skill and aid, I would not still be breathing today. So…” He shrugged. “For that, I always knew I wanted to heal, but for many years I couldn’t choose between ysali and peisio.”

Curious, he shifted the pull of his miniature currents, playing a game of trying to gather up as many small fish as he could spot and herd them over, beneath the ice, closer to where Casseth was sitting.

“Both of my parents are gaili, as is my eldest brother. My eldest sister is firani, and no one in my family was any breed of healer, but…I’ve always felt at peace in the water — thought that, if I must die one day, I would want it to be beneath the waves. It’s…quiet, under the surface, beautiful, and untouched. Water is always very flexible, bending itself to the will and shape of other things, and…in that way, I think it is much like me…”

The corner of Lith’s lip edged up, a grin itching to crawl into place as he stirred a very condensed whirlpool wall around the congested school of fish now hopping and splashing out of the water and back in in fright near Casseth’s hook.

“Have you thought more about what speaks to you most? My largest experiences with the gaili and firani clans are my parents, sister, and brothers. Both…have their merits.” He frowned briefly, thinking on Ysette. As much as he loved her, her passion, ferocity and sheer pride frightened him sometimes. He worried it would get her hurt in the end — if not far worse.

Lith pursed his lips at the fish, irritated — mildly — that he’d worked them all the way over and they still hadn’t bothered to bite. Impatient, and a little upset besides to see Casseth look so disappointed, Lithian dipped sidelong, curving one palm low and the other over it in two semi-circles, cupping at as much of the fish-laden water as he could at once with his magic. Then, in one curt swoop, he tugged all of it up in a tunnel-esque wave, jerking his stance to the side and sending the pile of them skidding and flopping out across the ice.

Twelve, at least, though most were fairly small.

Lithian breathed out and smiled, satisfied. “Gaili is a good clan. I have always felt safe around my parents. And my brothers who chose gaili…they’re both very steady and protective. They…make me feel as though if need be, they could bend the world up to shield me.”

Lithian laughed beneath his breath, tugging at a loose strand of hair abashedly.

“I suppose in a sense, they can do just that. My sister, Ysette, she’s firani, and…it is beautiful to watch her dance with fire. It can be like water, I suppose, but…” He tilted his head with an understated frown, trying to find the right words. “When a peisio dovaa messes up, the worst they can do is get a crowd wet. When a firani messes up…they can burn their family. I love my sister, but sometimes I fear for her. She…” He flushed, glancing sidelong to Casseth uncertainly, “…she isn’t particularly…free-thinking…when dealing with any race but dovaa and orderite, either…”

Lithian stared, wide-eyed at first, and then blushed hotly, trying to look anywhere but directly at Casseth’s wings, not wanting to be rude but desperately wanting to study every detail just the same.

“You—you…you have wings,” he said. Not, perhaps, his most eloquent moment. “Already? And two different kinds!”

His pulse picked up as he moved over towards Casseth, attempts at not staring failing miserably and eyes darting over the details as he walked. Kneeling in the snow beside him, he started to reach out, but jerked his fingers back preemptively, abashed. If staring was rude, touching without permission would be far worse.

“They look amazing,” he said instead. “I’ve never seen a combination like that before…and, er…” Glancing briefly to the still-wiggling satchel of fish, Lithian smiled sheepishly. “You’re welcome. If you ever want to go fishing again…” He trailed off and blinked, brow pinching together as a thought occurred to him. “How will you explain to your father how you caught them all?”