The Master and Apprentice

Shadows danced in the firelight as the acrid smell of smoke crept from burning green wood. Steven whittled quietly upwind of the fire, shaping a dry piece of wood he pulled from his pack. Argen lounged on his bedroll, avoiding the smoke. He had a full stomach and though tired, he felt vitalized. Not since Uncle Din’s death had he felt so safe. Steven, aside from showing him how to control the rift, was a kind, gentle instructor; harsh at times, with high expectations, but fair and just. Uncle Din had been a good teacher; Steven was an excellent master.