Aspen Ch. 2

Chapter 2

Aspen's eyes were blurry when she finally opened them around noon. She was in her bed, her braid taken out and her pillows billowing from behind her propped head.
"You're awake." Said a voice, one she didn't recognize.
Her head hurt but she turned it slowly, eyes darting around her room. They settled on a blonde young man sitting in her wheelchair, rolling it back and forth with his heel, his legs crossed and his hands on his knees.
"Who-?" she began, then realized, "Heath."
"Oh, you remembered!" he stood and grinned.
"What . . . why are you in my room?" she whispered incredulously.
"Your maid, dear Pamela, asked me to keep you company while she readied a mug of cider for you, and something to calm your head." He smiled politely and sat back down.
Mouth open agape, Aspen stared at him. How could her parents allow a stranger into her room, regardless of if he was to be her future tutor? He wasn't her tutor yet, he had not right.
She pulled her blankets over her body, though she was still wearing the clothes from earlier.
"Mr. Coratolli," she warned, "Do you not see the indecency of a man and a young lady being alone together with no chaperone?"
"Dear Aspen, I am your chaperone for the moment and you were sleeping so soundly."
"That's what's indecent!" she croaked.
"But you looked so cute sleeping." Heath pouted, his eyes twinkling. What a peculiar man!
Aspen was about to protest when, cheeks flaming with a slight color, the door clicked shut and Pamela rushed in carrying a tray.
"Ah, see," Heath smirked. "She's back."
Aspen glared at him; a mild glare but a glare none the less. Being active in conversations with Heath was wearing her out. No one ever argued with her and she wasn't used to being so . . . alert. She became silent and drank her cider with Heath watching her. Pamela was fluttering over her, tucking in covers here, fluffing pillows there. She always did this, and it got on Aspen's nerves. But she'd never tell her. Pamela did so much for her, more than a woman in her mid fifties should.  She was like some grandmother Aspen never knew.
Pamela finished boggling over her and Aspen gave her a weak smile.
"Your mother said Mr. Coratolli will be staying to tutor you." She said, taking Aspen's mug from her. Aspen's eyes darted to give a judging look at Heath.
"Well you may tell my mother-"
"And your father said you are not to argue back." Pamela smiled.
"But it's indecent!" Aspen hissed.
"Your parents have had hours to get to know Heath Coratolli. They've looked at his work and believe he is more than brilliant. As a teacher he's to teach you, not to harm you. It's not indecent for a teacher to be alone with a pupil." Pamela whispered in a rush.
She pulled away before Aspen could protest further and gave Heath a polite nod. Heath grinned, his eyes cool, and opened the door for Pamela on her way out.
When Heath came back to sit in her wheelchair he asked, "When do you think they'll call us down for lunch? I mean, I know I'm a guest in your house but I don't think it's wrong to say I'm starving, do you?"
"I don't go downstairs for meals."  Her face was blank as she said this sternly.
"Ah, oh . . ." Heath mumbled awkwardly. "Right, with this morning's incident."
"I never go downstairs." Aspen clarified.
"Never? You are confined to living up here then?"  He looked around her huge room, his tenor voice echoing off the walls.
"I haven't been downstairs in nearly two years, save for this morning."  She whispered darkly, sadly.
"That's awful." Heath said concerned.
Aspen looked at him, ready to snap. "Well how can I, knowing it's a lot of trouble to cart me up and down. I can't stand without getting light headed and my heart pounding harshly." Light tears pricked at her eyes. "Why should my parents have my company when I'm such a bother to them?"
Heath sat, his eyes unfocused, thinking. He barely heard this, but he understood.
"I see, well that's why I'm here I suppose. To keep you company, teach you, be your friend." he smiled slightly. He smiled a lot, and it made Aspen feel slightly better. Slightly. It quickly faded.
"So my parents are lucky? A stranger shows up and to their relief, is willing to take their troublesome, ill daughter off their hands?" she nearly spat the words out at him. "And to make matters worse, you 'travel with the wind'" she rolled her eyes. "I don't know how long you will stay – when will the wind blow you away again." She whispered the last part, looking despairingly out the window.
Heath leaned forward, his palms on the edge of her green quilt, his face close. "The good thing about the wind is it's resistible. The thing about me is, I can stay anywhere as long as I please. As long as you want me here-" He saw her face pout. "As long as your parents want me here."
"What I want is for the complete stranger to get out of my room." She spoke icily smooth.
"Tsk, tsk. " Heath chided "You must listen to your teacher."
Aspen 'hmphed', "If I had the strength to get up and push you out-" she threatened.
"If you had the strength I wouldn't be here."
Her emotions shut down at this. Her face became a hard mask. She wouldn't cry, she was getting sick of that. Instead she scolded and hissed flatly, "Out."
Heath's joking manner shut off too. His smile slipped from his mouth to a grimace. He stood, bowed and whispered, "Of course Miss Aspen. I'm sorry to have troubled you."
Aspen watched him go, her anger flaring down and settling to a small ember. She felt bad that he felt he had to leave. Of course, his comments were harsh even if he didn't think so. Aspen was sensitive about her illness, after living with it for so long, she tried to ignore it; she tried but then, her lack of strength was a constant in her mind.
"Pamela," she called, but she knew no one would hear here, even if they were standing right outside her door and she didn't feel like pulling the rope that rang the bell in the kitchen.
With nothing to do, Aspen rolled over and shut her eyes.

She didn't have to try to sleep long; Pamela came in with Aspen's lunch not five minutes after Heath left.
"Miss Aspen," Pamela shook Aspen's arm and jumped when Aspen turned her head quickly, her eyes already open.
"Oh, Pamela," she breathed.
"Um, I brought lunch. Why did Mr. Coratolli go?"
Aspen didn't look Pamela in the eye, "He and I had a little argument. . ."
"You don't really have to say whether or not you approve of him, your parents want him to teach you. It's as simple as that."
"I can teach myself." The girl in the bed mumbled.
"Well, then maybe to be your friend." Pamela smiled warmly.
Aspen scolded, hearing what she and Heath had disagreed over a few minutes before.
"You're my friend, Pamela." She whispered weakly.
"I have other duties to your parents, dear. Mr. Coratolli is here to keep you company. And," she continued. "How much of a welcome is that for you to throw him out, hm?"
Aspen was silent, not a surprise to Pamela, but Aspen had her head down and was looking at her clasped hands in her lap, thinking.
"Bring my lunch here, Pamela. I'll take it in bed."
"Alright," Pamela sighed reluctantly. She brought the tray to Aspen and asked dutifully, "Anything else?"
"No," Aspen pouted simply.
Pamela turned to leave and Aspen watched her go.
A turkey, swiss cheese and lettuce sandwich stared up at her, flanked by a bowl of vegetable soup and a slice apple. Aspen stared back, not in the mood to eat, but she picked up the sandwich and ate her lunch quickly. She wanted to apologize to Heath.
She pushed the tray away, and sat carefully up, swung her little limp feet over the bed to rest on the floor, and, with effort, she was able to use the bed post to get up and into her wheelchair (It was a good day when she could do things for herself.) Aspen glided to the bathroom first; after all, she'd been up before dawn. She then brushed her hair as she saw it was a horrid tangle in the looking glass.
The door creaked slightly when it opened wide enough to allow her wheelchair to pass through but Aspen ignored it and left her bedroom. She turned her wheelchair to check down the hall, watching her feet, but she saw she'd stopped as she bumped into a pair of legs.
Aspen's gaze shot up to look into Heath's face, which was closer than she expected. He was bent over, his arm now resting on her armrest and his wide grin spread over his full lips.
"Ah, Miss Aspen, missed me that much did we?"
Aspen blinked in surprise and rolled her chair back a bit. Heath straightened up.
"Well," Aspen said, she too straightening herself and sitting taller. "since you've come to me, you won't mind escorting me to the library."
Heath's uncovered eyebrow quirked, "The library?"
"Yes," Aspen nodded.
"Does this mean you'll allow me to tutor you?"
Aspen said nothing, turning her head to make it obvious she was very interested in a painting on the wall. "I have no choice; it is the wish of my parents."
Heath gave in with a knowing look and grasped the handles of the wheelchair. "So what changed your mind?"
Aspen thought, but said, "You said you could be a friend. You said you traveled all over. I thought after I sent you away, maybe you are the one in need of a friend . . ." she bit her lip, glad he couldn't see her thoughtful expression. She wasn't one to outright reveal her emotions.
"Hm," murmured Heath, "thank you, how considerate you are, Miss.  So you won't mind my teaching you? Or do you simply feel obligated to since I'm here?"
Aspen was silent except for a small whisper of, "The library is that door, there."
Heath quieted and pushed through the door into the library. His eyes scanned up at the ceiling that seemed so far away, a look of intense awe splayed across his features. Aspen flicker her eyes to him, rolled them, and wheeled over to an ebony carven table. Heath sat down in a chair across from her.
"Was there a particular reason you wanted to come to the library? And, by Lumadane, do all these books belong to your family?"
Aspen nodded, "No one ever comes into the library but me, not even Bernie or Pamela." She was confused by his expression for wonderment and didn't answer the second question, but Heath thought he already had his answer.
"So . . ." he didn't see into her mind so he was left in the dark as to their purpose for the visit to the room. "Did you not want to be disturbed in your studies?"
"No, at least, not exactly," Aspen thought a moment. "I've studied almost everything."
"Come now, that can't be- Alright then, what-"
"I want you to teach e magic." Aspen commanded in a whisper.
Heath stared at her with an amused expression. "Magic?" his smile twitched. "And, what would you do with such power once and if you learned it?"
Aspen shrugged. She felt foolish now. What was she thinking, asking this man to teach her magic?
"Would you use it to get your strength back?"
"Maybe," she mumbled. "But I never had any to begin with."
"Replacing Magic isn't that simple." Heath sighed.
"I don't need to replace any; I just need a bit of my own to start with."
Heath laughed. "No, not replacing magic, Replacing Magic: returning a skill or a part of someone. Or simply giving what was never owned for a price."
Aspen blinked, eye brows risen toward her straight hairline.
"Of course," Heath continued, "you wouldn't use that. You're a good girl, the daughter of a wealthy banker – yes I have been talking to your father." He winked, a cheshire cat grin seeping over his white teeth.
"Maybe not," she breathed hotly
"Care for me to start at the beginning?"
"Where would that be?" a grin, possibly flirtatious, though unintentional, beamed from her pale mouth.
"The beginning of course! The start, prelude, introduction," His voice grew louder as he rambled, standing straighter and gesturing to the domed fortress above them. "Prologue, inaugural, opening, initiation birth, rise!"
Aspen shrank back in her chair.
"Once upon a time?" he sat back down, calming himself at her expression.
"You're insane . . ." she hissed.
"Quite," he said, scooting in his chair. "Oh, of course I'm not, don't give me that look. I assure you, I'm quite lucid."
"Then where, pray tell, is the beginning?" agitation twitched in her brow.

"Astronomy. You know of it I presume?"
"That's science-"
Heath interrupted with a sarcastic edge in his voice. "Very good, I must commend you-"
"I don't see the magic in that?"
Her new tutor rose to pace to a tall arched window, his hands behind his dirty stained khaki coat.
"Nay, Miss Aspen. The stars began all. You don't have magic without the stars. Do you know what rules the stars? No it isn't a god, according to my understanding, though perhaps a god rules her. The moon rules the stars. Without the mother moon, Lumadane, the stars – with their unlimited eternity of magic – would cease to shine and time itself would warp in a catastrophe."
His back was to her as he stood at the window, but Aspen could see his head was bowed in a kind of reverence.
"So, the moon is. . ." Aspen prompted him, not fully understanding.
"The moon is the source of all magic, and a mages best friend. You don't cast a spell without Lumadane's knowledge." Heath's voice grew peculiarly dark.
"Um," Aspen's quiet throat clearance made Heath turn to look at her. But she was surprised to see his grin flash her way.
"So, you've learned the moon's true name. We mages call her Lumadane, yes? Right." He nodded and began pacing again, over to the fiction section. He paused to withdraw a book from its shelf, glance at its title, and cast is away again.
"Now for the history of mages themselves."
"Would mages perchance begin back before the medieval era?" Aspen pointed, somewhat raising her hand to him near her forehead. But she placed it back in her lap as it proved to make her weak arm shake.
"Oh, far before that. Now, stop talking." He pointed quickly at her, suddenly in her face. He looked down at her, his right eyes covered by his hair's shadow. But she thought she saw it glint back at her, black as night.
"Then go on." She whispered, gesturing to him as if he should lay his words out on the table before them.
Heath sighed, flopped into the chair again and continued. "Mages were created when a great asteroid fell from space, far before this B.C. and A.D. stuff in time began. Unwritten history has told that it was a perfect sphere or purple, grey, and red light swirling and steaming that stopped just at the world's atmosphere. Shards and dust burst from it and fell to earth. The shards did nothing on dry land, but to the few humans at the time who were brave enough to drink the water that shone with the shards light before they faded, gained the ability to wield the power of the stars, shared the connection to the moon the stars had."
"How quickly did the shards fade?" Aspen asked, though skeptical of Heath seemingly farfetched story.
"Think of them as fire embers. The curious and brave – yet probably stupid, oh forgive me, unintelligent – cavemen that they were, drank the water and received wisdom of the universe. Where do you think they got the idea for fire?  Those who were afraid of the glowing water missed out-"
"What about the dust?"
"The what?" he tilted his head.
"The dust, you said there was dust that fell besides the shards."
"Ah, well you see, that soaked into the very atmosphere. It may not look it, but our air is filled with magic flowing and fluttering about. You can't see it, but I do. I am descended from the crazy cavemen who drank glowing water." He gave her a wild smirk and she smiled a bit.
"Then, could someone who isn't descended as far as they know, be able to use magic?"
"Well, there's a certain feel for it in the air-"
"So-"
"Silentium!" Heath's eyes closed, his hands on his closed eye. "Good gracious, how am I to explain what am must come out ludicrous to you when you insist on interrupting with questions?"
"Wha-?" she tensed quizzically.
"Silentium," .Heath repeated with a sigh. He opened his eyes – the one she could see – to gaze carefully at her. His head quirked again. "You don't know its meaning?"
Aspen shook her head tentatively.
Heath leaned forward placing his elbows on the table between them and pressing his fingertips together. "Aspen, how many languages do you speak?"  
The sudden topic transition startled her. He moved and spoke so fast, it took energy just to keep up. She stuttered, "T-three, if you include English."
"Only three? Oh, you poor naïve child," he gasped dramatically. "We must put this magic talk on pause-"
"Ah, but-"
"Do hush, s'il vous plâit?"
"I am fluent in French as well as German." Arms crossed over her chest she gave him a pointed look.
"Aren't we accomplished?" eyebrow raised Heath smirked back. "I'm afraid you don't know quite as much as you think you do, or as you should. You see, I happen to be fluent in English, – of course – Italian, Germen, Spanish, and French. I also know a tad bit of Russian, Polish, Latin, Greek, Ukrainian, Japanese, Arabic, and Islander." He winked and his prideful grin seemed to slap her in her face.
"Twelve languages?" she gasped.
"And I am only twenty." Heath pointed. "You know only three if you count your native tongue. To catch up to me, you have four years to learn all of those."
"You have to be joking!" Aspen wailed, her already strained voice breaking.
"Of course I am!" Heath chuckled. "Oh, but really, how can you say you don't need a tutor when you practically know nothing? I am afraid magic will have to come another day. I need to find out what else you lack in knowledge."