“I think it means courage, but I’m sure there’s more to it,” she replied.
“Right you are. The essence of Fortitude is understood as steadiness of spirit in the face of obstacles; like a fortress of your soul. Can you ever remember a time when you were compelled toward the right thing, even though everyone was against you?”
An image of her adolescence flashed through Lythina’s mind. It was of a time when her village was being ransacked by an order from the king. Soldiers were busting through doors, looting houses in order to collect excessive taxes, and she was the only one who stood against them. She had caught a few men pillaging her home, and successfully landed a few well-aimed kicks between their legs. Once they had curled over, she heard a scream from upstairs…
But that’s when the memory vanished. She couldn’t persuade her mind to go any farther, and she shook her head to erase the thought. Jonas was studying her carefully, noting her expressions. He’d seen pain inside her eyes, a pain she didn’t want to acknowledge.
He continued, “even in the face of death, if we hold true to our beliefs, we are practicing the essence of Fortitude.” He turned to face her, and examined her posture with the concentration of an instructor. “I want you to jump.”
Stunned, Lythina froze for a second. “Jump?”
“Yes. Straight up into the air. You can do that, can’t you?” he asked with a tone that might’ve possibly been considering becoming impatient.
Surprised, but eager to continue her training, Lythina crouched and simply jumped up into the air. Arms out, dress curling around her body, she hung for a moment, and dropped back to the earth with an ungraceful stumble. After she composed herself, she pushed her blushing face up to look at Jonas.
“I’ll get it better next time,” Lythina defended.
“I believe you,” Jonas assured. “Now, try to remember the moment you thought of before, the one you shook your head at. How did you feel at the time?”
“I was scared out of my mind, but I was going to defend my home. I couldn’t understand how other people just left their houses and their lives behind.”
“Good! Hold onto that feeling! Let it move through you until it motivates you into action. And when you’re ready, jump again.”
Closing her eyes, Lythina recalled that same memory. She remembered how the soldiers’ furious eyes pierced her, shoved her backward against her will, but she ran forward and put everything into her swinging leg, just as her Aunt had taught her. And she suddenly remembered a curious blue flash of light that burst from her foot an instant before it connected with the men. It made her tremble with exhilaration in front of Jonas, and she instantly crouched, then forced her legs straight.
Lythina shot into the air, and everyone in the glade recoiled as a burst of blue light brightened the clearing. High above Jonas, watching as he shrank away from her, Lythina exploded with excitement as she soared toward the treetops. But her excitement ended when she stopped in mid air, and started drifting back toward the forest floor. The blue light was dissipating, and she suddenly realized that she didn’t know how to brace herself when she collided with the ground. But she held her concentration on the courage she felt after defeating those men, and as she plummeted toward the forest floor, she placed her footing and cushioned her body from the impact.
With only a soft crunch from the moss, Lythina landed back on the earth. The impact was so gentle, she felt as if she had merely hopped.
“Did you see that!? It wor —,” she exclaimed, until she noticed that all of her friends were absolutely still, staring at her. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Lythina, what was that?” Radna said as she ran up, searching her face as if it held a clue as to the origin of the light.
“Well, Jonas was teaching me how to focus Fortitude and asked me to jump, so I —.”
“No, not that,” Radna interrupted, “The blue light? Didn’t you see it?”
“Oh, that, yea, that happens sometimes when I’m really emotional about something.”
She could sense that her ordinary expression was somewhat distressing to Radna, so she changed it to concern. “Don’t you guys do that too?”
“No, Lythina.” It was Jonas who spoke this time, boring into her eyes with curiosity. “No one on this isle has ever been able to conjure light with their abilities. Where did you learn that?”
By now, Riley and Emma had joined the group, and its collective anxiety was beginning to impress on Lythina’s personal space. Seeing a chance to practice Fortitude, she braced herself against the solid earth and met their passion with her own.
“I’ve done that my entire life, since I can remember,” She stated boldly, as if she’d chosen it. “Whenever I’m really focused, or overcome with emotion about something, my actions are enhanced by the light. Whatever I do to provoke it, that action becomes stronger. I remember one time when I was a little girl, when my Aunt wanted me to come inside for the night, and I protested. I stomped my foot, and the light sparked underneath it. I went inside anyway, but my aunt told me later that I’d left a burnt crater where my foot hit. Things like that have always happened. I just figured that it was magick passed on to me from my ancestors. I never got into it though.”
“That’s incredible,” Emma breathed.
“Does it hurt?” asked Riley.
“No, not at all,” Lythina replied. Her courage was growing against their hard stares, and she looked to Radna for an answer. “Do you think that’s magick?”
Deep in concentration, Radna left the group to pace around the glade. “Yes, I do. It’s more magick than I’ve ever seen. Most magick is done with candles and spells and such, but to physically produce it is extraordinary.” She must’ve decided something because she quickly rejoined them. “It’s getting late, and I’ve got some research to do. I’ll meet up with you all later.”
“Is something wrong?” Lythina asked.
“No, no, nothing. I’m just really interested in this, that’s all.” She gave Lythina a deep hug, and quickly left the clearing.
“ — wonder what that was all about,” said Emma.
But Riley seized the opportunity. She skipped over to Lythina, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the middle of the glade. “So, practicing Justice sounds simple enough,” she chimed, “but when do we really get a chance to make just decisions in our daily lives, I mean besides compromising with your friends about what to have for dinner?” They were facing each other now, Riley staring into Lythina’s slightly uncomfortable expression.
“I suppose I see what you mean,” Lythina replied. “It’s not very often we get to rule the kingdom, or anything.”
“Precisely. So, how do we practice?” Riley clasped her hands behind her back and started slowly pacing to and fro in front of Lythina. She walked with a deliberate purposefulness, placing her footsteps with guided accuracy. For a moment, she reminded Lythina of a dancer from her home village.
“Because Justice is a spiritual virtue, it begins within your soul. Deep inside, from when we decide to leave our dreams in the morning to why we choose to crush the grass beneath our feet when we walk, we are constantly making tiny unconscious decisions. If we can learn to understand and adjust those decisions at the spiritual level, then our conscious decisions become that much more objective.”
“That sounds a little complicated,” said Lythina as she watched Riley’s graceful steps. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“It’s