Chronicles of Matthau by L. C. Perrine (best ereader for academics txt) 📕

go into the other room. As he walked into the room, he realized that it was rather plain. A chair and desk were along one wall, with a candle on the desk and a mirror on the wall above it. The light of the candle reflected off of the mirror onto a small bed, which was on the opposite wall. Looking straight ahead of him – at the wall across from the door – Matthau could see a window, which lacked any shades or blinds, but a simple set of curtains hung over the window.
He walked over to the window and opened the curtains to look out of it. He could see nothing but blackness. He turned away from the window, and walked over to lie on the bed. It may have been simple, but it was very comfortable.
“I'm going to wake up, and everything will be normal again...”

Chapter Three, Part One

He woke the next morning with his nostrils full of the aroma of bacon and eggs. His eyes adapted to the light coming in through the window as he opened them. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He got up out of the bed and walked over to the window. He could see the woods outside of the window now, but he must have been in a very discrete area of the countryside - as Hekkala had said - for he could not discern where he was from the trees he saw.
He exited through the door, and saw Hekkala standing by the stove, who looked up, saying, "Good morning, poika. Do you like bacon?"
Matthau nodded slowly, “Fuck me, it's not a dream...”

"Please, watch the vocabulary, your diction is rather offensive," Hekkala said as he put what resembled bacon onto a plate, "this isn't pig, but tastes just like bacon. How would you like me to cook your eggs?"
"Over-medium"
"Then over-medium it is," Hekkala commented as he cracked the eggs into the pan. "Be sure to fill up, lunch is a long way away when you're learning how to slay Demons, and it will not be a large one, either."
Matthau looked down at the plate as he sat, and then tried the bacon substitute. Whatever it was, it was good. Matthau came to an important conclusion: that at least this - thing - was a good cook.
Hekkala sat a plate with eggs and buttered toast in front of Matthau, and another plate for himself on the opposite side. Hekkala then began eating.
Matthau tried the eggs, which were just as good as the bacon, but tasted a little different as well. "These aren't chickens' eggs, are they?"
"No, they are duck."
"Hm, well they're good."
They sat, eating in silence, for quite some time, until Hekkala broke the silence. "Would you like to talk about your father?"
Matthau had not been expecting the question, and was surprised to see in the red eyes from across the table an emotion of worry, and of sorrow. The growling voice, that rivaled the anger of a snarling wolf, had a Demon behind it that was more human than most humans Matthau knew. But he still didn't want to talk about his father. He only shook his head, not saying anything, and returned to his food.
Hekkala didn't push the topic, which Matthau was glad for, but got up from the table to begin washing his dishes. "Don't let it weigh on your conscience,” Hekkala began. “I can understand not wishing to speak of mournful topics, but if you don't vent somehow, whether it be through literature, or whatever other medium you may choose, it will burn you. Like you said yesterday, mourning will get us nowhere, but I'd rather you mourned than to let the sorrow swelter inside of you. That can cause some very frightening results from those of us with great power like you or I"
Matthau looked up at Hekkala as he said all of this, taking in every word. Everything Hekkala said was laced with nothing but compassion. “Wow, this red-eyed demon, who I've just met, actually cares about me. Funny how he's the closest thing to a friend that I've ever really had... And a good one, at that...”

Hekkala turned around, saying, "Eventually, I will teach you to shield your thoughts. It feels so invasive when I overhear them. And I won't be the only one to hear them if you don't keep them from being heard. Back to emotions, they can greatly affect your powers, especially anger, sorrow, and other powerful, passionate emotions. They make the Flame burn more vigorously. Some Demon-Masters encourage you to embrace your emotions, and the power that they provide, but they can be devastatingly lethal if you don't have complete control over them first." Hekkala sat, and then continued, "Have you finished eating?"
Matthau looked down at his plate, only now realizing that he had eaten all of the food and that the plate was empty. He looked back up at Hekkala and nodded.
Hekkala nodded in return, "Alright then. Let's begin your training, poika." He then stood up and walked towards the door. Matthau rose and followed Hekkala.
As he exited the shack he had slept in the night before, Matthau entered a beautiful forest of deep autumn, the flame of the trees catching his eye. After he had finally shifted his gaze away from them, he looked at the green expanse that lay before him. He thought he saw something in the distance, but did not take much time in determining what it was.
Hekkala then handed Matthau a bow and a quiver full of arrows, asking, "Have you ever shot a bow before, Matthau?"
Matthau nodded as he placed the quiver over his shoulder. He drew the string, resting his thumb on his cheek. He looked down the arrow, his eyes running parallel to the grain of the wooden shaft, but his gaze much farther ahead. As he lowered the bow and guided the string back to its normal position, he thought of hunting with his father. The cold autumns spent out in the woods, patiently waiting for the deer that rarely came. But the wait was well worth the rush of adrenaline that came with the deer when they did appear. The thrill of the hunt overwhelming all of your senses, forcing concentration onto you as you aimed carefully behind the creature's shoulder, relishing in its ignorance of you, until you let the arrow fly into their lungs, killing them where they stood.
“Alright,” Hekkala began, “Do you see that target?” He pointed across the field that Matthau had just been looking down, and although Matthau didn't notice a target the first time, he double-checked. He had to squint slightly, for the sun shone directly onto his face, but he saw what he thought Hekkala must have been referring to. He could barely see it. It was more of a dark spot on the horizon than anything else, but he could tell it was about the right shape and size to be a target.
"I think so..."
"Do you think you can hit it?"
"No, I don't think anyone would be able to hit it!"
"I assure you, poika, you can."
“Alright,” Matthau said, “I guess we’ll find out, then, won’t we?”
Matthau nocked an arrow on the string, and as he drew the bow up, he pulled the string back until his thumb rested against his cheek. He aimed down the field towards the target, and then tipped the bow back so his aim was much higher than the target. He took a deep breath, and then released the arrow.
Matthau heard the thwap

of the string as it shot the arrow forward, and heard the whistle of the arrow as it flew through the air. He followed the arrow’s path through the air with his eyes, and saw the arrow’s impact - with the ground. The arrow only made it about halfway to the target.
“Try again,” Hekkala commanded.
Matthau glared at Hekkala, but, Hekkala just looked forward, waiting for Matthau to fire again.
So, Matthau repeated the whole process. He nocked another arrow, drew the bow up and pulled the string back, resting his thumb against his cheek. He aimed down the field again, only higher this time. As he loosed the arrow, he again followed its path through the air, and watched it fall only a few yards closer to the target.
Matthau sighed angrily as Hekkala again commanded him to shoot the target.
“How do you expect me to hit the damned thing, it must be four hundred yards away!”
“It’s three hundred and seventy-five yards, actually.”
“Are you serious!?” Matthau exclaimed.
“Yes, I measured it; three hundred and seventy-five yards.”
“That’s not what I meant-“
“I know,” Hekkala interrupted, “now shoot.”
Matthau nocked another arrow. He drew the bow up, and pulled the string back. As he rested his thumb against his cheek, he felt a slight tingling of warmth emanating from his hand right before he released the arrow. He followed the arrow’s path with his eyes, and noticed it was glowing a dark orange color, and a thin trail of smoke curling behind it. He watched the arrow strike the target, and the whole target immediately burst into flame.
Matthau gasped at the site, and Hekkala showed a slight level of shock as well.
“I am impressed, Matthau,” Hekkala said, “I have never before seen such a violent flame on the first shot. But, now I know what makes you tick. You need anger to trigger your talent.”
“What?”
“You need to be angry in order to call upon the Flame,” Hekkala explained, “At least for the time being. I will need to teach you a better form of control over the Flame in time, but for now, we will have to apply anger.” Hekkala began to walk away, and Matthau was quick to follow.
“How did I do that?” Matthau asked, amazed at what he had just witnessed himself do.
“The same way that you will eventually be able to make a target at that distance combust spontaneously, without the vehicle of an arrow, but, let’s focus on your archery for now. Let’s go find some supper.”

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