Istredd can tell right away this is going to be the source of Wilhelm's problem for a long time. It isn't his magic that is truly the problem, it is all the emotions around it, and the anxiety it is creating. He is very in tune with other people, especially in his own domain, so he is concerned when he can tell something has gone wrong.
Stregobor would have been vicious. With mage training, going gentle was never an option. Their patience only lasted so long and if you didn't succeed, you had a much worse fate to live through. He pushed and Istredd sometimes pushes too, leading him to remember who he didn't want to be. Lucifer taunted him once, and it hit the mark. You were robbed of a choice, mm? Why should they get one? Because you didn't? It worked in getting under his skin, and it's why he closes the space between them.
"It's alright, Wilhelm. Take a deep breath, in and out." Without thinking about it, he puts a hand on Wilhelm's shoulder, gentle, supportive. Sometimes Stregobor did that too, but it was manipulative, and Istredd is not that. "Look at me." He hopes that Wilhelm will do exactly that, blue eyes apologetic. "I'm sorry, it was my fault. I pushed you too fast." This is a deeper trauma than he thought and a deeper trigger. He shouldn't be pushing when it was this hard to get Wilhelm here.
"We'll get there. It's a process. We're going to do this the opposite way. You tell me when you want to try that again. And until you do, we'll keep doing our fire manipulation training." Because that is what they were doing. Wilhelm was manipulating fire that Istredd himself created, but he was doing it well. They still have a lot to learn there. And by putting the power of choice in Wilhelm's hands about when he feels ready, it makes it less likely he'll get back to this place.
Istredd's hand on his shoulder acts as an anchor as Wilhelm gulps down air and tries to pull himself together. Tries not to puke, clamping his lips together and swallowing. Tries not to cry, pinching his eyes shut. His fingers tighten in his hair, and his elbows form a barricade around his face, through which he peeks when Istredd encourages him, Look at me. He feels weak, and stupid, and stuck.
"I don't get why I can't just do it," he mutters, the words burning in his throat. "I know nothing that bad can happen. It's not like my magic is powerful enough to do that on its own, but —"
He lets go of an unsteady breath, lets his arms swing away from his face. He steps back, eyes leaving Istredd.
"I don't know, I just get so freaked out."
Every time he reaches for that fire burning somewhere inside, he hurtles back to that searing moment fireballs swallowed Libertas and, as he did in the catatonic days that followed, he shuts down. He worries that he'll never be ready. The memory will never heal, but continue to fester. Istredd's offer is kind, but he's just prolonging the inevitable: eventually, he would realize that he has wasted his time on Wilhelm.
Istredd lets him go once he moves away, wanting him to find his own way of centering. It does not look good though, he is struggling deeply. Lucifer was not wrong when he said Wilhelm was dangerous to himself. Fixing that was going to take time.
"Because the mind and emotions are very powerful, and if they aren't in perfect concert, they can block people. I've been a mage for over sixty years, and I can still get in my own way." Usually because of emotions. They are definitely the worst, and he is so calm and centered in part to try and keep them from messing him up. But he has them, strongly, under the surface. Istredd is much older than he looks, obviously.
"If you truly think you're responsible for what happened, no one can convince you otherwise. You're holding that in your head and heart. But it also only just happened a few months ago. The trauma hasn't faded from most people." Istredd can only imagine how much trauma still hangs over everyone in Free Cities, having witnessed and experienced it firsthand. The aftermath of that attack effects all of the Summoned, but it's to different levels of tragedy and trauma.
"Give yourself time. Whether it seems obvious to you now or not, the fire manipulation we're working on will help you. The stronger your mind is with magic in general, the better your reaction time will be."
He's trying to follow Istredd's words, because they provide something to tie his fraying focus to — something other than the amorphous dread sloshing around inside of him, swallowing him whole. Give yourself time. Wilhelm is tired of waiting to feel okay. Every fucking day is an obstacle course to get through. He rubs at his chest, trying to clear the weight that's clumped there.
Whatever answer he's halfway through forming, it scatters as his stomach heaves again. Gagging, he doubles over and tries to hold it down, but it surges up his throat. Splat, right on the stately floor. He spits out the taste of vomit, wipes the heel of his hand across his mouth. Even when he straightens up, his gaze stays on the floor.
"Sorry."
Eyes closed, Wilhelm pushes his hands through his hair, slowly, like the breath he sucks in. He hates losing it where he can be watched.
"I need to..." Leave. Be alone. Get his shit together. He shakes his head again. "Sorry. Can we try this again tomorrow? I just...need a break."
Istredd's never seen anyone let themselves get sick in here, which means that this is very deep into Wilhelm's psyche. He is struggling with something so severe mentally that he can convince his body to vomit. That's some deep issues. He is concerned for certain, waving a hand and the vomit simply disappears, because it isn't real here. None of this is real.
"You don't have to be sorry. It's fine, Wilhelm. I'm glad you're willing to keep trying. That's important." Rather than give up, which would help no one. Istredd can't help him in this situation until they work more together and he puts himself in a position where he can provide more guidance.
He nods in the rushed way of someone trying to end a conversation fast. Embarrassment explodes among the volatile cocktail of emotions mixed inside of him. Istredd's sympathy both makes him feel better and worse about all of this. Better, because it means mercy — he won't make him stay and try more magic in spite of his meltdown. Worse, because it probably means he's the most pathetic thing the guy has ever seen in all his years of practicing magecraft. Cool.
"I'll...see you tomorrow," Wilhelm says brusquely, turning to leave. It's after a few steps that he remembers he can just vanish from the Horizon at will, and he does so, unceremoniously.
It would be hard to come back, but he will force himself. Maybe Istredd is right, and strengthening his control over fire in general will someday make it easier to spark his own. And if he's wrong, and the problem is as insurmountable as it feels to Wilhelm right now, then maybe practicing his magic will at least prevent it from exploding out of him unwanted.
He was right about one thing: Wilhelm cannot stay stuck where he is forever.
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no subject
Stregobor would have been vicious. With mage training, going gentle was never an option. Their patience only lasted so long and if you didn't succeed, you had a much worse fate to live through. He pushed and Istredd sometimes pushes too, leading him to remember who he didn't want to be. Lucifer taunted him once, and it hit the mark. You were robbed of a choice, mm? Why should they get one? Because you didn't? It worked in getting under his skin, and it's why he closes the space between them.
"It's alright, Wilhelm. Take a deep breath, in and out." Without thinking about it, he puts a hand on Wilhelm's shoulder, gentle, supportive. Sometimes Stregobor did that too, but it was manipulative, and Istredd is not that. "Look at me." He hopes that Wilhelm will do exactly that, blue eyes apologetic. "I'm sorry, it was my fault. I pushed you too fast." This is a deeper trauma than he thought and a deeper trigger. He shouldn't be pushing when it was this hard to get Wilhelm here.
"We'll get there. It's a process. We're going to do this the opposite way. You tell me when you want to try that again. And until you do, we'll keep doing our fire manipulation training." Because that is what they were doing. Wilhelm was manipulating fire that Istredd himself created, but he was doing it well. They still have a lot to learn there. And by putting the power of choice in Wilhelm's hands about when he feels ready, it makes it less likely he'll get back to this place.
no subject
"I don't get why I can't just do it," he mutters, the words burning in his throat. "I know nothing that bad can happen. It's not like my magic is powerful enough to do that on its own, but —"
He lets go of an unsteady breath, lets his arms swing away from his face. He steps back, eyes leaving Istredd.
"I don't know, I just get so freaked out."
Every time he reaches for that fire burning somewhere inside, he hurtles back to that searing moment fireballs swallowed Libertas and, as he did in the catatonic days that followed, he shuts down. He worries that he'll never be ready. The memory will never heal, but continue to fester. Istredd's offer is kind, but he's just prolonging the inevitable: eventually, he would realize that he has wasted his time on Wilhelm.
no subject
"Because the mind and emotions are very powerful, and if they aren't in perfect concert, they can block people. I've been a mage for over sixty years, and I can still get in my own way." Usually because of emotions. They are definitely the worst, and he is so calm and centered in part to try and keep them from messing him up. But he has them, strongly, under the surface. Istredd is much older than he looks, obviously.
"If you truly think you're responsible for what happened, no one can convince you otherwise. You're holding that in your head and heart. But it also only just happened a few months ago. The trauma hasn't faded from most people." Istredd can only imagine how much trauma still hangs over everyone in Free Cities, having witnessed and experienced it firsthand. The aftermath of that attack effects all of the Summoned, but it's to different levels of tragedy and trauma.
"Give yourself time. Whether it seems obvious to you now or not, the fire manipulation we're working on will help you. The stronger your mind is with magic in general, the better your reaction time will be."
no subject
Whatever answer he's halfway through forming, it scatters as his stomach heaves again. Gagging, he doubles over and tries to hold it down, but it surges up his throat. Splat, right on the stately floor. He spits out the taste of vomit, wipes the heel of his hand across his mouth. Even when he straightens up, his gaze stays on the floor.
"Sorry."
Eyes closed, Wilhelm pushes his hands through his hair, slowly, like the breath he sucks in. He hates losing it where he can be watched.
"I need to..." Leave. Be alone. Get his shit together. He shakes his head again. "Sorry. Can we try this again tomorrow? I just...need a break."
we can wrap here or on yours!
"You don't have to be sorry. It's fine, Wilhelm. I'm glad you're willing to keep trying. That's important." Rather than give up, which would help no one. Istredd can't help him in this situation until they work more together and he puts himself in a position where he can provide more guidance.
His gaze is sympathetic. "Go get some rest."
the end
"I'll...see you tomorrow," Wilhelm says brusquely, turning to leave. It's after a few steps that he remembers he can just vanish from the Horizon at will, and he does so, unceremoniously.
It would be hard to come back, but he will force himself. Maybe Istredd is right, and strengthening his control over fire in general will someday make it easier to spark his own. And if he's wrong, and the problem is as insurmountable as it feels to Wilhelm right now, then maybe practicing his magic will at least prevent it from exploding out of him unwanted.
He was right about one thing: Wilhelm cannot stay stuck where he is forever.