Crane looked at man laying in front of him. Burnt and half dead. He ripped the man’s heart out of his chest and watched the heart beating in his hand.
***
It looked like a sunny day. No clouds covered the blue sky and gentle winds brought small waves to shore, to Crane. He sat there on the edge of a big rock, dipping his feet in the sea as he ate the sandwich he made. The scenery was so still that it looked like a painting, an illusion. He sat there enjoying the view, knowing that it all was a mirage.
He closed his eyes and focused, deeply breathing in and out. The Rukh felt calm. The calmest it had been for the month. Nature was content. Today is the day he thought. Today he would run. He would escape his prison.
As he bathed in sun with the company of seagulls singing, he felt a warmth on his shoulder. It kept getting hotter and hotter until it was as painful as a hot cinder on his skin.
“Ouch!” He gasped as he waved his hand fanning around his shoulder. “What do you want?” He asked the emptiness.
“Your sandwich looks delicious.” A voice answered. It was young and full of life. “Would you mind sharing some?”
Crane wasn’t that hungry but letting his food to go waste was not something he wished to do, especially today. He was sure that he was going to need the energy.
“You know you don’t need to eat, right?” He asked the spirit even though he knew the answer.
“Yes.” Azavel agreed. He was a spirit, a power of nature. The Rukh, soul of the earth was enough sustenance. “But it looks delicious.”
Azavel was young. He was twice the age of Crane but that for a spirit that only meant that he was nothing more than a toddler. It would take decades or even centuries for one of his kind to just mature. Because of his youth, Crane couldn’t see him. Azavel simply didn’t have enough strength to materialize. Nevertheless, even without seeing him, Crane was sure that the poor thing was drooling.
“Please?” Azavel asked again and Crane gave in to the childish wish. How could he refuse him? He was like a little brother. At least he thought so. The concept of kinship he knew, but experiencing it was never an option for him.
He split the sandwich into two uneven halves, throwing the smaller side to a nearby rock. Soon, smoke started to rise into the air from the bread and it all vanished into ashes in seconds.
Crane sighed as the pile of ash scattered through the wind. What a waste. He thought. Now he had to deal the trouble with a half-empty stomach.
Now full and content, Azavel jumped to Crane’s shoulder again. It was warm, but this time more comforting.
“He’s coming!” Azavel started to shout in excitement. “Yes! He’s coming. I can feel it.” There was nothing to see yet, but Azavel’s senses detected something else. He felt the power emanating from the man that was coming. It made sense. After all, he was made of power. It wouldn’t be weird for him to sense Rukh much better than a mortal like him.
“I don’t really understand why you like him that much. You never get this excited when you see me.” He looked at the rock where the pile of ash once stood before getting swept by the wind. “Not even when I feed you.”
“You don’t see him. He’s gorgeous. He is the most beautiful human I have ever seen!”
“Ouch.” Crane let out a gasp with no hint of emotion. “That hurt. Considering I am the only human you’ve ever seen other than him.”
“Yeah, you’re not that shabby either.” Azavel comforted him, spinning around his head. “But he shines!”
“All right.” Crane accepted being less gorgeous than an old one-armed pile of bones. “Whatever.” It didn’t matter what Azavel thought, Crane would surely win today.
As he tried to take another bite out of what’s left of his sandwich, something small but fast hit his head from behind, making him flinch in pain and drop the sandwich to the sea.
“Vidin’s balls, Anem!” In anger, he turned back at the old man. “Why did you do that!”
“I felt insulted for some reason. You were probably being disrespectful.” He answered as he threw another rock at him but this time, he caught it in the air with his mind. He continued as he kept floating the stone.
“Then what was the second fucking stone for!” He threw the stone back at the old man with a motion of his hand.
“Because you were rude!” Anem grumbled as he caught the rock with his bare hands like it was nothing even though Crane enhanced its speed and weight. Anem held the stone in his hand for a while as he washed it with his mana, injecting a touch of it into the stone right before throwing it back.
Crane tried to hold it again with his mind, wrapping his mana around the stone like an invisible hand once again but this time the stone burnt his mana. Making the stone directly land into his head and throw him into the water, right beside his floating sandwich.
“Why the fuck did you throw the third then!” He shouted as he climbed the rock back but as soon as he reached the top, he saw Anem holding another stone.
“By Three Sisters! If you throw another rock at me, I’ll piss all the dried meat you hide in your room. As well as all your diaries in the drawer under your desk!”
Anem itched to throw the rock but hesitated to do so. He wasn’t sure whether Crane would go that far to take revenge, but after a second, he figured it was too much of a risk. The boy could be very dirty if cornered too much. Losing the meat, he could risk; there were plenty of animals on the island. Diaries on the other hand would be impossible to retrieve.
Cunning rat Anem thought. To think that he would break into his room without him noticing. Good thing he had enchanted everything readable in the room. Crane would never be able to read them even if he tried a hundred years. Still, it was dangerous to leave them as they are. He would continue bullyi… educating him after changing the diaries’ whereabouts.
“You could have used your hands to catch the stone. Don’t work magic when it’s not completely necessary. The last one was to teach you that. And to make you remember should you try something that stupid again.”
“Yeah, sure he shines!” He complained as he stood still, with his hands on his hips and drenched from head to toe. Shines my ass.
He was going to cast a spell to dry his clothes, but he hesitated. Anem would probably send another stone flying at him if he saw him use magic for unnecessary things. So, he turned at Azavel, or more like in the general direction where he sensed the heat. Soon, steam started to rise from his clothes and in a few seconds, he was dry again. As he was Crane’s contracted spirit, they were connected by heart; Azavel could somehow guess what Crane thought or wished. I guess he doesn’t owe me a sandwich anymore Crane thought.
Today, the old man had worn his white robe again. I knew it. Crane thought. He only wears it for the Willow.
At every new moon, Anem would go to the swampy side of the island with his ceremonious clothes and do something there. Crane always guessed that he was praying somehow and after every time he would be exhausted. Crane didn’t know why but would be out of mana each time, unable to use any substantial magic for a while. It was too good of a chance to pass.
“You were late.” Anem said but his voice was like rather asking the reason than stating the situation. He stood there in his robes as white as his hair, a fist shorter than Crane but more intimidating than a bear. His amber eyes glowed in a certain way that reminded Crane of a fireball.
“I guess.”
“Why?”
“I was hungry.” Crane shrugged as he lied. Yes, he was hungry but that was not the reason behind his choice of place. “And thanks to you two, I’m still hungry.”
“You can still train. Hunger is not an excuse for laziness.” He turned back and started to walk towards the prairie, expecting Crane to follow.
“I don’t think so.” Crane grinned, staying still where he was.
“Neither it is an excuse for stupidity.” With his sole arm behind, Anem turned back to Crane.
“All right then. But we have a problem. Who is going to teach me? I don’t see anyone qualified enough.”
“Are you challenging me, son?” Anem asked, smiling. His smile was more terrifying than a thousand howling wolves. “You still have a lot to learn. First, we have to deal with your attitude and…”
“Yes, it is.” A wide smile appeared on his face. “I challenge you.”
“I can still wipe the floor with your ass with a hand-tied. You know that right?”
“Oh?” Crane showed a belittling smirk. “You’re afraid to accept it?”
“I’m just trying to make sure that you know what’s going to happen if I do.”
“I know. You said if I ever wanted to leave, I would have to show I am competent enough. Did you forget it? You have gone a bit senile I guess.”
“You are not ready yet.” Anem replied. “I refuse your challenge. You still have to cook dinner. You won’t be able to after the duel.”
“I’ll win.” Crane laughed as he pulled a string of his hair from his scalp and burned it. Mage fire quickly swallowed the hair, making it disappear into thin air as Crane drew a half-circle around Anem, creeping inland before the battle started. “I, the prentice of the Master Anem, challenge you to a duel.” He bowed briefly.
Crane had read about the ritual in a book he found in the temple’s library. It was a traveler’s diary, and a particular part was telling how he witnessed a mage duel another, or a Kavna as they named it. The traveler had noted that for mages of the Empire it was more humiliating than death to refuse a call to Kavna. There was no way Anem would refuse it, he was from the Empire.
“I refuse.” With tired eyes, Anem ignored the little parade he had just presented.
“Wait, what?” Crane asked surprised. “Aren’t you supposed the honor the Kavna? The ritual? You know, burning the hair and whatnot.”
“If we ignored the fact that the mage who just challenged me was a little brat, I still would need to be caring for all of that honor and reputation bullshit. Honor can only work the field or tend the animals as much as a little boy with limbs charred as charcoal.”
Crane was fazed a little bit; he had thought that the ritual would be enough to make him agree.
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“So… You are afraid?” Crane tried to get on his nerves, sure that Anem was not afraid a bit. “For what? Just because you are a little tired?”
Anem sighed as he raised his brows and only hand, like surrendering in fear. “Look at me! I am so afraid that I cannot stop shaking.” He looked at Crane with a monotonous voice. “This rock here is more dangerous than you boy.” He continued in a condescending tone. “I could trip over it and injure my back. My back is not the same as it used to be after your incident with that boar.”
“Come on! Boars aren’t that heavy.”
“They are. Especially when you are over sixty. And when you have to carry a boy as well.”
“Yeah, if only you stepped in before I collapsed then you wouldn’t have to carry me as well!” Crane yelled at his master. He had broken a few ribs and an arm after fighting that boar and was not going to let Anem whine for a backpain.
“Hmm… So, you are afraid of a little piglet, yet you still challenge me? Kids these days are sure stupid.”
“Piglet! I was only twelve and the boar was almost four times my size.”
“Black boars mature quite fast you know; he was a year old at most.”
“It was four meters high! Oh, and you know what? He was breathing fire!”
“That’s the point! I can breathe fire as well. I would be an awfully bad match for you.”
“All right” Crane crossed his arms on his chest, refusing to accept defeat. “You are afraid I get that. What about a bet to bolster your courage? If I win, you’ll fulfill your promise and let me leave this damned place.”
“If.” He laughed. “What about when I win? What will you give?”
“I’ll never propose another challenge?”
“If you think that is going to be enough to convince me you are even more of an idiot than I have ever thought.”
“Okay… Let me think.” He scratched his chin looking up with one brow raised. “I’ll go to the Old Willow instead of you for a year. Aren’t you tired of whatever you are doing there every month?”
Anem let out a laughter so loud that the birds on nearby trees flew away in flocks. “Who says you can get out alive from there? There is a reason why I never asked you to go there instead of me.”
“Come on! I only want to give hand.” Crane glanced at his hand, winking repeatedly with a smirk. Another pebble flying at his head wiped the smirk off his face.
“Ouch!” He let a little moan. “What you do there anyway?” He continued as he rubbed his forehead where the pebble landed.
“I work.”
“Ah…” Crane sighed. “You are really talkative aren’t you. Spending a lifetime on an island makes you extremely friendly.”
“You could say that.” Anem chuckled. “You should have seen me before.”
“Okay.” Crane decided to change his approach. Annoying the old man into submission was a double-edged sword. He got annoyed as well. “I am going to be really honest with you. If you don’t accept the challenge, I am going to continue pestering you for days. Do you remember the week that I found the library and tried to get permission from you? I was a lot younger back then. I can be a lot more persistent and imaginative.”
“Who are you kidding? You never lacked the imagination nor persistence.”
“Well, you might be right about that, but I can back those two with a lot more firepower now.”
Anem stood there, silently watching. “Swamp is poisonous you know. Take one breath and not even fire can heal you.”
“I’d prefer dying in that swamp than live another day here. You can’t expect me to stare at the sea and never wonder what’s on the other…” Crane realized. “Wait. Does that mean you accept it?”
“Ahh…” Anem sighed. “What are waiting for?” He said as he straightened his back as much as he could with the small hump he had and accepted the weirdest proposal of challenge in his eighty-odd years of life. “An invitation?”
Crane answered with a fireball. He threw it right into Anem’s face, sure that it wouldn’t even leave a scratch on him. He then immediately jumped forth, casting a speed enchantment spell right after the fireball to punch Anem, but it failed. The moment the fireball got closer to Anem it stopped and vanished into thin air with a flash. The punch that was thrown after was also stopped mid-air, but what stopped it was the scrawny hand of an old man.
“Distract the enemy with a flashy spell and immediately charge at him after enhancing your speed. Right idea. Poor execution.”
Crane yanked his hand from the old man’s grasp. It wasn’t that hard but not because he was physically stronger but for Anem let him do so. He was testing him, still refusing to believe he wasn’t up to whatever standards he had. Though it hurt his pride a little, it wasn’t the time to be crying about it. It was better for Crane to be underestimated than to fight that old monster face to face with his full might.
He cast a shield spell and a blue shining sphere appeared around him. Keeping his distance, he walked back to the forest keeping the old man in sight. He was watching him with one hand behind.
“Move your enemy to a favorable position, or even to a trap if you can’t overpower him by orthodox methods. Nice idea. Seems like my lessons didn’t go through your empty head. At least some of them.” Anem followed Crane inland. “I could have even applauded if you managed to hide the traps in the forest and the rune circle there properly.” He showed a place in the ground in between Crane and him.
He continued to walk forward as Crane backed step by step, slowly entering the woods. With a smug face, Anem stepped on the circle hidden beneath the ground and thin whips of lightning crackled around him. The power was enough to put a bear to sleep but of course, it didn’t work properly on the old man. The sparks didn’t even manage to touch him, they bounced off the layer of white mana he wrapped around his body.
“A spell to stun the enemy, again; nice idea and poor execution.” He tapped the ground with his feet and the circles are hidden a few centimeters beneath the dirt were shining with bright white light. “Also, you have some unnecessary scribblings all over the place.” He continued as he inspected the runes. “You could have made the circle work the same; for Crowned, maybe even more efficient if you erased half the...”
“Layers?” Crane snapped his finger and a few layers of the circle vanished into thin air, making all the unnecessary runes go away. The only thing that was left on the circle were inscriptions for a mana battery. The good thing was, the mana he injected into the circle was all gone as trap activated, and the circle tried to fill its reserves with what was standing on it, or more accurately who was pouring whatever was left of his mana in it to make it shine.
“You clever bastard.” Anem cursed at him as he collapsed onto his knees and put his only hand into the ground.
Crane laughed and feeling safe as he disarmed his shield, letting the mana diffuse into the air. “I knew you wouldn’t notice it.” He didn’t know it. He more like counted on Anem’s hubris and need to show off. “Your power blinds your eyes.”
“It’s not blindness, boy.” Anem scratched the ground, and the circle was broken. “It’s experience. You can never count on a single set of circles.” As he got up.
“Shit!” Crane cursed as he turned back and started to run. Anem might have won this round, but the duel was still going on. At least that was what Crane thought as he disappeared into the woods.
Anem on the other hand was too tired to run after him, so he let Crane go. The circle on the ground, however; was much more interesting and didn’t force him to run after a nineteen-year-old boy. So, he sat down and inspected the marks of the empty runes carved into the surface of the ground.
It originally had five circles of scripture. The first one was to hide all the circles, it suppressed the aura emitted from the mana residing in the circle but it was built highly ineffective to fake incompetence. The second one was to stun him. The third one was the battery Crane poured all the mana beforehand and the fourth one was the trigger. At the innermost circle was a sort of siphon spell. It sucked all the power around it to refill the battery and it was even scarier than the stun spell. If he hadn’t broken the circle at a time, he would be stripped off of all his mana and lose his consciousness until someone pulled him away from the circle and let him recover.
“Cunning cunt.” Anem observed the spell. “He knows me too well.” There was a lot of thought put into it. I shouldn’t have let him walk around that library he thought. Not only that he was able to draw a five-layered rune circle, but also the innermost layer was made of runes of Rae’in. It was hard to detect it, especially on the island as they were everywhere and also one with nature. He’s going to cause a lot of trouble.
Half an hour later, Crane was sitting still in the forest, hiding.
He was focused on his mana, keeping it all inside his body and not letting any go away. Anem was great at sensing mana, he had to hide not only from his sight but also from his senses.
“Can you feel it?” Crane whispered at Azavel. He didn’t know whether he was around as pulling all your mana in not only hid you but also hid everything else from you. Sensing a small spirit was not a possibility but Crane was damn sure that Azavel would follow him. He was very fond of his “small” quarrels with Anem.
“Yes.” He heard a small whisper accompanied by a warmth around his left ear.
“Is he close?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“There.”
“I can’t see you.” Crane continued as he tried to suppress the urge to scream at Azavel. “A sign would be very good.”
“Oh, right.” Azavel gasped. “I forget that fairly often.” He picked a few twigs and ordered them into an arrow pointing at Crane’s right.
“That’s enough,” Crane ordered Azavel. “If you continue touching that twig, you’re going to lit a fire.”
“And?” Azavel asked like the pyromaniac kid he was.
“He is a Flamebearer. It would be like lighting a beacon.”
“And?” Azavel kept ignoring Crane. It was really hard to stop Azavel from setting something ablaze once he started doing it.”
“Fine!” He raised his voice, still trying to whisper.
“Take it that way and put it on the stone right next to that tree and do whatever you want.”
“Thanks.” Azavel cheered like a little kid and the smoking twig started to float where Crane showed Azavel.
Soon, a small fire started on the rock but before it had a chance to grow bigger, Anem stepped on it to smother it.
“Fuck…”
The moment he stepped on the rock, something beneath it broke free and a rope beneath, hidden amongst the tree leaves on the ground gripped his leg yanked him into the air, leaving him hanging on the tree upside down.
“You were right about the rock. They can be quite dangerous” Crane approached him with a shield around and a smirk beneath, but Anem was too busy cursing to be offended by Crane’s little remark.
“There is a kid here for fuck’s sake. Mind your language.” Anem often profaned but this time… it was on another level.
“Fuck the kid!” Anem screamed as he burnt a section of the rope to cut it and collapsed to the ground. “That little warm piece of shit tricked me.”
Anem shook his now not-so-white robe off and took a pulled on a thin branch on the tree with the mind. Soon it snapped broke and fell onto his hands.
Now that he had a stick, it was time to negotiate.
“I am so sorry!” He screamed as he backed, guarding his face with his hands. “Why is the stick burning?” He asked but no answer came.
“Anem?”
“Hey. Anem? Aren’t you taking it too far? I am sure we can settle this in a civilized manner.” Crane continued begging but Anem didn't seem like he was going to stop.
Still crawling back on his butt, he tried to get up, but his hand sank into the muddy ground, setting his balance off. He let a curse out at first but then he realized what a great blessing it was. Half a meter behind there was a small stream a foot or so wide.
He got up, pulled a ball of water roughly the size of his head from the stream, and sent it flying towards the old man. Anem was a Flamebearer, he wielded fire like part of his body, fire was his essence. He could materialize the fire attribute in his soul to reality. Crane could do it as well to some degree thanks to his contract with Azavel but not with water, not with the most useful element against a Flamebearer. He had no aptitude for it.
So, he simply closed his eyes for a second, focusing on the water. He motioned his hand upwards, like taking a ball from the ground. His mana grabbed the water for him, shaped it into a ball roughly the size of his head, and pulled it into the air. He spun in, stirring the water from the inside, and sent it flying to Anem’s head.
The old man dodged the water ball, as he could not dispel it like he had done previously to Crane’s fireball. The fireball was mana turned into an element; it could be turned back into mana. The water ball, however, was made of real water. The moment Anem tried to dispel it, he would only make the mana wrapping around and stirring the water to dissipate; letting the spinning ball of death hit him with its full might and mighty it was indeed. The black boars he hunted for revenge knew that very well.
Though it didn’t touch Anem, the water ball broke his momentum. In this moment of opportunity Crane got up conjuring three more water balls, but this time he focused on the heat of the water. Mana grasped the water tightly and Crane siphoned all the heat they had into the air. Upon losing all their heat, they all turned into ice. He then threw the ice balls one after another, but Anem dodged them all with the agility that was not expected from someone around his age.
As Anem got closer, he pulled four more water balls from the current, but this time he neither stirred them turned them into ice. He turned the mana he siphoned from his familiar Azavel into mage fire, summoning them into three of his water balls.
Water boiled inside the mana bubble in a second and Crane threw the balls at Anem as he jumped back. They exploded in between them, boiling mist spreading in the air like wildfire. Mist covered him, yet Crane knew Anem could still sense him. It was time to end the fight for good.
He soaked the heat of his last water ball, turning it into ice, and summoned three more fireballs. Two normal-sized, and one as small as candlelight. It wasn’t as hot or big as the others, but Crane knew well, it was the one to bring Anem down.
Crane hollowed iceball’s center as he saw the silhouette of Anem slowly approaching and pushed the small but bright flame in that hollow.
Anem stood where he was and firmed his stance seeing three beams of light. Upon seeing the light of the first fireball approaching him, he raised his hand and slapped the first fireball out of existence, fire dissipating into the air upon touching Anem’s skin. He held the second fireball in the air, immediately sending it back to Crane.
Crane dodged the fireball, rolling on the ground and just as he got up, he sent the iceball amidst the fog, just like his fireballs before. Seeing the light getting closer Anem prepared himself to slap another fireball, but the mist had done its work. The moment Anem understood what was emanating the light it was too late. Iceball hit the back of his hand, catching him off guard and sending him flying to the ground. The sound of ice and bones crashing into each other filled the forest accompanied by Anem’s curses.
“You should have aimed at the head.” Anem howled as a green light appeared inside the mist. The sound of a foot knocking on the ground shook Crane, and the mist burst into flames right before it disappeared. Anem had burnt it.
Now the curtain of mist was gone, Crane saw the extend of his iceball’s damage. Anem’s fingers on his sole hand were bent in weird angles but the green flames he held slowly straightened them, clothing the bones with flesh, and fixing the hand to a new.
With now completely healed hand, Anem snapped his finger and a ring of fire surrounded both like a cage. Now, he had nowhere to run.