Toni Forester.
***
“Welcome to the practice fields.”
As in his usual fashion, Amun emphatically spread his arms across this vast empty grassland. Here, on the shores of the tower, it was just him and us. Plus our clones and… undead.
Though we were somewhat scattered far and wide, his voice carried through the mouths of our clones. Invoking in his slow drawl, the grandeur of a grand hall opening its doors on the night of its debut. As if in cheer, the weeds and grasses and the air itself rippled and waved before pacing feet; refusing to die down as his words flowed through the clones of darkness.
“As stated before, the next block of instruction will be for magic and manipulation practice. One hour for each if you possess a magical affinity. Those already up to my standards in manipulation will teach the rest.”
With a final nod, he turned to square up with his Doppelganger and blew him away with a burst of wind that belied his magical attributes. Thereby releasing us to teach and train.
But… “Who should I train?”
Not including myself, five other people wanted to become Rangers. Five people I’d train with and get to know later, one of whom was Jaimess. Amun’s vassal. One of his vassals, at least. I couldn’t wait to work with him. To get to know him. But more importantly, I couldn’t wait to see what our Ranger training would be like. Nor could I fantasize about it, though. Instead, my attention was pulled to my shadow, congealing into a hauntingly dark soup before the crown of a head- my head- appeared at my feet.
Smiling wide all the while, my Doppelganger rose, turned, and pointed through the fray. Turning my attention to a boy who looked more like a kid than he already was. He was short and frail. With black hair tied loosely into a ponytail and a boyishly contoured face concealed over the mouth and nose by a piece of black cloth. He wore tan baggy pants with a long-sleeved black shirt, stitched throughout with the greens and browns of the Bodhi Tree. What was weird was that he walked with his head low while his eyes darted around the crowd. Almost like he didn’t want to be seen.
“That's Rommy Peak.” My clone said in a way that was unlike my voice. It was more like Amun’s. “Like you, he has Snow Magic. He, however, was born with the affinity.”
I nodded in affirmation with that. Not because my suspicions had been confirmed, far from it. But because I saw his clone whispering a similar message in his ear.
“So much for introductions.” I chuckled weakly as I approached, saying the first thing that came to mind. “Why do you hide your face?”
“A man coughed on me once and I got sick.” He absentmindedly replied. “I hate being unclean. Learning about those germ things only made it worse. They creep me out.”
“Well that's a bit ridiculous,” I muttered.
“What?” He turned back to me, seething. Then turned away in the next breath, sighing deeply. “Whatever.”
“I’m sure your clone has already told you, but I’m Toni. We both have an affinity for snow. So… I guess we’ll be working together in an hour?”
“Then talk to me in an hour.” He spat through his mask, then curtly turned away.
“Ugh, how rude!” I recoiled, stammered, and muttered. “I mean, you’re right, but-”
Twin torches roared to life as my words were cut short, acting as the hands of a giant to lift me into the air, capturing Rommy’s attention whole. “Amun wants everyone to be able to fly with manipulation.” I looked down at his wide eyes with a big smirk. “Fire is the easiest way. But it's hard for those like us at first.”
Like others in my party, I watched my student struggle, initially. He tried and tried with fire, at first. Managing only a wild flame that seared his sleeves up to the elbows. With words from his Doppelganger, he switched to a pillar of stone to launch him into the air, and a gust of wind aimed to lift him from below.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Ten minutes led to twenty minutes of failure, and then I felt bad. I tried to offer hints, but he only took words of encouragement from himself but not in his voice. Always in riddles that left one thinking, rather than experimenting like we were tasked with.
Like everyone else- like me, Rommy was no different. He listened to his clone and squinted and darted his eyes around while he pondered and contemplated the nature of the elements. Individually and combined.
He succeeded with the torch and managed to suspend himself just above the ground by the end of the hour. Daunting though it seemed for those like us- and still troublesome if not properly controlled- it was a process of producing a flame and intensifying it with air. Something that we of the Snow had an innate mastery of. Rommy more so than me. Not only that, but his drive was far greater than mine. I was a Forester. Both in name and Class. Something that had been a certainty since the day I was born. Something I had no part in deciding. Until now at least.
Was it the same for him, I wondered. And then wondered the same for the many others who swore their lives to Amun. Was it to rebel and decide how to live their lives for themselves like me and possibly Rebecca and Scarlett did; I needed to know.
If I remembered correctly, he was the same as the other soon-to-be druid, Mary Farmer. An Epethian commoner. But I had no idea what that even meant. I had no idea what class he wanted to become or why. I needed to know. But if I learned anything from our earlier exchange, it was that he took our training seriously. So, if I wanted to know, I had to meet his severity in turn.
Surprisingly, he approached me before I could act. He was before me in just a few strides, disconcertingly soundless strides, I add. Eerily so, until my eyes were drawn to a booklet that appeared in his hand from seemingly nowhere. “I assume you have one of these?”
Bound in fur and fastened shut with a belt, it was both similar and dissimilar to mine. Wherein his was of white and gray with a blue emblem, mine was brown and blue with a white emblem. Both were the same thickness and were centered by a large snowflake. Ours and no doubt everyone else’s explained the complex sequence that went into the formation of our affinities in nature; in my and his case, Mud and Snow, and Snow and Gust. With the scientific knowledge then imparted to us, our tomes moved on to give a few ideas for new spells. Which we were eager to try.
“Snowflake.” He said with power in his voice. And the air responded by taking on a blue-white hue and condensing- freezing into a six-sided crystal in the palm of his hand. “It’s like a throwing star.” He airily gasped, then flung it away with such speed that I almost missed the action. My head was in mid-tilt when I turned to face his clone, clutching his stomach as he fell to the ground.
I turned back to him and noticed the impression beneath his mask. Smiling. Though not with malice. With awe.
“There’s a spell I’ve been working on.” I stepped in front of his rising clone, bringing his cold blue eyes to me. “To sharpen the individual flakes and send them out in a blizzard. I can do the last part, but my snow doesn’t always cut. I assume it should be easier for you. Being born with Snow.
“I also have Gust Magic,” he said. Though I can tell it was no boast. Simply a fact. It was blunt and effortless. Much like his act of turning and releasing a sum of mana that was comparable to mine in potency.
The mana poured into a vortex of thickening snow. Surrounding Rommy in a veil of white until the stream of energy flowing from within him petered out. The blizzard ebbed and lurched with a wave of his hand. Sending a cone of frost showering over his Doppelganger and the dead man of shadows standing behind him.
They both were lacerated. Eviscerated, in the case of the dead man. How weak they were, despite how terrifying they seemed. Though, being weak mattered little when you could keep returning to your feet after dying.
“They will grow stronger.” I- my Doppelganger said. “They must kill to evolve. Unlike us, their potential is limitless.”
“Your spell is only the first part of the equation,” Rommy- his Doppelganger said, stepping between us all to bring our eyes to his extended finger. "Fuse your magics together."
“Like this.” My clone cheekily said, mimicking the action with raised brows until we complied.
As Rommy did and was doing now, I created a small blizzard that blew outward from my finger. Just as potent as Rommy’s, but with less effort to maintain the size. Even then, I could tell his was just… better.
But our clones cared not.
“Fuse your mana.”
“All of it.”
We looked first at our clones, and then at each other before doing what was asked. I released more mana from my Well and sought to compress the blizzard into a pillar.
But then came a scream in my voice. “Focus your mana into the smallest point imaginable!”
Then a scream in his. “Sharpen your mana into a blade.”
Again, we did as we were told. Rommy to a degree that was far greater than mine. Within moments he flattened the gelid storm emanating from his finger and, without being prompted, stomped forward with a downward swing.
My body spurred into action on its own volition. Leaping back to release my spell with a rising flick of the wrist.
My Permafrost Javelin traced behind the white razor-thin line of Rommy’s spell, hardly perceptible though it was. It carved into first his clone and then mine in a blinding flash of white. Severing the two of them and more as the spells faded into the distance to peter out, leaving a fifty-meter wake of permafrost and gelid winds lying in their wake.
"Wow!"
“Holy shit!” We both gasped, then turned our wide eyes to each other.
“Now.” Our Doppelgangers grinned in unison. “Perfect the technique. Make it your own. And then name your spell.”