Jerome dreamed. He dreamed of all that he had experienced as he slept; of his time listening to Rihal speak to him in the slums, training him in combat, and lecturing him of the monsters found in Pilgrims’ Keep. He dreamed of the first flame he created, of its significance on his journey as a sacred artist. He dreamed of the first time he wielded metal, earth, and even Sword Force. He dreamed of Blade’s Edge Canyon, of his mistakes and failures, of his friends and siblings, and his hope to one day reunite with them.
He dreamed of his understanding and relationship with Mother Nature; of how words were an important part of his communion with Mother Nature, of how he communicated his sincerity and pledged himself to Mother Nature when Achilles tested him. It was such a weird, vivid dream that felt all too real. He woke up not long after he slept to brood over all he had dreamed about: his comprehension of fire, earth, metal, and sword force. All of them were tied to one entity that birthed them all — Mother Nature.
He brooded over his relationship with Mother Nature. The Sovereign had said Mother Nature is sentient. Does that mean it has intelligence? Does it communicate back as man communicates with it? Maybe ‘it’ wasn’t the right pronoun to be used for Mother Nature. Perhaps ‘she’ was a better one.
The moment Jerome started perceiving Mother Nature in that light as a sentient, intelligent being capable of thought and interaction, he experienced a sort of ‘acceptance’ deep inside him — an embrace so to speak. He began to sense his surroundings more clearly. The tree branches high up in the tree, swaying in the wind and the rustling of their leaves was music to his ears. He felt them more than he heard them.
Jerome looked around as if seeing the forest for the first time. The trees around him exuded tranquil praise for Mother Nature — even in their state of slumber with their leaves drooping; they celebrated their oneness with nature.
The cacophony of insects blended with the music of the trees. He could feel the caterpillars eat away leaf after leaf as they prepared for the next stage in their development, as well as the beating wings of moths in the night sky. Even without extending his senses, the forest was already overwhelmingly vibrant.
Golden threads of essence lit up the dark as he looked on. He followed the movement, watching as these threads of essence moved from the earth into the trees, their branches, and leaves. The two moons in the sky also emitted a strange but calming energy… almost gloomy. He knew this somehow even though he couldn’t see the moons through the canopy of trees high up in the sky.
All of a sudden, the night wasn’t night anymore in his eyes — far from it. It was as bright as day. Colors took on new hues he’d never seen before as everything around him seemed to glow brightly with an innate light of their own.
“Incredible,” he muttered, stupefied.
“It is incredible,” Achilles responded. “You have deepened your connection with Mother Nature, Xerae. Congratulations.”
The realization hit Jerome as he heard it from Achilles. He had deepened his connection with Mother Nature. The act felt so simple yet the result was anything but. It felt like the most wonderful thing he had ever done. He felt at peace. He felt accepted. He felt validated.
“Hmm? Hmm. Tha-thank you, Achilles,” Jerome stuttered absently. There was so much stimulation to his senses that he found it hard to concentrate on words.
He remembered Csala was sleeping nearby and turned to see if he had woken her with his words. But Csala was still fast asleep. Ms. Tara and Sheela too were deep in meditation, they hadn’t heard him.
That was when he noticed his own body… sleeping peacefully by the dying campfire.
What the fuck?!
“Was wondering when you’d notice,” Achilles said. “What you are experiencing is a Spiritual Walkabout with Mother Nature.”
So I’m having an ‘out of body’ experience. Do I need to take a stroll while meditating or something?
“The fact that you don’t know what to do means you should do nothing. When the Fae reigned, some would have these spiritual walks. Ilyrrah did… five times throughout his lifetime. The first was much like yours. On the next one, he experienced something different. A supernatural force ordered his steps to find something or do something.
“Ilyrrah recorded his experiences. I’d show them to you, but you’re not strong enough to view the memory.”
Jerome nodded, focusing back on the beauty of the first around him. Everything was so vivid.
“For the Fae, it was an honor of the highest order to go on a spiritual walk with Mother Nature — secret though, it would have been. The Fae who got the chance were those not of the ilk that waged war against the rest of the world.”
“There’s a lot to unpack there, isn’t there?” Jerome asked, having regained his composure a little.
“Yes, Xerae.”
Jerome nodded absently, trying to process everything his mind was assimilating. Soon he felt his body waking up and he felt like he was seeing the beauty of the world anew. It was a strange feeling. But he was all the more joyous that he could still see like this with his physical eyes.
“This state would not last long, Xerae. This is a golden opportunity for an epiphany so you should take the time to meditate.”
“You’re right. I think I’d do just that.”
He took a moment to center himself, bringing his emotions under control. Closing his eyes, he started to do the breathing exercise Layla taught him when he came back from Blade’s Edge Canyon.
~~~
Down in the depths of Mother Nature’s embrace, it dwells.
High up in the sky,
Across lightyears in space, it rules.
With a spark of energy, the flame comes alive.
With every breath it takes, it may bring warmth…
Or it may consume…
…All!
One who wields the flame must forbear!
For he wields a dangerous power that may scar Mother Nature’s beauty.
Alas!
The flame cares not for your command!
Neither will it obey them,
It does what it will for it knows,
Its power exceeds yours!
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
Heed me oh flame!
Heed my will!
For I am Mother Nature’s emissary!
And you shall obey me!
I will wrought control over my vicious nature,
I will bring to heel,
My hunger and avarice.
I will go through the fires of life.
Like the clump of mud that goes through the flame,
And is remade into gold.
I will be formidable!
~~~
Months of studying the memory stones in the depths of the mountain had given Jerome a deep understanding of the elements. When the sun began to rise, he opened his eyes and took a deep breath of the fresh air of the forest.
His meditation had yielded great results today. He had created a mantra of fire. He didn’t call it a mantra though. It was more than that. It had a depth to it that the earth mantra didn’t have. It also exalted Mother Nature in its verses.
Jerome chose to call it An Ode of The Flame.
He was no poet, but he was extremely glad with his result that he decided to carve it onto a piece of wood since he had no parchment or paper. He found a sturdy piece of wood and with his essence, he carefully and painstakingly Shaped and smoothed it into a fine plaque. He kept the wood inside his void space for later.
Rising from his position, he noticed that Ms. Tara and Sheela were gone. Csala woke up the moment she sensed him move. She looked around for the others and got up to stretch. Jerome drank her in as she stretched. The red material of her robe stretched over her impossibly heavy bust which pointed skywards as she arched her back and stretched her arms upwards. They bounced as she brought her arms back down. Csala was a breath of fresh air. The woman would be the death of any man that claimed her.
“And what are you looking at,” she glared at him.
“Sorry about that.” Jerome smiled at her and proceeded to roll up his bedding.
Csala observed him and did the same. They were done in minutes and Jerome retrieved the binding from the earth. He powered down the runes and the barrier flashed before powering down.
So Achilles. Do you think I’m ready to use it now?
“You may want to enlighten me better, Xerae. I have no idea what you speak of.”
Jerome sighed. I know you can’t help us make the jump to the Northern Hemisphere, Achilles. I can almost sense your weakness. But I’m not blaming you or anything. You can read my mind, and I know that you know what I’m talking about.
“It’s too dangerous, Xerae. It’s not like the Dragon’s Wrath. Honestly, I think I’m feeling a tad bit regretful for teaching you that spell.”
Csala cleared her throat to get his attention. “What happened to The Bleeding Hand?” She gestured upward.
Jerome focused his attention on her. Her face, to be exact. “They used it all up — which is a good thing. It’s a long way to where we’re going. I’ll have to carry you there—”
“Not happening.” She shook her head in defiance.
“That’s the fastest way to get there.”
“We were teleported here from your battle even while you were passed out. You can teleport us there now.”
“The voice of the mountain teleported us,” Jerome said.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Of course you do. What you don’t know is that it assisted in the battle, and used too much power to get us to safety.”
“And whose fault is that?!” Csala raised her voice in frustration.
Jerome calmly eyed her in silence with a raised eyebrow. She shut her mouth and looked away. It felt like she would flee if he tried anything with her. Jerome didn’t mean to scare her, but he wouldn’t take her nagging. And she needed to have that in mind.
“We fly, and that is that. If you don’t like it, you can find your way back to the mountain.” He held out a hand waiting for her to take it.
Csala stood there weighing her odds for a while. But she finally caved and came closer. “If you so much as look at me the wrong way, Jerome, I would—”
“I look at you every time, Csala. Doesn’t mean I don’t have self-control.” He chuckled. “It’s nice that you remember my name, though. I didn’t like you calling me ‘human’ all the time.”
“And I don’t like surprises… which is what you are.” She looked into his eyes with a challenge in hers.
Csala didn’t want to be twirled around his thumb like a mindless slave. She had heard stories, none of which were nice. His obsidian eyes gazed back at her with a steady gaze as he looked curiously at her. She felt he was looking right into her soul and it made her uncomfortable, yet for some reason she couldn’t look away. Her challenging gaze turned to one of curiosity. And then to hesitation. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, telling her to take a step back from this monster. The moment of uncomfortable silence stretched for a long time before he broke it.
“Let’s get some things straight, Csala,” Jerome said and effortlessly raised the earth to make seats for them. He sat in one but Csala refused to take the other. “Guess we’ll remain standing then.” He stood back up. On second thought, he sat back down again. It was better to appear non-threatening in a situation like this.
“Look, I feel I owe you and that’s why I’m taking you up North to help you,” Jerome began. “I understand how you may feel but you don’t need to fear me.”
“What makes you think I fear you?” Csala turned red with anger.
“Calm down, Csala,” Jerome said, calm and collected. “You’re acting all defensive but you’re in no danger with me.”
Csala felt like running away and burying herself under a rock. His stating how she saw their dynamics in such simple words was like he had opened up her heart and looked inside, seeing all the thoughts she kept hidden there. She materialized a dagger in her hand, holding it in front of her as she slowly backed away, ready to kill if need be. Damn the consequences. She wasn’t going to be a slave to a man.
“You don’t know me, Jerome. You say you feel like you owe me but I don’t believe you. You think such sweet words would be enough to manipulate me?”
The realization of her situation and the mentality she had towards it hit Jerome immediately. She had been putting on a strong front for quite some time in hopes of fending him off should he try to take advantage of her.
It was self-preservation.
Jerome made a decision to do something he never thought he’d ever do. “I swear by the earth of Terra Praeta on which I stand that I will never demand anything from Csala, nor take advantage of her. Her volition will be hers, as will her body, to do as she pleases.”
Jerome felt the oath take hold of him tightening inside of him like a weight of immaterial substance. It was a strange sensation. And very uncomfortable. As soon as it came though, it was gone. But he could still feel it. Somewhere deep inside him.
Csala’s jaw dropped as she stared at him with wide eyes. He swore an oath? He really did swear an oath? She had never expected him to take an oath to prove himself. When she made an oath not to reveal any of his secrets to anyone, she really would’ve not told anyone. Oaths weren’t made lightly, not if you had the strength to offset the power of nature. But what strength would a Sprout have over Mother Nature’s Will?
Perhaps he was different after all. Csala wanted to hope. She wanted to believe, but she had been bitten from behind not quite long ago and it hurt. It hurt to be taken advantage of. She knew what her body did to those of the opposite sex; it didn’t matter whether they were human, fae, or incubi. One wouldn’t just swear not to take advantage of her. But he had sworn an oath which he had to keep, else…
“You are a strange human, you know?” she said after a while. “Others would jump at the opportunity to enslave me and make me their plaything.”
“Well, I’m not like others,” he said, smiling at her. The world she had lived in until now was a dog-eat-dog world, one Jerome had some experience with in Farryn. Csala must have had it worse though.
She remained standing, frowning and shifting her weight from foot to foot like a teenager who didn’t know whether to throw a tantrum or not. But he could see the wariness in her eyes slowly melt away.
“Okay,” she said, walking towards him, although still wary. It was difficult to get rid of long-ingrained habits. Even with the oath in place waiting to enact a punishment upon him should he ever break it, she didn’t trust Jerome. If he broke the oath, he was sure to suffer for it. That at least gave her some measure of assurance.
Jerome wrapped his arms around her and asked, “Are we good?” He tried his best not to pay attention to the gigantic, cushiony mammaries pressed against his lower chest as he lifted her in his arms — or the growing tent of his pants.
Csala looked up at him, one eyebrow raised.
“It means ‘are we ok now?’” Jerome said with a dramatic roll of his eyes.
Csala frowned. “We’re not friends. Don’t patronize me.” She thought it must be that he wanted to worm his way into her heart and make her lose her guard against him. Better to set those boundaries now and make them clear.
Jerome sighed. “Very well,” he said and shot into the sky, flying North at great speeds.
He rose in altitude as he flew, gathering essence in the air behind him as he propelled them both forward. A storm soon blanketed the sky and everywhere he passed, the air became supercharged with essence.
When he was over a thousand feet above the ground, he began muttering an incantation under his breath as he flew forward, using the essence he gathered in the air to power the spell. He put on a burst of speed a moment later, breaking the sound barrier. The resulting sonic boom left rings of clouds in the air as he zoomed by. This was another one of those powerful spells he learned from the ancient Fae — Godspeed.