Chapter Eleven: A New Thing to Fear

Valerian learned to swim when he was ten. He remembered those lessons with his grandmother fondly, but the start of them was rough. You would think reading the books and listening to his grandmother's instructions would be enough. It wasn't! It should have been easy.

It wasn't!

All it took was one ill-timed breath that sent water up his nose for everything to go sideways. The sudden confusion where he couldn't remember which way was up, that instinctive panic when he brushed up against Sela's scales underwater in his floundering and the primal part of his brain screamed at him that he was about to be eaten even as she scooped him all coughing and choking out of the water with a twist of her sinuous coils, was something he would never forget.

Valerian could close his eyes now and remember being cradled by the azure scales of the winged serpent's tail. His lungs heaved like forge bellows, frantically drawing in air to preserve the flame nearly quenched by the water around them while his mind worked to calm the panicked trashing of his heart.

Drowning would be a terrible way to die, he realised then.

He still stood by it. It was several weeks before Valerian could swim proficiently, but he never truly shook off that first experience. It wasn't just his sharp memory working against him either. Water, that harmless thing he drank every day, was a very different beast when gathered in large quantities. There was something inexplicably primal about it.

Swimming, he discovered, revolved around two things. Keeping one's head above water while it slapped at you, always mindful of the deceptive currents beneath and moving under the surface while doing your best to ignore whatever lurked in the depths. Whatever the case, there was only one thing to keep in mind: NEVER STOP MOVING!

His grandmother disagreed when he told her this, laughing and telling him to quit overthinking it. Swimming, in her eyes, involved a freedom of movement one couldn't attain outside the waters.

"You need to stop fighting the water, Valerian!" she told him. "Let go of those pesky thoughts and let the water carry you. Struggling only makes it worse. You disturb the flow and turn the water rough around you."

'Easy to say when you're not the one a step from drowning', he thought to himself. She was on the back of a giant leopard whose every sadistic splash sent waves over his head. He was stuck treading water in a stream. If he stopped, the water won. It would pull him under and force its way into his lungs once more.

Today, six years on, he was drowning again.

This time, the waves weren't caused by Gulsalma callously sending water his way. He wasn't struggling to stay afloat in a bubbling stream where the currents threatened to drag him under. No! The waves came from within, buffeting Valerian from every direction while he struggled to keep a clear head and avoid sinking into his animus. Today, that blaring primal part wasn't some prehistoric instinct that warned of danger in the water but a clear and resounding call that shrieked for retribution. Valerian was hurt, and the peng within wanted payback.

His eyes shone with power. His wings extended themselves fully, their cloudy patterns aglow with harsh light as they shifted in ways that hurt to look at. Shrouding him was a near phantasmal force shaped like a great bird of golden authority and unquestionable might, his animus projected on the world. It lasted but a moment, though its presence was felt for many more, lingering about him like a cloak of power.

The wind was riled up before, thanks to their battle in the sky, but now it positively howled with rapturous jubilation. Every squall and breeze suddenly increased in magnitude as it fed on his power. Only, it didn't stop. He fed on it in turn, bolstering his flagging essence reserves with all the wind-attributed energy stirred up by his animus. However, the more his power grew, the more the wind appeared to intensify, and soon, it was beyond his control.

Valerian struggled to hold on, to throttle his power, but it was too late. The horses had already bolted. Fastening the latch did him no good. This much wind was beyond the control of any Lord-tier cultivator, even one with a spiritual legacy.

Wynna had disappeared at this point, no doubt carried away by the worsening storm. He couldn't see anything past ten or so metres, and keeping his eyes open proved a painfully difficult chore when the winds were hurling raindrops at speeds so high they felt like pellets. Valerian struggled to keep aloft, his wings putting in double time. Sensing the danger he was in, his animus quit fighting for control, and together, they screamed at the wind to stop.

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It didn't!

Or rather, his influence was just too weak. The storm had grown beyond him. He would succeed in stilling the air around him, only for it to get whipped up again by the winds outside the bubble of his influence. Valerian sent out numerous tendrils of arcane energy, trying to suborn the storm, only for them to be swept away. Instead, he was buffeted along like a leaf in a breeze.

It was as he hit yet another pocket of tumultuous air that Valerian thought back to his swimming lessons. It had taken months before he understood his grandmother's advice and weeks more before they became his general practice. He relied on them again today. Rather than fight the storm, he tried to go along with it. Instead of working against the storm, he used it to spread his influence, letting the rushing winds carry his arcane energy with them. It worked; his tethers no longer broke. Suddenly, he felt someone latch onto him through the matrix. It was Wynna. Before he could puzzle out what she was trying to do, the storm erupted into flames.

Valerian hung there, stunned as the blaze grew. He had never seen wind burn before, not like this. Wynna's fire practically fed on the winds. The more they rushed in, the quicker the flames grew. Eventually, it was like the whole world was on fire. It was like a vision of hell, all shrieking winds, rushing flames, cloying smoke and massive gouts of steam. Valerian waited and prepared for the inferno to wash over him, but it never came. It went around him, leaving him safe in a bubble while it chased after the runaway storm. Then it doubled in on itself, swirling until it grew into a towering plume of fire that sucked in all the air around it, and then it moved away.

'She's using the matrix to get a bead on my location', he was quick to realise.

Freed momentarily from the squall, he stared, mesmerised, at the conductor of the blaze as she emerged close to him in a gout of flames.

Wynna was like he had never seen her. The petite redhead was like the sun. It was as if her small stature was merely a disguise for the imposing presence that had only now been unshackled. She shone with an ethereal light, her body alight with flames. For the second time that day, Valerian felt like he was staring past the form, through to the true Wynna.

The quiet girl had fallen away and left the queen of flames behind, and she was glorious. Her hat was missing, leaving her hair free to shroud her head in a corona of fire, a crown that set off the glowing red eyes that were even now fixed on the fire tornado in concentration. Valerian had never seen such power. It was captivating. He could see why fire cultivators would throw themselves at her feet in worship.

"DON'T JUST FLOAT THERE!" she yelled at him. "HELP ME CONTROL THIS THING!"

"Right!" he assented. Shaken from his reverie, he tried his trick again. It was much easier this time around, as much of the storm had already been consumed to fuel Wynna's inferno. Working together, they brought the storm to a halt. He calmed the remaining winds, allowing Wynna to slowly quell her flames.

"I could have stopped it, you know!" he told her, yelling across the distance separating them as together, they slowly but surely killed the fiery maelstrom.

His eagle-like vision caught the amusement in her eyes as she turned to respond. "Next time, don't take so long then!"

Clearly, she did not fully believe him, and Valerian had to force himself to swallow his next sentence before he launched into a defensive rant. He wasn't quite sure where the sudden urge to defend himself came from, but he had enough sense to tell that that would only worsen things. So he stood aside as she gathered the remaining flames about her, turning what was left of her inferno into a floating arsenal of fiery destruction. Four dozen orbs of fire, maybe more, arrayed against him, half-minefield, half-artillery post.

"COME ON!" she yelled with a grin. "GIVE IT ANOTHER TRY!"

Something within Valerian lurched at that. Given the results of the last 'try', that was the last thing he wanted to do. Luckily, the decision was taken from his hands.

"No!" came the voice of their teacher. "I think not. You two have caused enough destruction for one day."

She appeared out of nowhere, seemingly strolling through the air till she stood between them like she had been next to them all along. Maybe she had. It was disconcerting, but even more disturbing was the reminder of the destruction they had wrought. At her words, Valerian looked about him.

The area was, for lack of a better term, devastated. For one, there were no longer any trees still standing, no more plants, gardens or grounds to speak of. The manor had somehow been spared but the entire southern half of the estate had been reduced to charred blackened stone and cinders. Worse, he could make out the path of the firestorm from the molten furrow it had dug into the ground.

Bloodworth was talking, likely still scolding them, but Valerian had his eyes and attention elsewhere. The air was crisp and dry from the fire, meaning as high as they were, he could easily make out the faces of the manor's inhabitants peering out and at him. That cut both ways. His heart leapt into his throat as he noticed the rest of the team making their way over to them. There was nowhere to hide, no reason to even try when there was no way they had not already seen his wings.

His secret was out.

As the matrix asserted itself, its connections automatically snapping into place as they drew near, they could feel each other again. He could feel them again, their shock, anger, curiosity and even jealousy bleeding through their shared network. The distance between them continued to shrink, and he found himself meeting Hue's eyes. She looked betrayed.

Just seeing that made him feel like someone was squeezing his heart. The less said about the others, the better. Valerian realised that he would much rather have a thousand more bouts with Wynna than face what was coming.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: