My father ignited The candle again. “Imagine everything you have experienced. The feeling of a soft flower pedal against your fingertips and a metal rod striking you across the back. Imagine the feeling of a sword in your hands and the feeling of a horse's soft mane. The scent of honey on a warm day the smell of herbs, the stench of fresh blood coming from your wounds.
Imagine every experience you have ever had and then let them all go, using them to imagine what fire feels like, the candle wax in the middle of the room, the branches making up the hut. Take it in, and when you are ready, imagine them changing, taking the shape you want them to.
You can freeze the candle over, extinguish it by taking away the air it burns, or douse it in water. It doesn't matter. What matters is that the candle goes out, and then relights.
“I thought you said to empty my mind?”
“Yes, do that too.” he stood up, “Talking about it won't help, you just have to do it, feel the flow of mana through the air. I'll be back later. When I return I expect you to be able to light and extinguish the candle.”
“Just wait a second, I can already do this.” He had turned to leave, but at my word he stopped, turning back and crossing his arms, gesturing toward the candle with one hand.
I let out a sigh and turned my gaze back to the candle. ‘Magic is just your will turned to reality. The more you understand what you're changing and how the easier it is to manipulate. Fire for instance burns oxygen in the air, not the air itself.
So I should be able just to exert my will to take the oxygen away from the fire, suffocating it. The result would be the fire going out, and the wick cooling, solidifying the wax that has been melting… Ok.’
I envisioned it in my mind, keeping my senses open, but the candle remained lit as I began to make it flicker, but not extinguish. ‘I see, manipulating the manna around me is far harder than controlling the manna inside me. If that's the case I should just shoot water from my palm.’
I looked over at my father. ‘No, I want to do it the same way he did.’
His words echoed in my mind. ‘Think of your past experiences… So, lack of air.’ The first thing that came to mind was when I was drowning in the sludge the first time I met the demon.
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‘Take that feeling, and project it into reality.’ It was a Harrowing idea. Regardless I had to try. Still, nothing happened.
“I thought you said you could do it, if you're just going to waste my time then I’m leaving.”
“N-No! I really can I promise.”
I flashed backward through my memories rapidly as if forcing my life to flash before my eyes. I could still remember everything clear as day, but the feeling of the cold biting against my skin, and the feeling of being struck leaped to the forefront of my mind.
Maybe because of what had happened so recently, or maybe because I hated it so much, but unlike the other feelings, those stuck with me. Even as I continued to analyze my other memories those feelings lingered. ‘Everything’s so cold…’
I could feel an outward release of energy. It was just like before. I could see the entire room from the third person. Time froze and I could see the weaving energy all around me flooding the room. I then focused on the candle.
I imagined it growing cold, and the candle flickering out. With that single thought, it froze solid, the air crystallizing to ice around the wax.
It didn’t just stop there. I felt the energy continuing to flow around me, through me, and my emotions and memories continued on. I was alone, stranded on a frozen plane, the wind howling, turning my ears red with pain as my fingers and my toes went numb. It felt so real. The snow melting against my skin, only to turn back to ice, it was like I was manifesting my emotion, rather than my will.
From the times I trained nearly naked in the snow, to the times I ran through the rain, the times I slept in the frigid open air, and the times I bathed in the spring that was colder than ice. With each memory, more and more ice started to spike out from around the candle.
I began to catch up to the present. The memory of being so cold I didn’t even react to the Giant bitterweed, giving up on life altogether… It took hold of me, my mind lingering for a moment as the air around me chilled and a dry ice fog began emitting from my body and breath.
Then, the memory of the perpetual cold I felt when my manna gate was shattered, every moment feeling colder until I became numb to it. My mind couldn’t leave them behind, the memories compounded, lingering as my mind continued to wander.
Ice crystals took shape in latices and spears, growing faster and larger, some of them starting to glow an iridescent blue, others turning pure white as the cracking grew louder.
Finally, with the feeling of cold came my emotions, leaving me behind. The feelings I had when Marra beat me until I wasn’t sure if I could stand, when I found out it was my father who poisoned me, or when I was forced to continue shooting my bow after it had torn through my arm and fingers.
Each time the emotions themselves made my blood run cold with a mix of fear and sorrow.
In an instant, the ice that was gathering around the candle, and then for a moment everything fell silent…
The ice exploded outward in a terrifying display. Jagged spikes enveloped the entire area, bursting out through the canopy, piercing through the enchanted wood, and running in every direction.
I jumped back, covering my head as the spikes rushed even towards me, skewering the air around me and going so far as to pierce my good arm, narrowly drawing blood.
My heart raced but I knew it was already over. ‘This was me…? I… did this? I froze in place like the ice around me, too chilled to move.
“Good, now light it again.”
I didn’t even respond. How could I, when his words only made the ice grow even more, penetrating deeper into my arm and pinning me against the wall, locking me firmly into place?