Liam rises from a deep sleep, he felt better than he thought he would, given the poor-quality bed and meal. It was much brighter, well anything is brighter than darkness Liam thought to himself. A fresh torch burned merrily across from his cell, peering up the hallway Liam could see several more burning.
Unsure of how much time had passed and trying to ignore his rumbling stomach, the prisoner got back into his meditative pose. Trying to focus on the feeling of openness he once again pictured the bucket, it was now almost empty, less than a quarter full, upon closer inspection it had several minor cracks which leaked water.
Liam tried again, picturing a sturdy metal bucket he willed it to rain, he could almost hear the pitter patter the drops made as they filled the bucket. However, he soon grew disappointed as the bucket refused to fill up, once there was a thin layer of water on the inside the rain seemed to go everywhere but the bucket. He felt like he was missing something.
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A few days passed with Liam trying various exercises, he was beginning to grow truly desperate as his day of execution crawled closer. A guard came by twice per day to change the torches, empty his bucket and feed him, one of them commented on the cheap quality of torches which never seemed to last between meals.
Any attempt to engage his captors in conversation is met with either silence or curt replies. Liam even tried to avoid the food until he got some answers about when his trial was. This got him a nasty bruise on his forehead and the knowledge that he was going to be executed without a trial. The king’s law said that every citizen is entitled to a fair trial however the reality is very different. “I guess that doesn’t apply to us forgotten freaks” he thinks to himself grimly.
At this point Liam felt like he had tried everything, all the methods his father taught him. All ended in failure as it always did, forests he tried planning in his head would wither and die. Mountains would quickly fall apart, lakes would dry up in minutes. The most success he had was with fire, but that too went out after some time.
By Liam’s count he had one day left to live. Today would be the last day of the festival and tomorrow he would be executed. He thought ho himself “I need to do something, I refuse to die without knowing my calling”. On some level he knows what he is trying is not working and decides to try something different, something he had never read about in any book or heard in any tale.
Closing his eyes, he imagines the heat from the torch, it’s too far away to feel but he tries anyway. He imagines the torch as the sun, warming his skin on a cold spring morning, flowers blooming from its life-giving light. He feels a spark inside of him and homes in on that feeling. Picturing himself as a young sunflower, trying to drink in the suns light, his roots burrow deeper and his limbs start to lengthen.
Liam felt something deep within himself click. The torches have all gone out, even the ones around the corner at the end of the corridor. But he’s not thinking about that, because there is a blue screen Infront of him. Its soft blue light keeps his cell well lit.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Liam stared at it with wonder, he had never in his life heard of somebody being able to do this. As he shook his head in wonder, the screen moved with him, it seemed to project wherever he was looking. It showed details about his life, his history, skills, absolutely everything about him that you could think of. Liam focused on the first few lines.
Name
Liam Terlock
Body
3
Mana
7/7
Spirit
Light
Condition
Malnourished (minor)
He had never heard of somebody with a light spirit before, sure people who could produce tremendous amounts of light, enough to turn night into day if they tried hard enough, but it was always a secondary effect from something else.
Trying to banish the darkness, Liam opens his hand and imagines a small ball of light. Nothing happens, thinking back to what made things click, he tries again. This time he feels the light moving through his body, starting at this heart and moving up his chest and down his arm, once again opening his hand he is greeted with a beautiful ball of yellowish light. With a huge grin he says out loud while pumping his fist “Dad was right, it finally happened”. Glancing at his mana counter it now says 6/7. He tries experimenting, he can toss it from hand to hand, place it on the floor, it even sticks to the wall if he concentrates for a bit.
Approaching footsteps interrupt his experimentation. It’s for his morning meal, Liam started to panic a bit. Light spirit or not he was still sentenced to death. He needed to get out of here. Praying that the light would be gone, Liam opened his eyes and was happy to be greeted with darkness.
He could hear a guard complain to himself about cheap torches and unspirited people bringing bad luck. The guard stops to replace each burned out torch along the way, giving Liam a few moments to come up with a plan. Faster than he has ever done in his life, Liam disrobes and stuffs his stained clothing under the straw, leaving a little bit of his pants sticking out.
As light returns to his cell, and despair truly infesting his heart. Liam imagines some of the light within him leaving his body and creating a mirror shell around it, something that would reflect or refract incoming light. He stares at his arms with amazement, as if a veil is being pulled over them, as they disappear from sight.
The guard finishes replacing torches and approaches Liam’s cell. “Alright you little bastard, breakfast time your second last I reckon” he chuckles to himself. Not seeing or hearing anything he takes a closer look into the cell. “Oi! can see you hiding under the straw, don’t make me come in there or you’re going to regret it” he threatens menacingly. Liam sits coiled up in the opposite corner, ready to move out when the time was right, he can feel his heart pounding in his chest, desperation forcing his naked and shivering form to stay quiet. A moment later, the guard sighs to himself. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya” he mutters as he bends back the bars, allowing his bulky form into the cell.
Silently as he can, Liam edges closer to the bars, moving out of the cell while the guard stomps inside. Turning left towards the dead end instead of right towards freedom, he stays silent and hidden. Several moments later a thoroughly confused guard leaves the cell, he puts the solid steel bars back to their original shape leaving no indication it was moved. The guard turns back the way he came with Liam shadowing his footsteps quite as a mouse.
The guard approaches the end of the corridor, he stops before a heavy metal gate. He clenches his fist and raises it above his head, the gate disappears out of sight into the ceiling above, Liam quickly moves forward before he gets locked behind. A few steps later, Liam hears a loud clatter of metal and stone behind him.