The rushing water was unyielding, its flow threatening to throw Aldric off balance with every passing drop. It splashed against his shoulder and dragged across his chest and back, threatening to rip him into its currents, but he refused to give up ground. He lifted his left hand, the water cutting past the gaunt appendage as if it did not exist. He let the water crash into his palm and flow between his fingers, bracing his feet against the added pressure. His breathing was steady, his eyes locked on the water splashing and spilling around his hand. His muscles tensed, his arm locked rigidly against the flow. Brow furrowing from strain, he prepared his mind.
His right hand was placed over his heart, and he willed the fire that burned inside him to move. He traced a line from his chest past his shoulder and up his extended left arm. The heat followed, pressing through his joints and squeezing past his muscles till it reached the very tips of his fingers. His right arm moved back, this time following the natural flow of the water across his arm to his chest, and away downstream. His energy followed the path of the water.
Aldric envisioned the river coursing through him, the flows of energies inside him perfectly matching the currents he stood in. It was strong and wild, but it flowed with determination and direction. He allowed that flow to pass through him, shifting the energy that moved between his fingertips until it was indistinguishable from the energy of the water itself. His body bent to the will of the river, and soon he became as one with it.
His focus remained unwavering on his left hand. The water no longer splashed against it, but now flowed around it. As he split the fire into two flows, the water split with it. He relaxed the tensing in his arms ever so slightly, and the split grew, the water giving way around his entire forearm. He concentrated his magic forward, focusing the manipulation of energy into the palm of his hand. The water reacted, retreating. The current became more violent before him, crashing into an invisible dome inches away from his hand. He took a deep breath and more of his arm relaxed. The dome grew, the water now curving and rushing past his torso with barely a drop touching him. The river bent to the will of his mind.
Before long Aldric allowed enough fire to flow through him to divert all the water around his body. The stream violently rejoined itself behind him, deafening all other sounds. He paid it little mind, maintaining his focus. The fire coursed through him, but it did not burn. His arm remained tense, and eventually, it would tire, but until then he would remain here, unwavering against the rush of the water.
As the sun crept higher above the horizon, Aldric’s strength wavered more and more. Sweat replaced the water that dried from his body, and the furrow of his brow only grew more intense. His arm was twitching, and small aches were radiating from his joints. He decided to stop, for now, slowly tensing his arm and allowing the natural flow of the water again. He braced his legs as the stream rushed past them again.
In a matter of seconds, the river was restored to its natural state, flowing past his narrow frame. He looked downstream, remembering the many times he had been swept away. He shook his head, grinning at the memory, and then he carefully made his way back to the riverbank. There he dried himself as best he could before donning his rags and heading back into the trees.
He deftly moved between the trees, ducking and dodging around familiar obstacles until he reached a clearing. It seemed like a natural break in the trees, save for the large swath of cleared ground to the north. Mighty trees once stood there, but it had been years since they last graced the skyline. Now, a clumsy but well-kept garden took their place.
Aldric walked between the plants, studying each of them closely until he reached the last row. These looked wildly different from all of the others. Some were bearing fruit far out of season, others grew taller than the rest of their kind. More were dead or dying, and few sported odd colours and contorted growths. He moved to one near the end of the line. It appeared normal, with small green fruits dangling from its branches.
He crouched by it, placing one hand on the ground by the plant’s stalk and another at the tip of one of the branches. His back became rigid and his arms stiff as he allowed the fire to flow out of his palm and into the ground. From his other hand, he called to it, guiding it up the stalk and through the branch of the plant. He made sure to temper the flow and kept his feet as far away as he could. He guided his energy into one of the small fruits.
It began to swell, steadily growing and shifting from a dull green to a bright red hue. When he was satisfied he stopped the flow and relaxed his body. The fruit dangled invitingly, and he quickly plucked it from the branch and took a bite.
His face almost instantly contorted, and he let the morsel fall from his mouth. He rolled his eyes and angled his arm upwards, tensing up again before letting free a burst of fire from his core. It stung slightly as it cut through his arm and crashed into the fruit, sending it sailing far over the tree line.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
He walked to one of the bushes in the other rows and plucked a few berries from it, tossing them into his mouth and moving back to the centre of the clearing, where he sat down with his legs crossed over each other. His hands rested in his lap, fingertips gently pressed together.
He relaxed his body as much as he could, and willed the fire to flow throughout, reaching to the tips of his fingers and toes, crossing the gaps where his hands and legs touched and rejoining itself. It swirled in eddies and whirlpools throughout him. It was chaotic. Occasionally he felt it sear against his skin, threatening to tear out of him. He adjusted the flow, containing it inside of him. It was far too strong for him to control, but he could guide it. It was uncomfortable and at times his jaw would hurt as he gritted his teeth through pain, but he refused to give up.
The sun rose ever higher, shortening the shadows of the trees. When it cast a light through his closed eyes, Aldric decided it was enough. He stopped the flow of the fire and stood, stretching out his limbs. He grabbed a yellow fruit from his garden and walked West, opposite the way of the river. He relished in the sound of the forest, nearly untouched by man. He had found peace here that no town had ever given him.
After walking for long enough for the shadows to begin elongating again he reached another clearing at the base of a large rocky hill. The clearing led naturally into a small cave where he took shelter during snow and rain. In midsummer, Aldric found the clearing much more pleasant and found other uses for the rocky hill.
He scanned the ground, quickly finding a stone he liked. He clenched his fist, then stomped his foot on the ground and raised his hand into the air. The stone followed his hand, flying into the air. He shook his leg, but no pain rang out.
He repeated the exercise, this time slamming his left hand into the side of the rocky hill and guiding the distant stone with his right. It arced through the air in the general direction he moved his hand. Again he shook the striking appendage but felt none of the telltale signs of the fire burning him. He kept going, repeatedly striking the earth with his limbs, increasing the force until he felt the slightest sting from within.
Countless hours of effort, pain, and focus were finally showing their dividends. Pride swelled, but he fought to keep a level head. Even with all the progress he had made, he was nowhere near in control of the inferno that lurked within his frail form. He looked to the sky. The sun was steadily lowering, touching the tips of the trees. His visage fell slightly as he braced himself for the worst part of his routine. Setting his sights, he travelled South-East.
As the sun dipped underneath the treeline Aldric broke free from the forest, coming into view of the town he refused to call his home. He straightened his back and made his way to the town square. It bustled with activity, merchants trying to offload their goods, and peasants bartering for better deals. He meandered through the square, clumsily colliding with a few people as he went. Each derided him to be more careful, some more cruelly than others. All refused to pay him any more mind than they had to.
Aldric couldn’t help but smirk at their blind derision. It made the work of his fingers much easier, and the burden on his soul from each coin all the lighter. Ducking into an alley he quickly counted all the deira he earned, placing it on a worn pouch he carried tightly under his arm. He considered doing a second pass but thought better of it. A misplaced coin here and there was easily dismissed, but if it happened to too many people the guards would get suspicious, and even those drunks would not struggle to place him as the culprit. They would do it even if he was innocent.
He waited for a few minutes before he left the alley, hoping his victims would have left by now. His last stop was the baker. The hag wasn’t at her usual spot at the counter, but Aldric had no desire to wait for her. He placed two deira on the counter, picked the most delicious-looking loaf, and headed out. His legs moved quickly, carrying him out of town without delay.
He returned to his clearing just as the last rays of light broke through the trees. He placed the loaf on the ground and piled some of his gathered wood into the pit he had dug. He lifted his left hand so it would catch a ray of light, and waited. Slowly, he felt the heat from the sun against his skin. It was less than he would like, but he would make do. He touched his right pointer finger to his left hand, and traced a line across his body, ending with him pointing at the pile of wood.
The fire crackled inside him, the heat from the sun emboldening it. He tensed as much as he could before allowing it to flow along the path he made. It shot from his right hand to his left, squeezing between his muscles and shooting from his finger in a cone that enveloped the wood. He maintained the stream for a few seconds before cutting off the flow and relaxing his body. He released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. The wood burned with a gentle orange glow, unlike the bright white jet that lit it.
Aldric took in the last rays of daylight, turning to admire his small oasis of freedom and peace. He cast his eyes to the South-West. Something was amiss there. He could see it above the trees. The sky was unnaturally darkened. The last rays of sun caught the large grey clouds as they billowed up.
“Oh no,” he whispered. He quickly doused his fire with a bucket of water he kept in his clearing. He ran into the treeline, moving at speeds only someone as familiar with the forest as he could. The bucket thudded against the ground where he abandoned it. Where he was going, he was going to need a bigger one.