Leaves rustled and twigs snapped as Aldric dashed through the brush, dodging leaping over obstacles, making his way closer to the brightening glow before him. The sky was painted with a false sunset that threatened to destroy everything in its path. The billows of smoke emanate from further and further South. He would not have long. He changed his course slightly, aiming directly for the nearest edge of town. The blaze was relentless, but this forest was his home. He could outpace it. The heat inside of him grew with his pace, and he allowed it to fill his body. Soon he would need to call on it.
Leaves and twigs scraped and slapped painfully against him as he cut past them. The edge of the forest was close. He could already hear the commotion of the townsfolk as they watched the distant inferno rapidly approach.
“What are you doing? You have to run!” Aldric shouted as he burst from the treeline. “It’s not safe here! The fire’ll burn up everything!”
“It’s none of your business, hermit!” an older man barked. “Go back to your nest!” Aldric wanted to bite back but refused to give them the satisfaction. Instead, he turned around and began walking back. At least he could protect his own home.
“Aldric, wait!” A voice called, paired with a hand on his shoulder.
“What do you want, hag?” Aldric asked, not turning to face her.
“A hunting party went out in that direction,” she said. “Please, it’s my son…” Aldric stared into the tree line.
“Why should I help you?” he asked.
“Please, I can’t lose him too.” Aldric scowled, his eyes boring into the nearby trees.
“Dammit,” he said, spinning around and running past the crowd into one of the nearby homes.
“Hey, what do ya think you’re doing?” someone called after him. He did not bother responding. He ran inside and rummaged around for a second, before emerging with a pail of water. He swiftly dumped the water out on himself before dashing right through the crowd into the forest, directly towards the fire.
“What is that wretch even doing here?” one of the citizens asked.
“Probably started the fire, if you ask me,” another answered.
Aldric was already too far gone to hear them, though. Once again he moved swiftly through the roots and plants that threatened to snag his feet. The cool night air felt even colder against his soaking-wet skin. He took a deep breath, drawing the cold into his body. It mingled with the fire within and swirled all throughout. His arm extended out in front of him, every muscle from the tips of his fingers to his shoulder tensing as much as he could before he let the fire out.
A wave of cold blew out from his palm, coating the plants before him in icy frost. Satisfied with this, he turned his attention back to running. Sooner than he wanted, he was at the edge of the blaze. Again he extended his hand before him, tense with both effort and nerves. The cold shot forth, but did little to slow the fire. He slowly relaxed his arm, letting more of the power inside him tear out until it was enough to push back the heat. He took a step forward, and then another. A frosted path formed before him, and he quickly made his way deeper into the heart of the fire.
The crackling of the burning trees was all-encompassing. Orange and yellow flames danced wherever he looked. Smoke and soot filled his lungs with every breath, but he pressed on. No one could survive this hell, but he could at least try to bring a body back for the hag to bury. He scanned his surroundings for any sign of the surely perished hunting party, but the universe had become an inferno that was slowly threatening to swallow him whole. The roaring flames overwhelmed his senses, but for just a moment he could see something through the trees.
It vanished behind a curtain of fire just as quickly as it appeared, and he was almost certain that it was just a mirage, but he had to be sure. He pressed in the direction of the mirage but found nothing. The smoke and heat were disorienting him, and his frosted path to safety was quickly diminishing. The fire outside crackled louder, and the fire within instinctively rose to the challenge. Aldric felt whips of energy singe through his body. A mound of ice almost as tall as him had formed in front of him by the time he got his power back under control, but he hardly noticed it. He looked slightly to the left. For a single instance, when the energy pierced through his eyes, he could see it.
He ran, freezing his path as best he could. His arm was growing weary, slight stings radiating up the extended limb, but he could not afford to let up. He could see them, and he had to reach them fast. Within seconds he burst into a tiny break in the tree, where three men stood with their backs to each other. Two of them desperately slammed their coats on the ground, trying to keep the flames at bay, while the third created a magical breeze to carry smoke away from them. They were coughing and wheezing, their arms and legs marred with burns, but they continued to fight. Aldric lifted his other arm and relaxed his muscles more, covering the area around the men in ice.
“Come, we have to leave now!” he barked, pointing into the narrowing path he made here. He spun around and walked back, moving slower than he would like to. The men were hurt and struggled to keep up. He froze the ground again as they walked, passing by his small glacier and finally making a beeline back out of the blaze. His original path was almost completely consumed by the fire, and the cold on his skin was all but gone. The ice pouring out of him rapidly grew insignificant against the flames.
“We have to go faster!” he shouted, getting behind the men and pushing them forward. He could barely budge them as they trudged along, limping and swaying as the effects of the fire surpassed the effects of adrenaline. A loud crack stood out above the roar, and Aldric looked up to see a tree slowly leaning over towards them, breaking in the middle and threatening to crush them. He had nearly no time to react. He raised his hands towards the oncoming log and drew all the fire he could into his body, ejecting it from his arms with all the force he could muster. Daggers ripped from his chest to his fingers as a blinding white ball of fire shot out of his palms and incinerated the long, along with a large portion of the treetops.
When he turned around he saw the backs of the men disappearing behind a closing curtain of fire. They had escaped and left him behind. His arms ached, and his will sagged. Even if he got out, the town would burn to cinders within minutes, and soon enough his own home would fall victim to this blaze. There were not enough buckets in the entire kingdom to fight this blaze. They would need an entire river.
His will perked up at this thought. He was close enough. He did not know if he was strong enough, but he had to try. Turning around, he sprinted back into the fire. His frozen path guided him back to the now-pitiful heap of ice he had created. He picked up the crumbling fragments and rubbed them over his face, feeling their chill and drawing it in. Keeping the largest fragment in one of his hands, he summoned the ice again and aimed himself West. He knew he could not freeze the whole fire, but perhaps he could drown it.
Aldric’s lungs burned and he could barely see through the tears in his eyes, but he pushed himself forward until he broke free of the treeline again, coming directly to the river's shore. Reflections of the flames danced in the ripples, only impeded by Aldric’s silhouette, barely noticeable against the orange hell that reigned behind him. He looked up the stream, to his home. The inferno continued to rage. Soon all he ever had in this world would be ash. He turned his sights downstream, where the smallest sliver of town jutted out onto the riverbank. The flames were already licking the nearest buildings.
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After how that town treated him, it deserved to burn. He knew he could make it up the stream in time to save his home. He would finally truly be at peace. His gaze longingly lingered upstream for a moment, before he took a deep breath and entered the water, wading in until the stream came halfway up his shoulders. He aligned himself with the river, extending both his arms. He did not have enough time to let his body come into harmony with nature.
Aldric commanded the energy in his body, tracing a line from his chest to the tip of his right hand, and then out to his left, pointing downstream. He took a moment to feel the stream pulling against him before he closed his fist around the water. The power flowed between his hands with such ferocity the water had no choice but to follow its path. It fought against his will, the chaos of nature rebelling against the order of his mind. Aldric had to be stronger. He curved his left hand forward, and he felt the stream bend around him. It climbed up the shore, a few inches, before falling back as his grip slipped.
This would not be enough. The river would not be satisfied with a portion of his power. He needed to bring out every ounce of fire his body would burn. His breathing threatened to escape his control, but he commanded his lungs to obey. In a moment of serenity, he let go of the constant awareness of his power. He let it cut and tear through him, only guiding it between his fingers. Immediately his legs buckled, but he did not fall. He grasped the water again and began to move. Every fibre of his being screamed out as he pushed his left hand forward, and the water surged up the banks. In his periphery he saw the blaze engulf more of the forest, destroying the peace that he found there.
Power coursed through all of his body, lashing at his eyes and letting him gaze deep into the fire. His ears heard every crackle of flames, every panicked animal’s screams, and the desperate efforts of the townsfolk. It all crashed into his mind like a tidal wave.
His voice pierced the heavens, echoing his pain. It felt like his soul was being rended in two, but he refused to yield. The water crested the bank, and rushed across the floor of the forest, following the decline. Around him, the water swirled into a vortex of white foam and cutting drops that spun around him fast enough to carve the stones at his feet in two. The river flooded over its banks, centuries of nature’s work collapsing to Aldric’s power. As the fire that threatened to consume the town succumbed to the water spilling over it, the fire inside Aldric roared with unbridled fury. His voice vanished, his eyes empty spheres staring into the stars. His body failed, and the vortex collapsed. Nature regained its hold, righting the river, and sweeping him into the turmoil of the flow.
The last few townsfolk watched from the stone bridge that led out of their home as the blaze shrunk away, reduced to a glow above the charred treeline. The water streamed over their homes, reaching them up to their ankles on the bridge. No one spoke. They could only watch with widened eyes as the might of the river came to their aid and doused the flames that threatened to destroy everything they held dear. The blaze continued in the distance, causing untold damage. Still, they felt hope. The river’s waters receded, and they followed it with their eyes.
“Hey, ain’t that someone in the water!” someone shouted. Everyone clambered to see and saw a small figure being swept around in the raging currents.
“Toss a rope down!” another voice called. They looked around, but nothing could be found that they could use to help the figure. One of the braver men jumped over the railing of the bridge into the stream as the figure drew near, grabbing it and dragging it to shore. The stream had carried them some ways away from the bridge, but soon enough a crowd had formed around Aldric as he coughed up water.
“What did you do?!” The eldest of them demanded. Aldric could not form a response. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to get a single full breath.
“Leave the boy be!” a more familiar voice demanded. “Can’t you see he’s hurt?”
“I don’t give a damn if he’s hurt,” the eldest barked. “This scum has always been a threat to us, and now look what he’s done! We should have left him to drown.” Aldric tried to look past the tears marring his vision. The hag had taken a stance between him and his persecutors.
“You don’t know that he started the fire,” she shot back. “And he was the only one brave enough to run back into that forest to help my son! Now for divine’s sake, someone fetch the priest to heal him!”
“No, this our people need his attention more than some measureless worm,” the eldest said. “This ingrate never should have lived to begin with.” Aldric tried to respond, to tell them he was not measureless. They made a mistake, and he wanted to show them, but he could not muster a sound. Every spasm of his lungs and stomach was agony. Every heartbeat traced tracks of pain throughout his body.
“How do you think he survived that fire?” the hag asked. “My son told me, the boy fought back against it with ice from his hands! And the river. Do you think it rushed up its banks by its own power? I don’t know how, but I know he was responsible.”
“Is that true, boy?” the eldest asked. Aldric lay curled on the ground, his coughing finally subsiding. He tried to answer, but could only manage to nod. “Then you have caused untold damage to this town! The water surely destroyed our crops, and with the forest burned, we have no means of repairing our homes or selling lumber! If your magic truly is so powerful, then you will spend the rest of your days repaying your debt to us!”
“No!” Aldric wheezed, wincing and tensing with the pain. “I was trying to help you!.”
“You were trying to destroy our home!” the eldest said. He turned to those around him. “Get him to the church and have the priest heal him. He will start his labour tomorrow, and we’ll send a request to the capital for a collar.”
Aldric put up weak, but futile resistance against the arms that lifted him and carried him back into town. The mud squelched beneath them as they moved. From across the bridge, the evacuees also returned, and life hesitantly returned to the town. Aldric’s mind fell in and out of awareness as he was dragged into the church and unceremoniously thrown into the cot in the back room. Soon enough the darkness took him, and when he awoke everything was still, and his pain was greatly subsided.
He got out of the cot and tried to leave, but a shackle around his ankle stopped him in his tracks. It was old and rusty, attached to the frame of the bed. Aldric fiddled with the cuff for a moment, but even in its rusted state he knew he could not break it. The wooden frame of the bed was another matter. Stretching out as far as he could, he managed to barely reach the short candle that provided some meagre light. The flame danced before his fingers, casting a gentle warmth onto his skin. He led the heat to his other hand, guiding it along the flows of energy inside him. Another small flame quickly formed in his palm.
He wrapped it around the frame of the bed right next to the shackle, putting his other hand on the opposite end. His knuckles were white as he gripped it with all his strength. Slowly, he relaxed, increasing the size of the flames. He could not risk starting another fire, so he worked slowly, eating away at the wood until it was charred and brittle enough for him to break. The noise echoed across the room and throughout the church and made Aldric freeze solid for several minutes.
When he was certain no one was coming to investigate, he made his way out of the church, the shackle dragging behind him. The treeline still emanated faint whisps of smoke that slightly obscured the stars, but it seemed like his gambit had worked. He wanted nothing more than to go back home, but it was long gone. The town was not safe either. The priest made his intentions very clear, and Aldric did not like the idea of a collar around his neck.
He could fight them, and he knew he could win, but that would bring the attention of the royal guard. If he had enough deira he could pay them to ignore him again, but a hermit like him had no means of making the amount he would need in a lifetime, let alone the days he had. He leaned back against the closed door of the church, his hope dwindling.
The crinkling of parchment made him jump forward. The sound possibly alerting someone was already a problem, but more so would be any damage he did to the parchment. It would only give them more to hold against him. He turned to check if there was any visible damage.
The poster glimmered in the moonlight, emblazoned with gold and scarlet. His eyes widened, and while he could not decipher the inscriptions on the page, he knew what it represented. Even the most recluse and lonesome people knew. This was it. His one opportunity. He carefully removed the poster and hurried into the blackened treeline, following the river North. His resolve was set. He was going to enter the Royal Tournament, and he was going to win.