Elia

Elia: “So you can walk on water, but you can’t move water? Ain’t that kinda stupid?”.

Riverman: “You are not listening to me girl. You are making it more complicated than it is”. He pointed his stick at the human diagram he had made out of smooth-colored river stones. It was sectioned into three areas. Arms, the body, and the head and shoulders.

They sat next to a slow trickling brook that branched off of the Flume. The trees were everywhere creating a calm atmosphere with dotting trickles of light raining down from the canopies.

Riverman: “The body is the essence of the god and what it embodies”. He pointed to the body of the figure. “When your body is touched it becomes that of your god. Allowing you to traverse your god’s domain with ease. It also gives you a host of other abilities if you had been paying any attention to my lecture”. He whipped the stick to point at Elia’s face.

Elia: “Uhhhh. Can we just get on to improving my god’s power. This boring stuff gives me nothin”. Elia sat on a white crest-shaped rock sat near the stream.

The Riverman smacked her face with the stick. It left a red line on her cheek.

Riverman: “If you wish not to learn then you may leave. You clearly are ungrateful of a wise teacher”.

Elia: “Bastard!” she yelled while shooting up from her seat. She jumped closer to him and stuck a punch into his hooded face. She felt nothing but water splash on her arm. Droplets singed to steam as they flew close to her crown.

Riverman: “Looking for me?”.

She turned and saw the hooded man was behind her. In front where he just stood was a small puddle seeping into the stones.

Elia: “How did you—?!”.

Another smack of the stick struck. This time on her hip.

Elia: “Bastard!”. She swung a wide reckless fist to where he stood. Again, nothing but a splash followed by a whack of the stick in another spot on her body. This cycle repeated another three times.

Eventually, she ran and tumbled to her sledgehammer which rested several paces away from their lecture circle. She was followed by the sound of rocks shifting from underneath her.

Elia: “I’ll get you now bastard”. She planted herself with the hammer upright to swing.

Riverman: “Oh will you now?” he said approaching her calmly. She smirked and landed a powerful overhand blow with the hammer as if she was chopping wood for a fire. Her arms had gotten noticeably better at handling the unwieldy tool.

She looked in awe as his hood and cloak crashed to the ground in a deluge of water. Did he disappear? Turned into water? Something happened Elia knew. His cloak lay limp on some rocks, covered in a puddle made from his body.

Her smirk died down after a few seconds. She quickly turned her head in a swivel.

Elia: “Riverman? Where are you?”. Oh no. She looked at her sledge. She dropped it and raised her hands to her face. “You idiot!”. She slumped to the rocks below. She stared at her sledgehammer; tears began to well in her eyes. Then swung it into the brook. It kerplunked.

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Riverman: “You know, I’m not getting that for you,” The Riverman said crouched next to Elia.

Elia: “Ahhhh!”, she screamed. “I killed you. H-how?”.

Riverman: “You seem to have gotten a little too hot headed. A normal person would have been crushed to death”.

The Riverman grabbed both her shoulders and stared into her. She could always catch glimpses of his face, but now she saw it fully. He had short white and gray hair. His skin was pale with a green undertone. His collarbone and neck seemed to give off a reflection from her crown similar to the scales of the trout. His face made him out to be in his fifties. His eyes were the deepest green-blue she’d ever seen.

Riverman: “Listen carefully. When your body is touched, you embody the essence of your god. My body is water. If flows, it moves, it rushes and crashes. I am my river”. He pressed his wet hands to the sides of her head and leaned in. “Do you understand?”.

Elia: “Y-yes”.

Elia: “So you can’t be killed then? That’s amazing, I wish my body was touched. I could probably, I don’t know actually”. Elia tried to transition to normal conversation. She felt worse than she ever had. She had tried to kill The Riverman. He didn’t deserve to be abused by her anger. He had been nothing but helpful.

Riverman: “You don’t even know what you can do with your current abilities. Here let’s start”. He began to collect dry twigs and branches from the nearby trees. Elia soon followed.

Elia: “What are we doing now?”.

Riverman: “We’re going to learn your crown’s power”.

Elia: “Right, I know I can grow flames as long as I can match it with my breath. But that’s all I’ve learned”.

They continued to gather, she got frustrated by The Riverman postponing discussion until they had the fire made.

Riverman: “Now try making the fire with only your crown,” he said pointing to the pile of tinder and branches. She looked at him like he was crazy.

Elia: “Wha—?”.

Riverman: “Just try”.

She took a deep breath and stared at the flame. She took another breath, this one deeper and longer. And then another. She looked at The Riverman with a black expression.

Elia: “I don’t think it’s working”.

Riverman: “You’ve tried for a single minute. Keep going”.

She looked back down and closed her eyes. Twigs, check. Leaves, check. She envisioned where they were on the ground in her mind. Ember, no. She envisioned her small charcoal next to her bag. She pictured it next to the twigs and leaves.

Riverman: “Good. Keep it up,” he said while she still had her eyes closed.

Surprised, she opened them. The ember was floating in the air next to the pile of leaves and twigs. She shot a glance at her log next to her bag. The ember there was gone. It must have moved to be in front of her.

Riverman: “Great. Now try moving the twigs”. He stood with arms crossed under his cloak nodding.

She took another deep breath and closed her eyes. She immediately could envision the ember in the space in front of her. She had to remember where the twigs and kindling were. She tried moving them, but they didn’t budge. The coal whirled in circles as she commanded it. It was quite fun to see the circles of light in her mind.

Riverman: “Good. It seems your god’s goals don’t encompass trees”.

Elia: “Goals,” she said kneeling down to make a proper fire. She stacked the twigs in a pyramid structure with the dry leaves inside. With her mind, she moved the ember inside the structure and it lit. She was quite proud.

Riverman: “If touched on your head or mantle, you are given the crown of your god. A god’s crown represents their goals and ideals. Giving you your god’s ability to interact and manipulate their will”. He sat close to the fire and warmed himself.

Elia: “So because my god is that of a forge I can manipulate fire, that’s not a goal is it?”. In conversation she had successfully attuned her breathing to the fire, it now fluttered whenever she spoke.

Riverman: “Forging steel requires heat. Fire is heat. Hence you control heat. If it were not autumn, you may be able to manipulate hot weather around you”.

Elia: “Wow… Say. Id like to try something”. She got up and walked to the edge of the brook.

She closed her eyes again and focused on the slow flowing of the water. There it was. She focused on it, being able to see it in her mind’s eye. Then with her closed vision, she lifted it from the water.

The Riverman started clapping from behind her. Her sledgehammer was floating above the water, metal head up.

Water dripped from its long handle into the brook, making a tranquil rhythm.

Elia: “Oh Yeah!” she said jumping in the air with a fist. She turned to The Riverman with eyes wide. “This changes everything!”.

He just responded with a laugh.