In the year 1847 after Amri, somewhere in the third world northern hemisphere, in a medium-sized field surrounded by palm trees, two men (a young and a middle-aged) stood, facing each other in a manner that resembled a teacher and his student.
The young man was dressed in a traditional white cloak that extended up to his knees and black pants that covered only the upper half of his shin. A red turban that was used to tie his forehead danced in the morning air.
Although it was still dark, if you looked closer you could see the face of this young man. He was none other than Armad Wilberforce.
The man facing him was his grandfather, professor Zaikid.
It was Armad's 31st training session with his grandfather.
Zaikid cleared his throat. "Other people should be proud if they can enslave a djinn and use their powers for Bending, but to you, that's not a feat worth mentioning.
"Because you are a Wilberforce your life will be different. You should not relax just because you have passed the first stage.
"Now you have to master the path of lightning Bending. To be able to Bend at will and with the minimum strain on your core.
"Today, I will teach you two powerful Bending techniques. One you can use at your current level, but the other you have to wait until you have 100 years to use it. Do you like swords?"
Armad nodded.
At the same time, the cold morning air blew the professor's voluminous cloak to reveal a saber hanging on his left arm.
The professor took a step forward to face Armad directly. "Good," he said. "I have a question for you. Between lightning and wind, which do you think is faster?"
The young Armad was surprised by the question. From his understanding, nothing was faster than wind, so he didn't even feel the need to debate on it.
"Professor, the wind is faster."
When they trained, Armad always addressed his grandfather formally as a professor.
Zaikid smiled at his answer. "You are wrong. If it's the speed you are talking about, lightning is the one. It's also easier to control for both djinns and men. How long do you think it takes a lightning strike from the sky to hit the ground? It's less than a split second."
Armad had many expressions on his face that spoke of surprise, doubt, and even defiance. But in the end, he nodded.
His grandfather just smiled. "You may not believe me now," the professor said. "But you will in the future. Do you know about a Bend called {Blood Barrier}?"
"Yes, professor," Armad said, nodding, "it's a unique Bend used by wind Benders to slash their opponents so fast that it takes several seconds after the slash before blood appears on the wound. Because of this, you will rarely see blood on the sword of experienced wind Benders."
Armad had memorized a collection of popular Bends called 'classic Bends' published by Arcana Bends in the year 1831. So the answer came naturally.
The professor nodded in agreement. "Armad, do you know there is a sword-enhancement Bend that's faster than the Blood Barrier?"
Armad narrowed his eyes in clear doubt. "Is that even possible? How can a sword move any faster?" His face was a mixture of awe and shock.
The professor just smiled and retrieved the saber in his cloak. In this session, he would teach his grandson two unique Bends that Armad didn't even know were possible.
The present...
In this mysterious place he found himself in, Armad attacked the guardian with his lightning sword. The guardian raised his sword, which had been burning with red flame, and slashed the air in Armad's direction. He wasn't taking any chances despite what he said about wanting to just stretch his arms.
At first, nothing happened, and Armad continued his attack. But two seconds later, the air in the area heated up quickly.
At four seconds after the guardian's slash, the air was so hot it burned. Armad was forced to a stop as every step he took closer to the guardian the heat doubled and he felt as if he was immersed in hot oil.
Even as he stopped, the air between himself and the guardian caught fire. It burned hotter and brighter by the second. Then it coalesced at the center.
At ten seconds after the guardian's slash, the flame had fused into a giant fireball that looked so big you could mistake it for a boulder.
Armad stared at the abomination, agape and in wonder. And before he could come up with a counter, the fireball flew toward him. It was faster than Armad thought was possible for anything of its size.
By the twelfth second after the guardian's slash, the fireball reached his position. It descended on him like hell.
The hair on his nape raised, signifying an imminent danger that could very well destroy him if he allowed it to hit him.
At the moment when the fire was just about to engulf him, he braced himself and called the Bend he learned from his grandfather on that day.
"Photon Jump!"
Stolen story; please report.
As the words left his mouth, he disappeared from his position and reappeared several meters away, gasping.
The fireball continued forward and collided with one of the baobab trees. The tree was instantly reduced to ashes and the fireball, which was slightly smaller now, continued to hit the next tree and the one behind it. Just like this, five massive trees were reduced to ashes by the fireball before it dissipated.
Armad who barely escaped the fireball saw what happened and he was convinced that calling {photon jump} was the right move, despite the consequences.
He mostly used it to escape certain deaths. Using it, he could travel long distances at will. And the only requirement besides pol was for him to know where he wanted to go and to imagine the place in his mind at the time of reciting the incantations. Every {jump} would cost 5 years, leaving him with just another 11 years available for Bending. What was even more dangerous about the Bend was the resultant 12.2% collapse of the core which would only heal at 0.01% every hour. Thus, even at his top form, Armad could only use the {photon jump} once in a while.
After using the {photon jump}, Armad now had 23.3% of his core to spare and more than 10 years of pol, so he thought about the most appropriate Bend to defeat the guardian. None of his other Bends caused this much damage to his core and there were many he could use in his situation. But, he would better defeat the guardian sooner rather than later to avoid any unnecessary...
The guardian swung his blade, which was still burning, and slashed the air again.
Armad had expected another fireball, but when the guardian's sword hit the air, instead of the fireball, a blue flame came out of the tip of the sword.
For five seconds, the blue flame accumulated. The guardian stared at Armad so fiercely that it appeared he wouldn't take his eyes away until Armad was dead.
Armad sweated even harder as he saw the flame forming into a ring of fire. Even the red scarf he used to tie his forehead was drenched.
Gradually, the flame formed a complete ring. At first, it was just a foot wide, but it kept widening rapidly at two to three feet every second. At some point, Armad realized the flame had started moving toward him just like the fireball from before. It wasn't as fast as the fireball, but the feeling of danger he got from it had far exceeded the one from the fireball.
He also realized that in every area the flame passed, some dust was dropping on the ground from behind the flame.
Armad had an idea about what the dust might be. So he quickly bent down and took some sand in his hands and threw it at the approaching flame. The sand passed through the ring. And, to his dread, it wasn't sand that came out. No, it was ash. This all but confirmed his earlier thoughts. That the dust he saw earlier was nothing but the air that touched the flame and was instantly burned to ash without following the natural step of setting the air on fire first.
Among the things that Armad mastered very well was the difference between individual djinns and the various steps you could use djinns for Bending, including the nature and cost of popular Bends. He knew about this blue flame. It was called 'Jukísa' in Aldurish, meaning 'To Ashes'. It cost roughly 38 years. If the guardian was using 100 years then the resultant core collapse after using it would be roughly 39%. He didn't know how fast the guardian could heal after using it, but that shouldn't matter to him when he could win the duel without needing to attack again.
It was mentioned in many books that whatever passed through the 'ring of Jukisa' would be reduced to ashes. There were many descriptions about how it happened, but one thing all the books agreed upon was on that millisecond when the body crossed the ring, the blue flame would burn it so hot and fast that the bones would be reduced to ashes without catching fire first.
According to the records, nobody below 150 years had ever survived a touch of the blue flame. They always turned to powder, Lindau had said in his popular book - the curse of the flames.
Another great malice of the blue flame was how it easily expanded to cover great distances. Initially, the ring was only one foot wide, but now it was over a hundred feet in diameter, with Armad at its center. It would be nigh impossible for Armad to escape the flame by just running around. After all, the flame would always adjust its center to match Armad's exact position.
Armad's heart raced even faster, something he didn't know was possible since his heart was already pounding.
At this point, the guardian stopped feeding pol to his blade and it stopped burning. He was sure of victory, so he sheathed his blade.
Meanwhile, Armad was forced to consider all his options as he stood in his sweat-soaked robe.
By now, the ring of the blue flame had expanded to over two hundred feet in diameter, shifting its center to fit Armad's position. Simultaneously, inching closer to him until it was just a few feet away.
In this dire moment, Armad steeled himself and his face changed as if he was suddenly possessed. A few seconds ago, he looked frightened and doubtful; he was uncertain, but now his eyes reeked of determination. He knew what he must do.
Armad used his right hand to untie the scarf on his forehead. He started with untying the first knot on the back of his head and then the other two knots on each side.
The headband wasn't just for show. No, it was made from the sacred fabric of Jamsic. The inhabitants of the lower worlds used it only to hide priceless artifacts from the eyes of men and djinns as it was both expensive and rare. The fabric was naturally resistant to magic and it had the natural ability to block any light form. No man could see through it.
But why would Armad use something so expensive just to cover his forehead?
The answer was on his forehead. As he untied the headband, a unique mark became apparent on his forehead.
At first glance, the mark appeared to be on his skin. But upon a closer inspection, the mark wasn't actually on the skin, only its reflection shining from the bones beneath was. Even if you were to cut the skin on the forehead, the mark would still be there.
This mark had three parts. A picture of a humanoid statue at the center holding a war hammer in its hands, looking too real for a visual representation.
A picture of three swords surrounding the statue in a circle. The swords gave a feeling of death and angst. It was so strong that the swords seemed to be dripping the blood of the fallen.
Around the swords, some writings encircled the whole mark. The letters were written all over, interwoven and jumbled, such that even if you could understand the language it would be difficult to read it. Armad who was conversant in over ten languages couldn't identify it. He had never come across the written documentation of the language anywhere. When he first saw it, he had asked his grandfather about it, hoping to have it translated, but the old man refused. It was either he too didn't know it, or he didn't want to do it.
As soon as Armad unwrapped the mark, his forehead glowed with red light. Armad quickly bit his index finger so hard that it bled. Then he dipped the bleeding finger in the mark.
When his finger passed through the first layer of red light, the mark absorbed the blood from his finger like an insatiable vortex.
The three encircling swords between the statue and the writings started turning, revolving around the statue.
Slowly, as if it was being brought back to life, the statue raised the war hammer in its hand. Armad screamed in agony. It didn't seem he would ever get used to the pain. His body trembled and suddenly became covered in small lightning bolts from head to toe.