“This is your home now,” his grandfather spoke slowly and precisely. Alex had been too scared to say anything. His grandfather’s ash-gray eyes softened, and he smiled knowingly.
“My family abandoned me a very long time ago,” he said, as he started to walk up the drive beckoning Alex to follow. “For very much the same reason. We will work with your gift when you are ready.” His eyes hardened again. “Make no mistake, you will work hard and help me keep this place going until then.” His grandfather continued to walk up to the house, and Alex followed behind quietly.
He took another bite of his sandwich and a sip of the soup as more memories of his past flooded into him.
“Help me, Alex help!” Alex heard his grandfather call him from the tree-line about 100 yards from the house. It was three days after his 18th birthday. His grandpa had gone out to get some wood for their winter stockpile. A stockpile is usually kept close to the home, but his grandfather was all about getting exercise wherever and whenever he could.
“Alex!” He heard it again and ran to his grandpa as quickly as possible. Alex entered the clearing of fresh cut logs that awaited splitting. Alex saw him then pinned beneath a large evergreen. His ax was a good 10 feet from him.
“Alex! Get my ax. Help me, this is heavy!” His grandfather shouted, grunting under the weight. Alex grabbed the ax and started chopping.
“Stop, stop,” his grandfather sounded winded. “Every swing crushes me more. I would do this myself, but my legs are broken, and my body cannot channel the energy required. You are going to need to listen to me very carefully.”
“Yes sir,” Alex replied, his hands a little shaky.
“Put both of your palms on the tree trunk and close your eyes.” Alex did as he was told. “I want you to concentrate, feel the texture of the wood; feel the spaces in the grain. Concentrate harder, feel the heat starting in your chest and push it outwards to your hands and into the spaces in the grain.” Alex could feel it; his chest wasn’t just warm, it was getting hot.
“I’m burning up,” Alex sputtered stifling a cry, steam coming off of his skin.
“Let it happen Alex. Just focus the heat into the tree trunk Alex,” Grandpa said calmly. The steam coming off of his skin now enveloped in swirling vortexes of heat, radiating into the tree.
“Feel the heat in the tree Alex?”
“Yes,” Alex nodded, still acutely focused.
“Open your eyes quickly, keep the heat in your mind and ignite it,” Grandpa said bracing himself against the trunk. Alex kept the image in his mind, funneling the heat through his skin to his palms. He opened his eyes, his pupils were encased in a corona of flame. Flame erupted from within the tree. Exploding outwards from both felled ends as the fire turned the center of the log to ash instantly. The bark of the hollowed trunk still steamed from the heat that passed through it.
“That ‘a boy!” His grandfather yelled happily as he pushed the husk of the log off his legs. He stood, brushed himself off, and smiled.
“I thought your legs were broken,” Alex said, breathing heavily. The last remnants of steam dissipated.
“Nah, I just wanted to get your head in the game.” He patted Alex’s shoulder as he spoke. “What you just learned was called combustion, your training starts today.”
Alex took another bite of his sandwich, he was trying to recall anything else his grandfather taught him that might prove useful.
“There comes a time when a shaman has to choose his path.” His grandfather spoke as he leaned against the railing of his deck peering up at the stars. “Whatever path you choose, you have my support, but it won’t be easy. You will have enemies.”
“Like who?” Alex asked he hadn’t spent more than a few hours away from home at any one point, so he found it hard to have friends let alone enemies.
“As a shaman, your power will draw out your enemies. Shamans will be looking to take your knowledge or your essence for their own.”
“Like vampires?” Alex asked incredulously.
“Worse, the vampires in the stories you see now are all plays on entities that actually existed. Most of them were called shades. They have no physical power of their own, but they can harvest a shaman’s energy and use it.” He turned to look at Alex as he continued. “Most shamans won’t bother each other; however there are some that are bent on power and will stop at nothing to become the most powerful. There is a measure of unpredictability in other elements which can lead to loss of life.” He paused. “Your primary threat at all times will be the assassins of Khorynn.”
“The Assassins of Khorynn?” Alex asked.
“Yes, these assassins cripple the shaman to the point where they cannot use their powers then deliver the bodies back to the shade of Khorynn so that it can feed on their energies making it stronger.” His grandfather paused for effect. Then he continued. “There are five basic elements, or schools of shamanism, that are represented by the last names of the strongest shamans to have come from their respective schools. Ravall, Meniscall, Lorailyen, Vrastal, and Khorynn. Earth, Wind, Fire, Water, and Shadow respectively. Now, most of my old teachers would scoff at what I’m about to tell you. Of the five elements, fire is the most volatile followed by shadow, wind, water, and earth. The power of fire rages with emotions or wanes with depression making it is easily susceptible to tremendous fluctuations in power. Elements will always draw people from the same school. Fire to fire, water to water do you get my meaning?” Alex nodded, trying to absorb everything. “It was taught for ages that shamans should stick to like elements. What they don’t teach is that if you manage to foster a relationship or a dear friendship with someone who isn’t of your element- grow attached to that person- your elemental attunement will become far more potent for it.
“Remember Alex, fire is fueled by your emotions. Passion, anger, and love are the things you will want to surround yourself with.” Grandpa had then realized he got side-tracked. “Ah, nothing like switching lanes of thought without a turn signal.” He laughed loudly. “Where was I?”
“You were talking about threats.” Alex started.
“Oh right, assassins. There are a couple of disciplines within their teachings. Most notably are the assassins. They are extremely deadly combatants who prefer to brandish a single blade of shadow. If you manage to see the blade, it’s usually passing along your throat moments after. They are a solid challenge if you know where they are and can catch them out in the open. If you can’t do that, or see more than one of them and are still alive, run. Force them to come at you in singles, that’s the only way you will survive. The other discipline is fewer and further between. They are the hunters. Hunters are a different animal entirely. They are some of the most powerful shamans of their respective elements, yet are aligned with no one good or evil. They hunt shamans for sport. They are identified by having at least 2 visible blades, sometimes more, but never less. They live to track and feel the rush of worthy prey eluding them. That is until they compensate for your weaknesses. They have unmatched abilities in the way of tracking your life force and sensing an opponent’s strengths and weaknesses. The longer you run, the longer you are delaying the inevitable. They will find you because that’s what they do. If you ever encounter one, hold your ground. Concentrate and don’t lose your focus. Use your flames as you need them; keep in mind every use drains your energy reserves. Don’t forget to eat before and after every fight.”
His grandfather’s words echoed in his mind as he finished his food. “Stand your ground, concentrate.” The voice continued to reverberate as he flagged down his waitress.
“Check please!” Alex asked loudly, but not too loudly. His waitress quickly brought the check, and Alex smiled at her as he took it.
“When you are ready sir, you can pay me at the front register.” She said happily.
“Thanks, Donna,” Alex said, reading her nametag for the first time.
Alex felt around for his wallet. “Must have left it at the office,” he said to hi
mself. A check will have to do. He smiled broadly as he wrote out the check and walked quickly to the register. He handed Donna the bill for $4.85 and his check that was folded in half.
“Keep the rest Donna, and have a wonderful night.” He turned and walked away, leaving Donna holding the check. On the back of the bill there was a note that read:
Nothing is ever as bad as it seems. Good luck to you.
In her now shaking hand, she held a check made out to her first name in the amount of $10,004.85 and on the note line it read:
Trust me, it’s good.
“Where’s my tea at?” The angry old man blurted out again, not seeing the cup of iced tea not 18 inches from his face. He had acquired his courage after Alex left the building. Donna smiled wickedly with tears in her eyes, walked over to the man and poured the pitcher of tea over his head as she walked out the front door leaving her apron behind.
16
David was sleeping soundly just feet from Dyaina as she slowly opened her eyes. A haze seemed to envelop every object. She tried to reach up to her face and rub her eyes, but her body was too weak. It felt like she was learning how to use her muscles all over again. She grunted softly out of frustration as she tried to adjust. David’s amber eyes flashed open when he heard her. He leaned forward and took Dyaina’s hand immediately.
“Thank the creator you’re awake!” David couldn’t hide his excitement and relief. Dyaina was unable to see the face of the man who held her hand.
“Who are you? Where am I?” David leaned forward a bit more, exposing his face to the light of a nearby table lamp. His eyes were misty. David was confident that her memory was gone. He was just thankful she was alive.
“You’re in my apartment,” David said, his voice a mere whisper as he brushed Dyaina’s hair away from her face. In the recesses of her mind, Dyaina felt she should know this man. There were too many gaps in her memory, too many fuzzy pictures. She forced herself to remember anything she could. She relived a portion of the battle with the maelstrom and even felt the energy she commanded. Then she remembered the paws of a giant wolf and a piercing howl of sadness. The howl, that’s it!
“D…David?” Dyaina spoke as if unsure of her own words. She tried to open her senses back up. David released the tears that had welled up in his glowing amber eyes. He hugged her tightly, sobbing quietly into her shoulder.
“I thought…” David stuttered. “I don’t know what I thought, but I didn’t think this was possible.” The tears rolled unrestricted from a man who was not known for his emotions.
“How is your memory?” He asked.
“Fuzzy,“ Dyaina responded flatly, still wishing she had the strength to rub her eyes or to stretch. “What happened?” She was unable to recall much of anything after the maelstrom. “Where is William?” David led her gaze with his own to the futon beside hers where a sleeping William rested. The damage on his back was clear to even her fuzzy eyes.
“Oh No! William!?” Dyaina struggled to reach out to her son. The impossibility of dealing with muscles that still didn’t want to cooperate brought tears of frustration to her eyes.
“Dammit!” Outside of a quick jerk in her torso, her body refused to move. She spoke again in agitated yet more measured words. ”What happened?” Her words were dripping with anger as her motherly instinct took over.
“Calm down. You need to conserve your energy.” David was quick to try and get her back into a comfortable position.
“Tell me what happened David.” Dyaina’s words were slow and deliberate, hovering on the sharp edge of anger.
“You died.” David began. The loss was still raw even though she was here now. “We all felt you go. William…brought you back. Actually, it looked more like he demanded you back.” David remembered the light show and acute emotion from two nights ago. Dyaina’s eyes widened in shock. She knew what her son was, but she didn’t think he was capable of something like this, not yet, probably not ever. He was an amateur playing with the potential of a master. Wait. He was an amateur, not even an apprentice. Dyaina’s mind began firing a bit quicker now, looking for answers.
“He brought me back by himself?” Dyaina was hoping the answer would be no. David told her everything that happened, about William channeling raw rift energy. Dyaina’s face went ashen. He conveyed to her what Brian had described to him. That Brian directed the energy as if he was a nozzle-man for the fire department but that’s all he could do with that much power.
“You let him channel the rift??” Dyaina was furious at how careless David had become.
“No one could have stopped him if we wanted to Dyaina,” David said quickly, trying to calm her down.
“Was there excess energy?” Dyaina asked quickly.
“Brian told me that William had filled himself completely before transferring to you.” Dyaina cursed. “Reckless, too damned reckless. He gets it from you, you know.” She looked accusingly at David.
“He also said-“ David was interrupted as Brian came into the room to check on his patients.
“William’s energy possibilities dwarf even yours Dyaina. And to answer, yes there was excess energy, a huge amount in fact. He expelled it all at once before passing out.”
“Oh no.” Dyaina realized what that meant. David looked a little lost, so Brian clarified.
“William has the capacity to be the most powerful shaman now known, rivaling maybe even surpassing Khorynn herself. He is a bit rough and needs training, but he is indeed the most powerful I have felt. He was incredibly lucky.” Brian spoke matter-of-factly.
“Now known?” David asked.
“William had to release the rift energy. It was never meant to be harnessed by a human body. You of all people know that. He would have burnt out if he held onto it any longer.” Brian checked William’s pulse and breathing as he continued. “When William released what was the equivalent of a few enchanters’ energy reserve into the atmosphere, it caused a ripple of energy and light that has traversed the globe several times over now. The upside is that only shaman can see or feel it, the downside is that only shaman can see or feel it.”
“So?” David asked, still lost. Rift wolf matters seemed infinitely easier to comprehend right now.
“He essentially turned himself into a beacon of energy that screams to any shaman, Hey come find me! Anyone who could feel the ripple knows the general area from which it came, like an epicenter of an earthquake it will take them a little time to figure out the actual source, but it’s only a matter of time. Our only saving grace right now is that we are in New York and the population is so thick in such a small area, so once we are found at the epicenter the population itself will give us some time before they can pinpoint his ultimate location. Some sensitives are undoubtedly on their way here now.”
“I’ll just rift us out of here.” David waved off the danger, instantly dismissing it.
“William is too weak to be moved right now. His body is on autopilot. It’s taking energy from everything in this building to heal itself. Walls, floors, appliances, tv’s; all of it is lending their energy to him. If you open a rift, his body will draw from it again, and you will kill him.” Brian said seriously.
“So what do we do?” David had always traveled with rifts, moving without them seemed like a huge chore.
“We wait, we don’t have a choice. I cannot heal an Archmage.” Brian’s tone spoke of defeat. Dyaina shot Brian an icy stare to silence him, but it was too late.
“Archmage?! You mean to tell me that William is the same as Khorynn?” David was caught off-guard by this bit of information. Brian tried to change the subject, cracking jokes. “Yup breasts and all, doctors these days can hide anything.” David was not amused.
“William is your son,” Dyaina spoke, her voice heavy and tired. “He hasn’t made his choice yet.” She paused. “I must rest, I still can’t move my arms or legs.”
“That will pass,” Brian said smiling weakly. “It’s your brain, it’s still trying to find the
reconstructed pathways of your energy that William rebuilt. It just needs to find them again, that’s all.” Dyaina was quickly falling asleep.
“Stubborn, stubborn boy.” Her heart swelled with pride. “I am proud of you William, angry but proud. Come back to us.” William continued to breathe shallow and hoarse.
17
It moved effortlessly amongst the shadows, moving swiftly. Its target had been so bright, so easy to track at first. Now it was a glimmer. It had to filter through the stronger essences nearby to stay on the right path. It felt powerful energies converging around New York. Energy levels of all varieties and strengths had been drawn there by the very thing it needed to destroy. It felt compelled, seduced by the voice emanating from its blood ruby pendant. “Kill it, kill the Archmage. Must…Before it destroys you first.” The shadows trailing behind the shade shredded and devoured the life from the countryside as it hurled itself forward killing the ground it passed over. It prepared for the battle it foresaw.
“Need…Destroy.” The voices echoed from within the shadows. The shade stopped dead in its tracks and slowly emerged from the depth of its shadows. Blackness dripped from its body, only to be reabsorbed by the shadows it landed on. It raised its head to sniff the air. It felt a tremendous power flare up, and it begged the shade to be consumed, to give in to the delicious urge to rip the essence from its body and use it to grow stronger.
“Destroy the master!” The voice from the pendant was stronger this time, angered at the diversion from the path. The energy of the distant shaman voided all thought. It hadn’t truly fed in centuries, and while it had consumed the remaining assassins in its charge, they were only delectable morsels compared to the feast that now beckoned it. The shade slowly sank back into the shadows, its pendant glowing a furious red. The multi-voiced shadows echoed the need to feed as they spread wide behind the figure. The shadows lurched forward screaming as it headed to the pulsing power source just outside of New York.
Elemental Courage Page 6