by Rhys Thomas
“What the… I don’t remember seeing this when I picked them up. They were cleanest and most intact I could find.”
“Yeah, I’m sure your dirty and unclean clothing is just ripe with mysteries,” she said sarcastically, “and something else,” she added with a sneezing grimace.
Turns out Ariana has a sewing kit hidden in the lining of her pack, kept mainly to repair clothing and for suturing wounds.
She sat on the chair next to the make-up table, her tongue slightly peaking between her lips in concentration. I smiled at the sight as she worked on repairing my clothing. The room became dimmer as the light bleeding through the gap in the curtains at the window sunk away.
An itch started in my lower back on the left side, on the same side my shoulder grew stiff and achy. Another sensation like a knot from a stitch grew along the right of my stomach as it began to cramp.
Suddenly, a scream tore through the air as I collapsed forward onto the floor banging my head with a loud thump. The scream became an insensible whimper and I realised with a fright, that it was me making those noises.
The dull itch in my back split open like a chef gutting a fish. I felt the muscles tear and slice open as the pain slashed deeply in a diagonal line across reaching my opposite shoulder.
My right foot crunched and curled, my toes becoming gnarled as if with arthritis. My left shoulder slumped like it had been impacted by a heavy blow. The right side of my chest that was cramping, lit up in fiery pain.
My vision swam and I couldn’t take it any longer, I blacked in and out of consciousness. I had vague thoughts, like were we under attack. Had Ariana been hurt. Where was Marisa, or if this was because of the guard captain Jessel.
I vaguely, distantly, felt something like cloth being stuffed into my mouth to muffle my shrieking cry. It was all too much, too sudden the pain so damn fucking unbearable that I’d either vomited or piss myself.
I wasn’t sure; but between gouts of pain, I felt wet and sticky. Drowned in the confusion. my mind clocked out and a series of revelations battered at my psyche. My right foot splintering the wooden door and shattering it into pieces as I entered the Brood-mothers den.
The big man swiping his meat cleaver down my back, slicing diagonally down nicking bone and curving out wards as I spun away.
The digging fork catching and scraping along my right side, a flash of searing heat shooting through me.
Crossing my swords to withhold the war hammers momentum, and only slightly catching the shaft too late as it impacted dully against my shoulder just narrowly missing Marisa head.
I drew away. Delved myself deep into my subconscious mind and sort out my dimensional plane. I’d learned long ago to compartmentalise my consciousness in moments of intense pain. I rarely used it these days, to the point I’d almost forgotten, but it was instinctual now.
Suffering two years of almost constant abuse does a lot to the psyche of a child. And with the usage and control of the dimensional plane, I’d learn to shut away my pain there. To house it in temporary vessels, like blank action figures.
Subconsciously forming a ghostly ephemeral black glass vessel within the dark plane of the dimension. I rushed to funnel and push all feelings and responses I could within. I felt the vessel tightened and its innards expand as my pain worsened.
Cracks formed in the chink of the vessel and I tried to seal them as I belatedly noted that I had stopped screaming now.
My eyes instantly snapped open, unclenching as the pain instantly fainted for but a moment. A moment was all I needed.
My cold, calm gaze set on the reflection Ariana Jessem in the mirror as she concentrated on my back, as she sutured the wounds there. My right hand worked thankfully; I removed the muzzle binding my mouth shut. It came away bloody and I knew I’d bitten my tongue.
“Aria,” my voice flat, distant, a whisper.
She flinched at my voice; I saw now that I was sat on the chair, she had previously occupied while sewing my clothes.
“Al-Alaric, you’re okay?” Her voice bled disbelieve like my wounds did my life’s-blood, she sniffled slightly and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“No, far from it, several muscles within my back have been severed, thankfully only the bone has been nicked on my spine and no nerves seemed to have been damaged.” I took a measured breath, “my left shoulder has been dislocated and the collar bone has a minor fracture. You will need to unbreak my right foot and toes. The right side of my chest has an inch-deep gash.”
I heard Aria’s breath hitch as I explained my numerous wounds. I could already feel the vessel crumbling in my dark plane. I also knew that the Valakhari scout couldn’t repair all or any of the injury I held. “Okay,” she mumbled sniffling, “what should I do first?” But I was already passing out again.
Chapter Eight
I blinked groggily awake and stared up at the wooden rafters crossing the ceiling of our room at the inn. My eyes found the task of staying open to be too straining, so I closed them and just focused on my breathing.
Each breath came hot and dry in my throat.
I gave a rough swallow, which hurt- a lot, and I had the vaguest recollection that I had been screaming.
I made an unintelligible groan of thirst and eventually I got fed up of my weak-willed self and moved to sit up. Which is when I noticed that I was covered in bandages.
My entire left arm was wrapped tightly in gauzy white cloth and were wound within the bandages covering my torso sealing them together.
I pushed up even further so that I sat fully and winced at the expected pain but felt nothing. In fact, all I felt was just heavy and dead-limbed. My back popped with the movement and my bad shoulder ached with a raw stiffness.
Once positioned with my back against the headboard of the bed I looked around and saw that I was alone. From a cautionary glance around I noted that Ariana gear was still within the room though her axe was missing, on her person presumably.
I also noted my complete nakedness beneath the covers, sweat trickled down my brow and I wiped it away. The candle on the shelf of the opposite wall from me hadn’t been lit yet, so I couldn’t tell the time. And I started to worry about a repeat of yesterday morning.
My first day in Viria had been an eventful one at that and I was thankful for the company I had made, even if said company was an overgrown scaled chicken that equalled to my wife and a tattoo manipulator that double as a scout and assassin.
I was still totally unsure if I would help Ariana, it seemed to me that her people were a politically fractious lot and those that the scout work’s for only wanted a pawn of their own in the game.
Heat rose up within me, deep within my core and I had to clench my eyes shut and focus on my breathing, drowning in the gratifying rhythm that came with breathing in and out.
Plus; it felt as if I was on the verge of a panic attack. So, breathing no matter how forcibly I pushed it, it kept coming and kept informing me that I was alive.
Breaking my concentration for an instance I send out a mental call to Marisa.
*Marisa?* I sent called out through our bond.
*Yes, Al I am here,* She immediately replied. *I’m so happy to hear your voice again my love. I’m so sorry—I should’ve explained all this better. That your body is still acclimating to your condition, strengths and weaknesses. I promise love, that that’ll be only the night you’ll experience such an immense bout of weakness. I-* she went to carry on, but I interrupted her with a mental wave.
*Marisa?*
*Yes Love,* She answered warily.
*Shut up.* She sighed loudly in my head, her annoyance a gentle comfort to me now. *Anyway, I called you because I’m on the verge of toasty and well, I need someone to hoover up the human BBQ.*
She gave me a thoughtful, mental nod. *I’ll inform the Faen. We’re downstairs collecting some food and before you ask,* She said cutting off my terse reply. *Catherine Horrigan knows about me; but has promised to hold my appearance a se
cret. We’ll be back up shortly so hold tight love.*
I sighed heavily as what felt like gradual heartburn gorged through my chest. I hissed at the dull ache and squeezed my eyes shut and took deep dry breaths of annoyance.
I wondered for a few seconds if I looked to be doing the same breathing exercises pregnant women do during labour.
The fact that thought paused long enough to compute, made me chuckle and briefly break my concentration. A few moments later I heard the bounding of Ariana’s thickly heeled boots and the flighty hopping skips of Marisa that sounded more like an excited dog than a draconic phoenix.
The door burst open and I cracked open an eye to see Aria and Marisa stride through.
Marisa immediately popped up onto the bed and walked over to sit in my lap, staring at me intently. *We’re here now,* she thought to me, but she sounded odd, louder and her voice seem more broadly focused. Something to mention later, I thought.
I drew myself inwards. Delving within my core.
*Yes, focus on the build-up of power within your body,* and I did so for what felt like 10 minutes but was in fact maybe 40 seconds. *Now fold the power to your will and nurture it like you would a dying flame. Give it direction and fuel, give it shape and purpose,* she said, sounding like the vaguest of Kungfu movie mentors.
*When do I get to punch- uh, droplets of water?* I sent, managing a reply back.
I went to work directing the flows of power down to the active runes on my arms and up to those behind the shell of my ears. Direction. Now, what does she mean by fuel? I thought frowning with concentration.
Through my mental examination, I scanned through and along my runes. I noted in a distant sort of way, the other runes scribed throughout my body. I couldn’t reach, nor interact with them. So, I focused back in on my active runes.
In the delving, I could see the active runes as if they were sources of iridescent jade light. There were multiple layers, the runes on the surface of my skin actually went bone deep. That along with the light jade green glow, reminded me eerily of a Lich.
My active runes I realised, had a gaged limit.
Imagine an energy meter, the energy you store builds higher towards a certain manageable and safe limit. Well it was the same with each of the runes, except I could see no way to cap off the runes once the power was stored within them.
I needed a plug, otherwise the stored power would either release back into my body or would instead be expended. Example being; the flaming hands I had yesterday morning.
So, without control I wouldn’t be able to summon, shape or dispel the flames at will. Without a way to permanently store the daily allotment of power, I would either be accidentally shooting my load prematurely, or suffering through the weird sweat-tent scenario.
Direction is easy, I thought, and had a flash of memory. How had I managed for the briefest of moments to will the fire beneath the cooking pot to form into hands.
It had been just been an idle thought at the time. Or, maybe it has to do with intent. To project my will so strongly that it could affect and manifest in my surroundings.
Does that mean then, that will is the fuel? I thought questioningly with a shrug and decided to give it a try.
Pouring and delving my sight inwards I directed the flow of power to my runes once again.
This time instead of pushing them out through my runes, I willed the power to flow into and capsulate each rune. Intently projecting what I wanted till the limit gages of each were equally spread.
Then I simply willed them shut, to close off and store the gathered power and for a few peaceful moments I thought I had succeeded. Then I thought of the chaotic/creative nature of fire, it’s ever-changing state and form which then led my mind to flames arms, and like Johnny-fucking-Storm I alight like a flaming cactus.
My will became pliant and my control slipped along with it. Heat rushed out through my arms and I cringed as the initial outburst of power ripple through my runes and skin like liquid warmth.
Then the runes thrummed to life, their viridescent jade glow shone as the fire outpoured through them.
Singeing through the bandages wrapped around my chest and my arm snapping free of the binding cloth as the blazing fragments fell to smother on the floor.
My eyes glazed open and the sharpness of my surroundings intensified everything, giving my vision a crisper focus as the runes behind the shell of my ears hummed in activation.
Thankfully they didn’t alight like my arms did.
No, these runes heightened all of my senses, making them astoundingly sharper.
The fire simply engulfed my hands and I moved my fingers and watched as the flames rolled with the movement. If I could described it, I would say it looked as if I was going Super Saiyan, though just on my arms.
Like a heated fiery aura, the power followed my movements as I brought my arms back in and towards the dragonling sat patiently on my lap.
As my hands near her, Marisa sucked in a long breath and her chest expanded with the intake, the fire left me as It was absorbed into the eager and waiting mouth of my soul-bound partner. But this time, I could feel a reluctance, the last embers of the flame clinging to me.
Once it was over Marisa burped loudly and I breathed a sigh of relief.
Ariana shakily moved over to a chair and sat, slumping onto it with a shaky breath. I smiled scratching Marisa atop her head and looked to the Valakhari scout. “So, what do you think?” I asked quirking an eyebrow at her.
She blinked several times looking at and then through me; to her thoughts. “It was tremendously terrible, if this is something you can learn to control then…” She trailed off.
I could see how this power could be a terrible thing, burning people alive wasn’t exactly on my to do list right now though.
“Thanks,” I gushed with a light chuckle at how shell-shocked she looked, she then reached over and placed a finger on the skin of my arm.
“It’s warm, not hot as I expected it to be.” She then traced over to the runes on my forearms running vertical down my arm.
“The runes… They’re cold, but how? I mean—I saw the flames burst from them.”
I nodded at her words, feeling their coolness through my skin myself, it actually relieved me slightly to see my arms were un-burnt and the runes cooling back to their prior empty state.
“I know what you mean,” I sighed exasperated. “It hard enough trying to figure it out and it’ll be sometime till I’ve even a modicum of control over it. But I think my close...” She nodded at my words, as Marisa crawled up my shoulder, snaked her tail around my throat and proceeded to lick my face. Her tongue was actually a light grey in colour and rough like a cat’s.
I turned my full focus to Ariana, “so, has there been any developments? I know this one managed somehow to reveal herself to the Innkeeper,” I said flicking a finger into Marisa side. Ariana squirmed for a second looking decidedly uncomfortable.
*Faen, tell him, he’ll understand.*
Just like before her voice resounded a bit louder through my mind and from the look of recognition, I saw that Ariana had heard her as well. *Wow, you can communicate with others now. That’s amazing* I thought to the cooing dragonling as she hummed in delight at my attention.
Ariana sighed deeply; as a guilty look flashed across her beautiful features. “Actually, it was because of me that the innkeeper Catherine found out about Marisa,” I was silent for a moment when I caught on to what she had said at the end.
“What do you mean, it was because of you?” I asked slowly, and she winced slightly. I yelped and clapped a hand to my ear after Marisa bit into it roughly, as her tail tightened its hold on my neck. I gasped painfully, struggling slightly and quickly hook a finger through her tail and pulled her loose.
“What the fuck, Marisa?” I exclaimed with a gasp as she bounced over to Ariana and hopped onto the scouts lap on the chair.
*Don’t give me that shit,* She said loudly in my head and I winced at the
biting tone of her words.
“What shit are you even talking about?” I asked aloud and suddenly realised we might be having our first spat as a couple.
*You were dying, and we needed help. I was an idiot,* she said suddenly sounding both terrified and angry. *I was so excited to be free again and to fly, that I forgot to tell you about how the weakness properly works. I should’ve stayed by your side… I can’t lose you again and I almost-* she stopped herself and I saw tears leak from the corner of her draconic eyes.
Ariana having heard as well unexpectedly hugged the draconic phoenix to her chest comforting her.
“Chick, Marisa what’re you even talking about? I’m fine” I told her.
Sniffling, Marisa replied, *you accumulated those wounds fighting the men outside the farm house but they healed so fast you barely noticed them. The power being drawn to you allows for greater recovery during the day as you almost constantly have ambient energy running through you.
*At night though it’s a different matter. The first night is especially the hardest. You become weaker and your body’s weakness dismantles the repairs done to you during the day.*
“Wait. So that’ll happen every night from now on? I get injured during the day recover really fast and then it’ll suddenly reverse come night?” I asked confused and irritated, rubbed my forehead when she nodded.
*Not as badly, but It’ll keep happening till you learn to control your daily power allotment. You’ll need to learn to store ambient power quickly. This should negate the majority of the weakness you would inevitably feel, as you’ll have stored reserves.* She paused for a mental breath and then continued. *During the night the ambient power will be lower, and you’ll not be able to harness it till you’re much stronger. Unless you eventually master drawing from a physical external source, such as a candles flame,* she said glancing towards the now lit candle. I didn’t even remember having seen anyone light it.
*This rule will be the same for the other elements as well, right now your gage is at 3% As the gage rises so will the affinities; you’ll have access to,* She added.