by Ross Turner
Cole and Rose however, had risen at exactly sunrise, and had left the sanctuary silently; emerging into the fresh dawn air beneath a clear, chill sky, they took in the land all around in the cold morning sunlight, using their eyes this time, rather than Cole’s awareness. Though, strangely, it seemed that even with the light of day to aid them, they could still not see as much as they had done the night before.
Riding around part of the lake to the south, Cole had a bizarre feeling that there was still something else he had to do before they left Still Waters, and so, it seemed, this was his only opportunity to find out what it was.
He scanned the surface of the strangely tranquil water, with his mind now rather than with his eyes, and felt a slimy hand grasp his own. Looking down with a gasp he flexed his fingers and, as he dispelled his focus, the feeling dissipated. He thought pensively for a moment and, though the strange feeling intrigued him, he urged Rose to move on, deciding that this was not what he was looking for.
Circling all the way back around the lake and towards the sanctuary, Rose halted before the great wooden doors and glanced around in every direction. Cole was growing frustrated by this point, and scanned the area with his mind yet again. This time however, instead of glancing across the unmoving mirror, without a hint of change, he found something. He focused more closely, perhaps having found what he was searching for.
Why he was drawn to that particular stone, he did not know, but instinctively he knew this was what he wanted: a simple pebble.
Cole had gleaned the knowledge of what had happened here, and had heard his parents speak of it, even if only a few times, but he still needed to see it. He had glimpsed only a dull recollection from Pike’s memories, faded, altered and distorted by the effects of time and the sorry condition of human fault and age.
Casting his will out towards the stone, the strange sight, somewhat familiar to Cole from Pike’s memory, began to overwhelm him once more, only this time it was much more vivid. He clung tightly to Rose as their minds searched together as one, grasping with their awareness the pebble, and discovering from it it’s hidden secrets.
Almost in an instant, Cole learned everything he needed to know. He learned of the pebble’s past, understanding the many long years it had simply laid dormant on the doorstep of the sanctuary - waiting.
Then he saw the demon, the blurry image he had found haunting Pike’s thoughts, sharpened to perfection as if it were stood before him even then. The memory was crystal clear, for the pebble had not faded and withered over time in the pathetic and weak way that humans do.
Cole recollected the memory of the enormous beast, a memory that was truly not even his own, that had stood in the doorway of the sanctuary almost two decades ago. It had placed its hulking mass upon this very pebble, all that time ago, and somehow still even now, that event had been imprinted on everything it had touched - not just simply within the fragile minds of humans.
The powerful young adolescent boy was somehow seeing his world from an entirely different perspective, and it gave him everything he needed. Past, present, perhaps even future. He was not entirely sure, at this point, how far his awareness could go.
What was this power he kept exploring? How in the world was it showing him these incredible things? Who could possibly help him hone it, if he did not even know what it was?
Not even sure whether it was dangerous or not, Cole looked to Rose, who of course understood his worries, and they decided, for some unknown reason, that this was something they had to face alone. There would be no help or training for this strange awareness that they both shared, for indeed there was nobody that could assist them.
Then Cole’s breath caught as he looked around and saw three boys stood on the lake, and yet more memories began to play out for him. He saw demons streaming from the perfect water. He saw his mother drowning in the icy river. He saw his home in flames and ruin, demons running riot, murdering everybody they could find.
Only just catching a shout on his tongue, Cole withdrew, knowing he had gone too far, but he managed to just grab it, to stop it just before he lost control.
His vision snapped back to the reality of the physical realm and, in his moment of loss of control, the pebble upon which he had first directed his will had burst into searing flames, burning to ash in a matter of seconds.
He stared in utter disbelief at what he had just done, dumbfounded.
This was not demonic, and it was not the strange awareness he had been exploring with his heightened senses. This was yet again something else.
This was elemental; a third potential - his father’s potential.
20
As Cole and Rose waited in the glory of the crimson dawn for his parents to wake, Cole began to talk himself round in circles, as doubt once again flooded through him.
He had to speak to his father. Without proper guidance in his newly found ability, there was no telling what damage he might do. The notion was all too real, as he recalled the memory he had seen of Kalaris burning to the ground, Cole shivered violently. And then yet again he cursed himself for unleashing Thorn upon the kingdom. But at the same time, he did not entirely regret his mistakes, for that selfsame event had also brought him Rose.
But he knew that this newfound ability, as incredible as it might be, could be just as destructive, if not more so, than all of Thorn’s might. He had to learn to control it, save putting everyone near him in perilous danger.
Cole was beginning to fear his own power. All his life he had always dreamed of discovering his potential, having never quite lived up to his parents’ names. But now it seemed he would have been better off without it, for all the danger that had now been created, and all of the bloodshed that was surely to come, would have been averted, had it not been for his foolishness.
Rose nudged him gently with the tip of her snout and Cole rubbed her chin absently. She cast him a look of sympathy, knowing his thoughts and doubts, though not berating him even once for his folly.
‘You know I’ll do anything I can to help.’ Rose’s soft voice sounded effortlessly through Cole’s thoughts. He nodded in reply and continued rubbing her affectionately behind her ears. Rose shuddered with childish delight. Together they vowed to vanquish this threat, both demonic and undead, once and for all, whatever the cost.
“What happened Cole?” Zanriath asked gently, crouching some time later at his son’s side, sensing quite clearly that something had changed. Cole sighed as he sat with his Rose facing the perfect water of the lake.
His parents had awoken to find him already outside, waiting for them, pensively looking out over the perfect mirror that was the lake at Still Waters.
“I set a rock on fire.” He said simply, having already decided not to dance around the subject. “It burned to ash.”
“Can you show me?” His father asked, surprised, pleased, and concerned all at once.
Cole nodded and climbed to his feet. A brisk wind caught him as he did so and the cold morning air streamed with golden rays of sunlight from the east. The morning was clear and crisp and Cole moved someway away from the Still Waters sanctuary, a little afraid he might lose control. Zanriath and Isabel, and even Pike, his curiosity wetted, followed.
“What shall I do?” Cole asked his father apprehensively.
“Just choose something small.” Zanriath said reassuringly. “Why not a pebble again?” Cole nodded and looked around. There were a few strewn amongst the lush grass closest to the shore of the lake, and he focused on one. Rose was at his side, as always, and after a few moments Cole collected his thoughts and directed this new and bizarre power at the rock.
At first nothing happened. Cole had not instilled much strength into the attempt, in his unease, and a tiny flickering light appeared atop the small stone, as if a match were set atop it.
“Cole?” Zanriath asked. “Is everything alright?”
“I don’t know how much power will be too much.” Cole admitted as the match-sized spark flickered a
nd faded and extinguished. “I don’t want things to go wrong…”
“Don’t worry.” His father replied walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m here in case anything happens.”
“Ok.” Cole replied with at least a little more confidence. “Let me try again.” Zanriath smiled and nodded, but did not return to where he had stood before. He only dropped his hand from Cole’s shoulder to allow him to concentrate, and gathered his own will in preparation, just in case.
Cole targeted the same stone and this time easily set it alight, intensifying the heat and burning it to smouldering ashes in once again a matter of seconds.
“Very nice.” Zanriath complimented him. “Good control. Try something a little bigger.” Cole looked around and laid eyes upon the lake, and the rocks directly at its edge. If he lost control the water would not let the fire spread, he thought to himself. He continued with renewed vigour.
Choosing six or seven stones, one at a time, at the water’s edge, finding the task more challenging the further away the stone were from him, Cole focused.
Isabel and Pike looked on with fascination as they watched Cole experimenting, and Zanriath providing a safety blanket in case anything went wrong.
Once Cole had settled on his targets, he set to work. Still with pinpoint efficiency, each individual stone set alight and burned for several seconds before being reduced totally to ash, and then he immediately moved on to the next, disintegrating all of them in quick succession.
“Ok Cole.” Zanriath said purposefully, more than satisfied with his son’s rapid progress. “Try again, but this time, whatever you decide to set alight, don’t burn it.”
“Don’t burn it?” Cole asked confused.
“Yes.” Zanriath confirmed. “Choose a target, use a stone again for simplicity, but don’t use that object as the flames’ fuel. Use something else to fuel it.” He held up his hand and it burst alight in demonstration. The flames licked around his fingers, but Zanriath was not burned. “I am fuelling the fire with my will.” He explained. “I am simply using my hand to direct it.” Cole nodded and understood.
After a few more attempts Cole was setting more and more objects alight simultaneously, and burning none of them, instead using his will to fuel the burning flames. He found the exercise quite taxing, as his strength was directly depleted as a result of feeding the fires, and he was soon building up a sweat, even in the cold air of the early day. With each new attempt Cole had to focus further and direct more force into his target, compensating for his deepening fatigue.
His father assured him that the heavy drain he felt on his strength was not only unavoidable in the early days of training, but probably even a good thing, as he would be less likely to lose control of his power if he had already depleted large quantities of it.
Cole continued to practice for another half an hour or so, continually increasing the range and complexity of the tasks he undertook.
Then he looked to the water of the lake itself and, with a challenge in mind, set his will to the task. Flames coursed out across the perfectly still water in four or five different direction, twisting and turning across the liquid mirror as Cole fed them with his will.
His strength drained quickly as the water tried desperately to quell the flames, but he fed the fires more and more energy to compensate. After only a few minutes, unaccustomed to the workload, Cole was wobbling slightly on his feet and Rose was forced to steady him. His breathing was heavy and sweat poured from him.
By now his strength was waning quite desperately, and Cole made one final attempt to keep the flames alive.
That was his mistake.
In his wearied state, Cole failed to control exactly how much of his will, as he had been doing all along so far, he directed into his final attempt. And as a result, it slipped from his grasp. He lost control, and his remaining excess will escaped him.
Without warning, the neat, flickering lines darting across the perfect surface of the lake roared into life and the entire lake became a flaming pit of intense heat, the fires reaching up to ten feet high.
Isabel and Pike withdrew back from the scalding flames as great clouds of boiling steam engulfed them. Zanriath, unable to control the carnage of Cole’s released will, extracted the heat from the steam as best he could, in order to save them all from burning to death, and dragged Cole desperately back from his little experiment.
After a few more moments, as Cole’s will dissipated, the flames died, succumbing to the water and vanishing, though the lake was left somewhat reduced, even after only the few moments that the fires had been fully alive.
Cole stared on incredulously for a second, processing exactly what he had done, before he blacked out, succumbing to his fatigue and falling heavily to the floor.
Zanriath carried his exhausted son back into the shelter of Still Waters, breathing quite heavily, even from his brief few seconds of work, his battle to fight Cole’s uncontrolled will having drained his strength considerably. He had finally experienced exactly what Isabel had felt during Cole’s awakening, only on a greatly reduced scale.
He considered the event to have been a lucky escape. Had that have happened at the beginning of the practice, he would have likely been unable to resist the enormity of Cole’s strength, and Isabel and Pike would probably have perished. He decided, wisely, not to reveal that particular piece of information to his wife and friend, and instead moved quickly on.
Isabel and Pike followed Zanriath inside and closed the door firmly behind them. They set Cole down on a soft, feathered bed and Rose lay protectively at the unconscious boy’s side.
“He’ll need to rest for a while.” Zanriath told them, his voice heavy and his relief obvious.
“Is he ok?” Isabel asked concerned, not oblivious to the danger she had just been in, though underestimating its scale somewhat. Zanriath carefully continued to keep the exact extent of her near death to himself.
“He lost control.” Zanriath explained. “Exactly the same as with his demonic power.” Isabel nodded, understanding that her son was fine, just exhausted.
“What is going on?” Pike asked, bewildered, he too, thankfully, was comforted by Zanriath façade.
“Cole discovered his demonic potential barely a week ago.” Zanriath explained. “But he has been struggling to control it. It seems that now he has discovered his elemental potential also, and is struggling to control that too.”
“Did you struggle so when you discovered your potential?” Pike asked of both Isabel and Zanriath.
“I struggled.” Zanriath replied honestly, and Isabel nodded in agreement, remembering her own hardships. “But Cole’s power is so vast that he doesn’t just struggle to control it, he struggles to contain it - it overwhelms him.”
“His power is too much for him to handle, especially when it escapes all in one go like just then.” Isabel said somewhat solemnly. “And it seems it’s growing more rapidly than Cole can keep up with.” And then Pike asked the question that had, quite simply, for some reason, not yet come to the forefront of Isabel’s mind, or at least, she had not stopped to consider it in any great depth.
“Why?” He said puzzled. Isabel looked at him questioningly.
“Why what?” She asked.
“Why is his power so great? Why is it growing so quickly?” Isabel looked at Zanriath, and he returned her blank gaze, but they had no answer for their friend.
“We don’t know.” Zanriath admitted.
“I hope we find out soon though.” Isabel added, but before she could continue a voice sounded in her mind, clear as day. By the look on his face, it was clear that Zanriath heard it too, and somehow instinctively Isabel knew that Cole, even in his unconscious state, was also hearing Ormath’s words.
‘My children.’ Ormath spoke, His voice resonating through their thoughts. ‘Much has happened, but time is growing ever shorter.’
‘What’s going on Ormath?’ Zanriath asked, almost pleaded even.
> ‘You must guide Cole. Help him to learn control.’ Ormath explained. ‘And you too Isabella, for without both of your guidance, Cole will surely be lost to the enormous power he has been given.’
‘Can you help him?’ Isabel pleaded to the oldest of the Gods. ‘I don’t want him to lose himself to his power.’
‘Fear not Isabella.’ Ormath comforted her. ‘He shall not lose his way if you both guide him through this difficult time. You will not need me to intervene. But you must also hurry. Make haste to Vak’Istor, and spread the word of Thorn’s threat. There is precious little time.’
Isabel and Zanriath both acknowledged their God’s wishes and Ormath’s voice faded away into the remnants of their thoughts. They relayed the information they had been given to Pike, and began to set their plans in motion immediately.
When Cole awoke they would have to leave for Vak’Istor without delay, but they would also have to continue his training, for neither task could be delayed.
The going would be difficult, of that they were certain, but they had no choice. Cole had to learn to control his abilities, or at the very least contain them. Hopefully the fatigue from such rigorous training would keep him drained enough to maintain a handle on the rapid increases in his power, and hopefully soon he would be strong enough to control the entirety of it himself. Based on his improvement thus far, they would just have to see.
Before too long Cole was stirring, and his strength was returning quickly. He was young and would recover swiftly, but Isabel could only keep asking, where was his relentless strength coming from? Would it ever end?
Quite possibly not.
Hopefully they would find out the extent of Cole’s will, his limits, before it was too late. Hopefully they would discover its purpose.
