by M. M. Reid
“Very well,” he retorted and his head disappeared behind the rock face above.
“Hey! No, I was just kidding. Come on!” My sweaty hands began to give way.
“Throw yourself up onto the ledge,” came my father’s voice from above, as if the solution to my predicament was simple.
I actually managed to scoff through my wheezing breath. “Are you joking? I can barely hold on.”
“Concentrate,” was the response, as his head peered back down at me.
“Concentrate?” I glared up at the crazed man, sweat stinging my eyes. Was he serious? I struggled to hoist myself up as the rock slowly began to slip from my fingers. His face never changed, looking impassive as always.
Embracing his advice, I closed my eyes and let my mind go into deep concentration. Letting my surroundings go, allowed my breathing to slow and become as steady as it could through the fatigue. The warmth spread from my belly as power flowed around my limbs. I felt the hurt of muscle pain fading away like a candle flame with no more oxygen to consume.
“Now!” said his voice, and I threw all my strength upward. My feet landed on rock, slipping, teetering backwards in a moment of absolute terror, as I lost my balance. I cried out, but an iron-like grasp from a strong hand held me steady before I could plunge into the chasm. I collapsed onto the ground a few metres away from the edge.
“Wow, that’s…incredible,” I said in between gulped breaths, watching the blue sky above in one of my only breaks of the day. “What else can you do with this Vitae?”
A wave of water from my father’s skin pouch struck my face.
I sputtered, as I sat up suddenly. “What the hell was that for?”
“You’ll learn only what I teach you.” My father’s eyes were narrowed and dangerous.
I blinked at the sudden outbreak of anger. “What do you mean?”
My father waved his hand as he liked to do when he didn’t wish to discuss anything further, and then went back to placing our belongings into his satchel. “Vitae can be used to amplify any task that you wish to take on. Think of it as a muscle—the more it is trained, the stronger it will become. Thus, the more techniques you learn to apply, the easier it will become to use them. It will not be long before you do not even have to concentrate, your body will instinctively undertake the task for you.”
“Like, what kind of tasks?”
“For instance, healing faster, increasing your strength and speed…” he trailed off, pausing for a moment, and then hastily finished gathering our supplies and threw them over his shoulder.
“Is there anything else?” I called after him as he briskly walked into the forest.
I sighed heavily as no response came.
The following few hours were unremarkable. As usual during our midday break, we peeled bark off of nearby tree in order to suture together our ramshackle cabin. My father was abnormally silent, his actions jerky and deliberately harsh, as he cracked and whipped the bark about like it had wronged him in some earlier life. Normally, I would have been content to keep to myself as stirring the figurative hornet’s nest usually ended in a lesson of extreme exhaustion. It could have been my teenage angst or maybe the endless questions with no real answers, but that day I needed to do something more than just train outside or fix this shabby cabin. I wanted to see the real world. The world where all the stories my father told me came from.
We had just finished our daily chores and were making our way through a field just beyond the ravine where I had been trapped. My father lead as he usually did, one hand firmly upon the hilt of Balmung, with the other over his eyes like he were trying to spot land in an endless sea. I suppose this was as good a time as ever, I thought, as I froze in my tracks. I was hoping that I could envoke some sort of emotions in my father, like the ones I saw when he told me there was “always hope.”
“Those who linger are left behind,” my father said sharply, still following his internal compass.
“Then you’re going to be one lonely old man,” I said, holding true to my stance.
That stopped him dead in his tracks. This would mark the first time I would directly confront my father after what happened a year ago.
We stood there, staring each other down, and though my heart was beating like a drum in my chest, I was determined to do this. After all, we couldn’t stay here forever.
“I think its time we go,” I said vaguely, hoping this would stir his guilty conscience.
My father’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t respond, waiting impatiently for my next question.
“Let’s go!” I said again, gesturing to the horizon.
“Go where?” he spat back, taking a deliberate and threatening step forward. This would usually be where I would shrink and look at my feet until the conversation was forgotten. But I couldn’t today.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said in a sarcastic tone. “Maybe the world you always told me about?”
The muscles in my father’s jaw clenched tightly. “Do you not remember you swore to me that you would obey my every order? Follow exactly what I told you to do?” He paused as he glared at me. “We will go when you are ready.”
“When will that be?”
My father shrugged and turned to go start walking again. “At the rate you’re going, probably never!” he called back to me.
“Is this what Mother would have wanted?” I said, my voice halting his steps. “To keep me here for the rest of my life?”
My father spun around. This time there was no condescending scoff, no immediate dismissal. Instead, he unsheathed Balmung and tossed the blade at my feet. “You want to leave this forest?” he said. “Strike me down then.”
I blinked, taking a step back in surprise. “No. Are you insane?”
“What’s wrong, Augrais?” My father sauntered towards me. “Afraid? Unwilling to do what is necessary for your freedom?”
There was an unusual edge in his voice, like he was reading dialogue from a sinister book in his head.
“B-but I can’t,” I said, the stammering destroying my image of maturity. I took a few steps back in natural defence as my father approached.
“Do you think your murderer will care if you can’t defend yourself, Augrais?” Father asked as his foot kicked Balmung back into his hand. “Do you think they will show you mercy?”
Before I could respond, a sharp pain erupted just under my left collarbone. Balmung returned to its starting position as my slow brain finally caught up to what had just happened. My leather shirt was torn, a blood stain growing like a blooming flower. He had cut me with his sword. Was this really happening? Was I dreaming? I just stared at my blood, stupefied.
“Pay attention, Augrais,” my father hissed.
I snapped my head up only to be harshly kicked backwards like a ball, the soft grass my only saving grace. As I slid to a halt, my chest felt like it had been crumpled inward. I struggled to inhale. The world spun, the blurred image of my father coming in and out of focus.
Concentrate, Augrais. You can win this yet, came a voice unnervingly close to my ear. It was an unfamiliar male voice, old and wise. I glanced over my shoulder and there was no one around. Had I been hit that hard?
I can’t, I thought. He’s too strong.
This is your story, Augrais. The voice refocused me. Remember the Fire in your belly when you were beneath the tree? Fan it, allow your rage to cover your body like a cloak of heat.
Like I had many times before, I attempted to recreate that moment of power.
Don’t try to find it, the voice chided. Know it. See it. Own it. Become the Fire within.
Like boiling water, something within me began to bubble to the surface. The power suddenly began to seep from every muscle, every pore, every cell. I stood, envisioning the flames within me, feeling them flicker and grow, igniting my skin as if it were dry wood. My father was almost within his sword’s striking distance and this voice, whether it was a figment of my imagination or someone helping me, was coaching
me the entire time.
Wait… The voice calmed me like I was a frightened horse. Wait for him to swing.
The Fire was now swirling about me and, though invisible to the naked eye, I could feel its power supporting and bolstering my flowing Vitae, making me stronger and faster than I ever had been.
“I’m glad you’re finally taking this seriously,” my father said. “You will learn first-hand how dangerous the outside world can be.”
The blade was free and before I even knew what was happening, I had ducked under it. Then, fueling my legs with Vitae, I threw my shoulder forward, hitting my father square in the chest. He tumbled backward, spinning around as I had just a moment before.
Unleash your Earth now! came the voice again, excitement filling every syllable.
My father was already back on his feet, Balmung lost amongst the tall grass. He looked absolutely livid with my newfound strength.
How? I thought back.
Place your feet firmly against the ground and allow it to calm your mind. Feel, not see, what he will do next.
Instinctively my eyes closed. My feet felt like roots had spread from my toes into the ground. Then a strange sensation overtook me, like my vision was widening even although I was not using my eyes. I shifted and a small gust of wind breezed by my face. My hand shot out like a striking serpent, catching flesh beneath my fingers. This instinct and I didn’t converse, we didn’t need to strategize. We simply knew what was going to happen next, knew where to be and what to do to avoid harm.
I opened my eyes just as my body ducked under my father’s haymaker, spun about quickly and struck him hard in the chest with my fiery open palm. This time I followed his retreating body, unleashing as many punches and kicks as I could possibly could. But my father was well trained, able to evade or block most of them. He gripped the nape of my neck with one hand and pulled me into his striking elbow. My fist simultaneously knocked him across the chin, sending us both stumbling backwards, dazed. As we glared at one another, something glimmered a few metres away and caught both of our eyes. Balmung! My father reacted faster, diving and grasping the sword, pulling it overhead just as I got to him. The blade came down and the Earth instinctively told me to grasp both of his arms, the force of the blow buckling me down to my knees.
“Give up, Augrais,” said my father, sweat and blood dripping down his chin.
I faired little better, the small cut I had received from his elbow was beginning to dribble blood into my right eye, making it difficult to see. The Fire that I had called upon earlier was now sputtering and threatening to disappear entirely. But I could not give in. This was more than defiance now.
With a roar of determination, I wretched the blade out of the ground where it hesitated for a moment then landed firmly in my hand. I pulled the blade back and began to swing.
Freeze, Augrais! rang the voice in my head. My body suddenly stopped, as if bound by invisible ropes, Balmung inches away from my father’s throat. I did not stop by my own will, nor from my fear, but from the invisible power of the person who was now crossing the field towards us. He was tall and mildly gaunt, with long, lanky limbs. His deep wrinkles portrayed that he was old, very old, but there was a certain spring in his long stride. This old man was helping me? How? Why? So many questions swirled in my head.
“Lokus.” My father’s voice was dangerously low. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“Alexander,” said the old man, extending his hand towards Father.
My father glanced down at the gesture then stated, “So I suppose you helped Augrais tap into his gifts.”
Gifts?
Lokus ignored my father’s statement and stepped towards me, peering at me as if I were a book with very small text. “My how you have grown. Last I saw you it was when…when was that again, Alexander?”
My father didn’t respond and glowered at the intruder.
“Release,” said Lokus, and the bonds from his command of freeze dropped, as the old man placed his hands on my shoulders. “Glad to see you’ve become the man we all thought you would.”
“We?” I said, feeling rather overwhelmed by the situation. “Who are ‘we’?”
Lokus gave me a perplexed look then rolled his eyes. “I told you he would be better in my care. The boy doesn’t even know his own heritage!” He clucked his tongue as he leaned forward and studied my wounds. Lokus quickly rummaged through his pockets and pulled free some strange ointments then went to work on my forehead to stop the bleeding.
“Ow,” I mumbled.
“We are Mystics,” Lokus explained, ignoring my pain. “An ancient civilization that seeks out the mastery of the energy Vitae and the gifts that give us preternatural ability.”
“Gifts?” My head was spinning.
Lokus shot my father a withering look.
“Yes, there are four gifts that a mortal human can have, each represented by an element: Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water. Fire is the gift of superhuman abilities: excessive, superhuman strength; speed; energy; or even all three. Your superhuman strength comes from that gift.”
I nodded.
“Earth is a gift of the mind. This is how we were able to communicate without words and how you were able to see your father’s attacks.
“Next is Water, the gift of the spell. You can persuade, and sometimes command, someone to do your bidding, much as I did to you earlier. Unlike the Earth, you cannot see into the others mind, only compel them to do what you would like.
“And lastly, the Air gift—the psychic gift of out-of-body experiences and, more importantly, the ability to sense others who have gifts around you. This is the rarest gift of all.” He finished tending to my forehead and put the herbs back into his pockets, then wiped the smudges from my face.
“Augrais, you are very special, having all four of these gifts. You may be the only one in the world who does.”
The only one in the world…that thought burrowed into my mind. Why hadn’t Father told me any of this? Why keep it from me? I looked to him questioningly, but he wouldn’t take his eyes off Lokus.
“So why aren’t we living together with the Mystics?” I asked the old man, feeling embarrassed. “Why don’t I know any of this?”
“You’re going to have to ask your father,” Lokus said innocently, glancing back at our third wheel.
“You didn’t answer my question,” my father growled. “Why are you here?”
Lokus looked more serious now, turning to face his questioner. “They’re on the move again and in larger numbers. Only a few kilometres from here.”
“They?” I asked.
“What if they had come here?” Lokus asked my father, ignoring my question. “How could you expect your son to be prepared enough to defend himself?”
“Don’t question me, Lokus,” my father spat, but the older man stopped paying attention to him. Instead, he turned to me and answered:
“There are many remnants of ancient civilizations in the world that coexist secretly among the normal human population, Augrais. Each of us, the Druids, Pagans, Mystics, and Boorr, use Vitae and the gifts in a unique way.” Lokus said, ignoring my father completely. “The Shadows are a new organization of individuals lead by a monster. They are hell bent on destroying us all.” Lokus hesitated then continued, this time speaking to my father. “Master Jun and Ambeya have fallen.”
“All the more reason you shouldn’t have come,” my father reiterated, raising his voice.
“I can’t do this alone, Alexander,” Lokus said, straining to remain calm. “I’m going to need you and your son’s help. They are better at tracking the stronger of us. If you or I enter that town, they will find us.”
My father opened his mouth then closed it, clearly thinking better of what he wanted to say.
“I’ll do it.” I volunteered. “Whatever it is.” This was my chance to finally get out here and I wouldn’t let Father stop me.
My father’s eyes met mine for a moment before he glanced back to Lokus and
gave a begrudging nod. “Only if you give me your word that you will leave here once you have what you are looking for.”
Lokus hesitated.
“Your word, Lokus,” my father stressed.
“Very well,” Lokus said, then rubbed his hands together as he spoke to me. “I need you to rally two other Vitae users in our name. They are boys, like much like yourself, with strong gifts.”
I blinked for a moment. Did he just ask me to do something outside of the forest? My father’s voice still echoed through my mind that I could never leave. Was I ready to just stroll into the world, Shadows and all? How would I know whom to trust? Where would I look? Despite my internal struggle, Lokus spoke once again, as if he could hear what I was thinking.
“They already know of your father and I, but you are unknown. This will allow you to go in and get out with the others without detection.” Lokus explained. “To find the other two, merely use your Air gift to sense their gifts. Now try to feel what gifts I have. Clear your thoughts, allow the world to become nothing to you. Let it come naturally”
I obeyed, closing my eyes and allowing my breath to become slow and controlled. I emptied my mind and allowed nothing to matter, nothing to be in focus. My Air gift instinctively honed onto Lokus’s powers. Nothing happened at first, but after a moment, I was able to feel—no—smell the Earth. I then felt the warmth of the Fire on my face, like the blistering sun on a hot summer day. I swayed back and forth, and the coolness of Water swirled around my feet as if I had walked into a river on a warm day. I almost became lost in it all, when I heard Lokus calling to me. As I was coming back, I felt a small breeze behind me.
My father and his gift of Air, of course. This is how Lokus knew of my gifts.
I choked back the feeling of bitterness towards my father before I spoke. “You have three gifts, Lokus. Earth, Fire, and Water. Your Earth is your strongest gift, then Fire, then Water.”
“Very good, Augrais.” Lokus smiled lightly and pointed to the east. “Head east into the forest until you come across a stone road and turn right. Follow it to the town a few kilometres away. Once there, use the Air gift to locate our two young Mystics. But be warned,” his smile slowly receded into a look of seriousness, “do not attract unwanted attention. Normal humans will be frightened and may try to hurt you if you threaten them. Further, and more importantly, if you use Vitae or your gifts out in the open, the Shadows will find you and hunt you down like hounds to a lone wolf.”
