Finding that call

Before the torch he stood, eye closed, but ears clearly hearing the sounds made by the guttering flame. Shadows that he couldn’t see flickered along the wall beckoning silently to anyone who would notice. Ignoring the room around, dark but for the light of that one torch, the young man, tall and lean, braced sandaled feet on the ground.

He could feel the heat on his face, the swirl of the air caused by the convection current… but he couldn’t sense what he sought, where the targets stood.

With a disheartened sigh he let his shoulders sag, slowly opening his eyes to see the circle of wooden poles around him, each topped by small sheaves of grass.

“It’s no use, I can’t see them ‘rael, I don’t think it’s going to work.”

Stepping from the shadows outside the circle, the woman named Azrael pulled back her hood, revealing her loosely tied raven black hair which subtly reflected the light. A slight smile played around her lips as she addressed her whining charge.

“You’ve been saying that for days Orion, yet there isn’t any doubt, you’ve been tested and you will use your power. We’ll stay here all month if need be.”

Pausing to regard the young man who, at 17 years of age, could look over her head easily, she sighed. “Just remember what I taught you, feel the world around you…follow the air.”

Orion looked doubtful, but he shrugged once more with resignation and turned to face the torch again. Ever since he had started to feel the convection current flowing up off the fire, he had thought that something would happen. Yet that had been a week ago, and nothing had changed in the last 10 days.

“Remember, follow the air!” Azrael called as she stepped back into the shadows.

Once more Orion closed his eyes, feeling for the heat and the flow of the currents that moved around him. As the hot air rose above the torch, it pulled in cooler air from the sides to replace the vacuum. This created air flow through the wooden sticks.

As Orion followed the air flows upwards, he suddenly had a new idea. Instead of tracing the air up and waiting for it to come down, perhaps it would be quicker to follow it down and outward from that. Sure it would be harder, moving between air points instead of simply following one, but at least it would be less boring then waiting for air to cool.

Beads of sweat started to form on his back as he laboriously forced his mind back down the air flow, towards the source of heat. He could feel the air streaming from the sides, and even further… just beyond his mind’s eye… obstructions.

The momentary distraction caused by that sense of achievement was all it took. Without warning, his consciousness plunged into the flame.

“ARGH!” He screamed, his mind surrounded by heat… and fire that scorched his soul.

“Orion!” Gasped Azrael, leaping forward and beginning her Wind Weaving. Without thought, her tendrils of air locked around his limbs, as she prepared to pull him towards her.

Then she stopped… amazed and truly frightened.

Orion’s hair, black as the night sky, was slowly being changed, from the roots up. A bright blondish orange climbed the straight and spiky hair, reaching all the way to the tips.

The boy’s back had begun to arch back, and his arms were flung out to the side, fingers curled into fists.

“AHHHHRG!!!” Screamed Orion again, and with that sound, his hands unfurled, bursting into flames.

“What in the world…?” exclaimed Azrael as she watched helplessly. She knew that pulling Orion away from the torch could be dangerous, yet the boy seemed to be in a tremendous amount of pain.

As suddenly as it began, Orion suddenly went limp, and dropped to the floor, all fire gone from his body. Smoke streamed from his clothing, from his fists, still orange hair and back.

Azrael quickly moved in to check his vital signs. His pulse fluttered slightly, but it still beat strong enough to show he was in no danger of dying. His breathing was rapid but steady and there were no burns on his skin.

Standing straight, the Wind Weaver called once again on her art, and using threads of air, she carefully laid the boy on his back and lifted him up. It was close to effortless for the small woman, so easily did the flows come, but still she concentrated just like she taught her students, and slowly began to walk out of the room.

To the naked eye, Orion’s limp body floated behind her, no longer smoking, as she made her way to his bed chamber. Once she reached the spartan room, she laid him down, tucked him in and left. Sleep, she hoped, would revive him. Anything else, she was afraid to try.

The next morning Azrael rose with the Sun and went immediately to check on her pupil. Surprisingly he wasn’t in the room. Despair and anxiety coursed through her veins for a split second, before she heard the sounds of sandaled feet padding around the garden outside.

Walking outside into the morning sunlight, she took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

There stood Orion… dressed in his customary black Acolyte’s uniform. His bright orange hair, caught the sunlight… and it almost seemed like his head burned with a torch’s fire. The young man was staring hard into the small pool in which several fishes swam. It became clear, as Azrael approached, that he was looking at his reflection.

“Morning Orion.” She greeted him, stopping a few feet away.

“Am I dreaming Az… Ouch!” He declared, rubbing the place where Azrael has flicked his ear.

“Morning Azrael!” The teacher remonstrated, crossing her arms and glaring at her student. “Training in weather arts isn’t the only thing I’m meant to teach you know.”

“Sorry, morning Azrael,” Orion mumbled before quickly continuing on. “Have you seen this?? Look at my hair!! What happened?? Is this some sorta joke? I don’t remember passing out last night…”

Azrael looked thoughtful for a moment. “You had an accident during training. You caught on fire. I don’t know how.”

Orion’s answering looking was pure astonishment, touched with suspicion. “You’re serious right? This isn’t like the time you told me that the male Acolytes roomed with the female ones.”

Azrael was torn between laughing at that memory and the gravity of the situation. As a result, only a slight smile touched her face, “I’m serious Orion… I think you’ve become an Embermage instead of a Wind Weaver.”

Understanding slowly dawned on the young man, followed swiftly by an expression of awe. “There hasn’t been an Embermage in 200 years!” he declared.

“Correct,” nodded Azrael, smiling at the reaction her charge had plastered on his face. “and as such, there isn’t anyone who can teach you how to control your gift. As your teacher, I will try. However a lot of the work will be your own. I wonder if you’ll be up to it.”

Orion considered his teacher for a moment, then smiled. “My brother told me that life was very simple. We make choices and don’t look back.”

Azrael raised her eyebrow “That doesn’t really answer my question.”

Orion smiled, “that’s what I used to think… but it does in a way. Once you make a choice… it’s your job to follow it through. I’m ready to learn. After all, my brother is the greatest Hydromancer in this City, maybe I’ll be able to show him that I can do things too.”

Azrael smiled again, this time a secret and knowing smile. Sibling rivalry was one of the strongest motivations between brothers, or sisters for that matter. She would have to tell Cerion the news. Her fiancé would be proud of his younger brother, though he would never admit it.

“Alright, take the day off, and I’ll do some research. There are plenty of manuals at Aeris Keep, I’ll see what I can find. Until then, try not to burn things down, and don’t tell anyone ok?”

Orion grinned broadly, showing a startling but not uncommon resemblance to his older brother. “Sure thing ‘rael, you can count on me!”

Azrael sighed deeply. How many times had she heard that phrase… it always meant trouble.