Demonstration

Although she was excited there was a nervousness bubbling in her gut at the idea of Rune and Roy fighting. She had witnessed firsthand Rune crash down from above and kill an enormous boar with his bare hands, the idea that a young man with a sword could stand against him seemed ridiculous to her.

Yet Roy did not look worried, instead he looked almost... excited?

“To think I’d get to test my strength against a Herald,” the tawny haired man said with a bold smile. “I give my thanks to the Spirits for this.”

Beau seemed to sense Midori’s uncertainty and settled down beside her.

“Don’t worry. I know Rune’s really strong, but Roy can definitely handle himself.”

And as if on cue their demonstration began.

Rune cracked his knuckles and she saw what almost looked like flames engulfing his fists.

Yet on the other side she watched as Roy simply rolled his shoulders and it looked almost as if he became heavier, the ground beneath him indenting ever so slightly.

With her interest now even more piqued she leaned forward and focused her eyes, watching the flow of the River as they prepared.

Right now it was a quiet stream as each slowly circled one another, but the moment Rune rushed forward she saw the torrential shift. It burst up like a geyser enveloping Rune till he nearly shone with an inner light that then exploded outward as he launched a ferocious right hook.

The ground cracked as it connected with the flat of Roy’s blade yet the man was moved back only a few inches, and Midori watched as the River surged behind him buoying his strength to withstand the devastating strike.

It repeated again with Rune kicking out but finding resistance as Roy blocked with his forearm.

Watching the two begin the competition was fascinating, like watching two separate waves crash into one another. Small butterflies of light fluttered off like the spray of surf before vanishing into nothing.

“I think I kind of understand a bit better, it’s like a constant flow of energy. And to harness that energy you have to flow with it.”

In her mind she visualized being trapped in the River, letting it flow around her before sweeping her hand and attempting to draw on the current.

And in that moment a small mote of flame flickered to life, hovering in the palm of her hand. She watched it dance with an excited almost childlike smile. Excited to show Sahaela she was about to get up and leave before her eyes were drawn back to what had developed into a battle far more intense than a mere training exercise.

Rune’s body was now an inferno of red aura and Midori noticed his nails had lengthened into something more like talons though they were black and carved through the hard packed dirt with the ease of a hot knife through butter.

Yet Roy stood stout and nonplussed from the attack.

He had summoned a swath of solid rock over his arm to serve as a makeshift shield—it already bore the cuts of several talon slashes—and the sword he used remained unmarred even as he parried a vicious strike from Rune before thrusting the blade forward.

And it was then she realized he was aiming for Rune’s chest, he was aiming to truly kill him.

“They’re trying to kill one another!” She shouted, hoping her voice would be enough to stop the fight yet for the two combatants it fell on deaf ears.

“Indeed, Lady Midori,” Gray said with a stern voice while wearing an even sterner stare as he watched the battle. “Roy has been holding on to some things, and has only now found someone who can take all that he has to let out.”

Turning her attention back to the fight gone were the smiles from before, replaced instead with a determined focus. Rune’s eyes held a curiosity in them, as after each strike he batted away Roy would return with an even greater fervour, and it was then that Midori recognized the look in Roy’s eyes from when she used to look in the mirror.

A look of having given up, yet being too scared to be the one to end it all.

“No,” she said. Her body rose up instinctively and she felt Beau grip her wrist to prevent her from moving forward, yet she tugged it free.

“Lady Midori,” Gray said with panic laced in his voice. “Be careful you could-”

“Stop holding back!” Roy shouted, his voice no longer carrying a jovial tone but one that was hoarse and cracked near the end.

“I’m not going to give you what you want, Roy.” Rune said calmly while dancing in between thrusts of the sword aimed for his throat and midsection.

“But I need it! I deserve it!” Roy shouted back before jumping back and tossing the sword aside.

Taking a slow breath he raised his hands toward the sky before thrusting them into the hard packed dirt as if it were loose sand, and a moment later the earth began to shake as small divots began to form in the ground. Roy’s muscles strained and he groaned with the frustration of a champion weight lifter he pulled forth from the ground an enormous blade made of what looked to be dirt that had been so compacted together it was like iron.

“You’ll have to stop holding back now Rune!” He screamed, with a mad look in his eye. “You’ll have to kill me if you want to stop me!”

Gray had leaped in front of Midori and was holding her back, gone was the mask of pretend that this was normal and instead a look of worry and fear was etched into every wrinkle of the older man’s face.

“Rune!” Midori shrieked in terror as Roy swung the blade down with every ounce of his strength.

Time almost seemed to pause in that moment, and with each beating of her heart she watched first in horror as the blade came less than a foot from Rune’s face, followed by surprise as a vortex of flame erupted from the ground at his feet.

Yet the flames were darker than she had ever seen before, a murky black-red that sent a chill down Midori’s spine.

And as suddenly as it was made the enormous blade of earth was shattered with ease, stopped in what had previously been Rune’s open hand but now looked like the arm and hand belonging to some demonic beast of fire. Dark black-red flames licked along charcoal fur with very distinct bright red markings along the shoulder, and she watched as the fur threatened to creep further across Rune’s bare skin.

“Enough!” Rune shouted, his voice reverberating with whatever power he’d tapped into.

Closing his eyes he shook free the arm as if it were something that could be shaken free, yet a moment later his arm had returned to normal. He breathed a slow breath of relief before crossing the distance between him and Roy, kneeling by the man who sobbed loudly.

“I did so many horrid things, Rune…all in the name of some glorious future…”

Rune embraced him tightly, shaking his head slowly.

“There is no glorious future, Roy, no grand or magnificent end, no meaning to it all. And so if nothing we do matters, in a cosmic scale. Then all that matters is what we do.”

Roy cried for a long time after that, and Rune was there for him through it all.

-----

While they rested from the eventful afternoon Midori reflected on what she had learned in watching them both fight.

Learning not to fight the flow was merely the first step, now she was able to comprehend the idea of weaving it into more complex patterns.

“Have you ever knit before?” Sahaela asked with her usual kindly smile while settling down next to her after her evening’s performance. The trio had grown fond of her singing and on a day that was as emotionally charged as today her voice was soothing on all that heard it.

“Not really. I used to draw and paint in school though.”

“Used to?”

“Yeah, I actually wanted to be an animator when I grew up,” seeing Sahaela’s confused face she answered the unasked question. “It’s someone who makes animated films.”

“Like The Little Mermaid?”

“More or less, yeah. But I quit after my final year of high school.” She said drearily.

“But why? Did you stop enjoying it?”

Shaking her head Midori wondered how best to explain the pressures of both the school system and social structure she grew up in. It took a few minutes of fairly detailed explanations about the crushing expectations students were put under in the final two years of high school.

“So you had the will to dream beaten from you?”

Midori nodded, “pretty much.”

“That’s…really sad, I’m sorry Midori…” She offered a comforting smile. “But imagine if you will the pattern to be similar to a painting.”

In Midori’s mind the image of a blank canvas appeared, she stood before it brush in hand.

“Once you have the idea in your mind, do you start there? Or do you begin setting a foundation, a layer to build from. And from there you carve things out slowly, building detail, shadow, depth.”

For a moment she was back in the art room of her high school. Several easels standing about in a semicircle though only one bearing canvas. A ticking clock on the wall with a broken second hand that counted twice every so often.

Standing at it she slowly began painting on the initial layer before going in with dark colours so that the lighter ones would shine even brighter, layering lighter and lighter until standing back to reveal the large globule of water she had been drawing.

“Open your eyes Midori,” Sahaela’s soft voice broke through, she didn’t even realize she had her eyes closed.

Opening them up she was momentarily taken aback as the globule of water she had painted floated slowly in the air, caught in the faint draft of the wind like some enormous misshapen bubble. She resisted every urge in her that screamed to pop it.

Chuckling she looked over at her smiling ghostly mentor.

“I can’t believe I did that…how did I do that?”

“You built the pattern of it, layer by layer.”

It was then Midori realized how tense her muscles felt, and how out of breath she felt despite her having been seated for however long it was.

“How long was I out of it?”

“I would say just shy of one hour.”

“One hour!?” Midori said with incredulity. In her mind it had felt shorter even though to make a painting like she had would have taken several days.

“You’ll get better with time and practice. I’m honestly impressed you could manage that, you’ve a knack for magick that is to be certain.” And though there was definitely pride in the older woman’s tone, Midori could not help but hear the faint edge of venom there.

But perhaps she had merely imagined it.