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Flames in Swamp part II

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After some light scouting of the swamps the group settle back down for another week.

Ethelred takes up working nights again. The focus is the flame. Picking up the slow work of lighting the candle without out burning the wick, without using the material of the candle itself.

Slowly Ethelred works with different materials, different approaches to bringing the flame forth onto the candle. Each night reveals more of the essence of fire, the possible sources of material. Going over the scrolls again and again he tries to find the ‘ley lines’ that the scroll mention can be a source of power. At first his attempt fails, but after a full night of focusing, eyes closed, he sense the faint lines. Pulling slowly from them he is able to produce a small flame, and hold it as the power flows through him.

The following night he attempts to be the source of the flame, to power to effect on his own. Long hours spent, sweat beading his brow as he tries hard to generate the energy needed. Struggle, toil, but no results. Exhausted he sits back down, returns to the ley lines. What become apparent is much like the ley lines, his own power is there. Gradually he is able to feel the power, channeling until he has a small flame in the palm of his hand. Flickering in the wind, his palm a light, warm but not burning.

For the rest of the week he continues to practice, to improve, to grown this flame power. Until he is able to control, understand and transcribe the process into this book. Producing a flame is now something he can do at will.

Progress.

Flame in the Swamp

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As the time of training with the fighters comes to an abrupt end, Red switches focus inward. The task of the flaming dagger become his sole focus. The days become a time to sleep. Nights are spent mostly in the dark, with a single candle he will not light.

He starts with warming his fingers. Feeling how his heat can work to barely soften the wax. Gradually conjuring more heat, but only enough to slightly melt, and never enough to even hint at lighting the candle. Slowly reducing the heat, with the goal of leaving the candle visibly undisturbed.

Night after night he works with the candle, taking it apart more and more. Eventually reducing it into parts: as glob of wax, a bit of wick, some flecks of dirt. Then slowly shaping it back, as if it was never apart.

The material now fully yields to him and reforms. Only then does he begin to bestow light upon the candle. Drawn from, elsewhere than the candle, a few sparks dance around the wick. Without letting them grown to fire or go out, he works them into a dance. One more nights spent with just the sparks.

And then the groups seems restless to do other things with their days the be in camp. Red’s wants no part of exploring, of looking around.

Bandages

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After a particularly active afternoon of training with the fighters Ethelred submits himself to Gustav for some bandaging. While watching the ranger work a phrase from the scrolls pass through Red’s mind.

“Gustav, what do you think about when you are healing people? Does the skill you have flow out of you like water? Are you a river or an ocean of healing?”

Red, for the first time, seems genuinely interested in the healing arts.

Training in the Swamp

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When Red delivered the killing blow to the crocodile something in him stirred. He felt for a moment some kinship with the true fighters of the group. As if a small flame that had been growing within him caught a gust of wind.

Each morning he would rise, eschew his studies and join Rask and Ca’armine for morning training. The work was hard, and Red gained many bruises. Each day seeing small gains in how he held himself, how the weapons felt more like an extension of him.

After the fight training Red would then lead his own lesson in swimming. The cold water felt good, washing away the sweat, calming the wounds. Swimming made Red miss his home and the pools he helped build, and swam in, in Aigier. Aigier seems like such a distant memory now. Home but yet not as familiar as it once was.

As the days wore on Red finally was able to learn some new skills from the fighters. The path of a hero was visible about before him. But that changed…

An off hand comment from Alexis about Ezrin struck Red to the core. The memory of the last time he saw Ezrin laying on the ground, a lump. Could Red have picked up Ezrin and carried him out? Maybe. What would be different now if he had rescued the best magic teacher he has known.

When Red returned to his bed that night he takes up the scrolls, that all seem to echo with Ezrin’s voice in his ears. That night be does not sleep, does not rise to train. He turns his focus from the physical, to the material.

Next Shadow Blade Moves

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While the Crimson Calling is aboard the Gilded Zephyr, Alexis approaches Rask.

“Having slipped free of the Shadow Blades, what is their next move? How long will they wait in Sutheron? How will they try to pick up our trail? Obviously, we didn’t know the resources they have in Sutheron that they might be able to call upon, but let’s assume the resources are minimal when it comes to tracking us; I want to know what the Blades will do on their own.”

More Shadow Blades?

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Early in the group’s training on the edge of the Llanos river, Alexis approaches Ca’armine.

“How is your rest and re-orientation so far?”

…

Alexis listens with genuine interest. After some discussion and follow-up Alexis brings up another topic. “In Sutheron I neglected asking if anyone is hunting you like the Shadow Blades hunting Rask.”

Alexis awaits Ca’armine’s reply.

Alba Left Behind

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Early in their stay along the Llanos river Alexis sits down next to Ethelred on the same log. Alexis starts talking when Ethelred looks up from his reading materials at him.

“Poor girl. I hope she doesn’t get herself killed before we get back. A lot of potential in our little miss of house Veronia.

“She’d sure like a message.” Alexis says, clearly intent on not going out of his way to make this happen.

A Week In The Grasslands

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After the group has been dropped off by Hap, spent a day investigating the items they have, and enjoying being in the grasslands each of them starts delving into their own studies.

Over the next week, the weather seems to stay cold where the group is, even as spring seems to be taking hold around them. Frost greets the group on their gear and around the camp.

As well, during this week, backpacks and other buckles seem to be open when they were left closed. Perhaps this coincides with the occasional dreams of twisted creatures begging to be released when nothing seems to shackle them, struggling to open doors that finally open to rooms full of seemingly worthless treasure, or attempting to read books that contain text that seems to form never-ending and circular writings.

The Ironjaw Surprise

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The group slips away from Vordegern’s warehouse under the bright mid-morning sun, its rays casting long shadows as they weave through the alleyways. Alexis casts a quick glance over his shoulder, then leans in to Rask.

“You looked… surprised when you saw that Cedric Ironjaw character.” His voice carries a hint of curiosity, as though he’s fishing for a story.

He Did The Right Thing, For Now

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Alexis is staying up on his watch with the smell of smoke still coming into the mansion of the Crimson Calling. He has spent the time on his watch so far pacing to try and stay ahead of the memories from his time with Malkar.

During his pacing Alexis checks on Gustav, and notices Sally as well. Alexis is able to forget about himself as he remembers what Sally went through.

Alexis squats next to Gustav and speaks to Sally “we both went through a lot today, didn’t we, although I might have come out with fewer scars than you, huh?” Alexis smiles faintly at Sally and reaches out to pet her.

Alexis gets up and walks away coming back a few minutes later with some morsels for Sally. After feeding Sally Alexis asks “I’m going to keep walking around, did you want to join me?” Alexis extends his hand for Sally to hop on.