Journal of Fire: Embers

Chapter 2, The Wicked Winter Begins

Journal of Fire Entry 1, continued (Atrein Diablon)

Year 0 A.D., The First Day of Winter

Krotrean, Ertore

My morning ritual was unlike any other in Rania, for I mustered no prayer to a god or goddess, and when I opened my eyes, no family was around me. Instead, I dove into an hour-long workout in what was a glorified closet. The sun was still sleeping, and my murky window let through no light, but that could not stop me. I saw myself in my mirror quite well. A simple twitch of my left eye gave me sight that could cut through even the thickest darkness as if it were daytime. When my left eye was in this state, it looked similar to an animal's eye, giving off a mysterious sheen.

After stretching my legs and arms well, I dropped into the push-up position and began spewing out an endless stream of push-ups. The wind outside raged against the side of my house, but I used the noise as cover. When I heard the wind pick up, I'd exhale and inhale.

I hoped this intermittent breathing would help Craytar and Seimn's sleep go uninterrupted, but the task of waiting for the wind to pick up and timing my breathing to it proved to be a fun game. Around the 180 push-ups mark, I felt my pectoral muscles begin to weep in agony, but I managed to hit my goal. I grinned as I reached two hundred and ten push-ups in a row, which was a new record.

If the wealthiest man in Ertore paid me to, I still could not explain what had been happening to my body over the past three months. I would have chosen metamorphosis if asked to describe it with only a word. I always was among the stronger of my peers, but my strength rapidly increased out of nowhere. Four months ago, I could hardly do eighty push-ups in a row. Perhaps the most significant change I noticed was my eyes.

At first, I thought my right eye's vision was deteriorating, but that was far from the truth. In reality, it was adjusting its perception of the world around me. Now, I could see the essence of everything through my right eye: soul. My left eye began improving its perception of the physical world, and I could see much further and in greater detail through it. The divergence of my eyes was something I left out on my health evaluations, and I planned on keeping their secrets to myself.

As light crept through my blood-red window, I twitched my left eye off and felt immediate relief. Though night vision was terrific, it proved to be costly. Overuse of it brought intense headaches and fatigue. I stood up and wiped a thin layer of sweat from my brow before getting dressed for the day. First, I slid on some questionably dirty socks before shaking my feet into a pair of rugged and stained brown boots. I let out a sigh as I forced on the dreaded red armbands.

The friction from putting the coarse arm bands on chaffed my arms, but they did this to everyone. The priests claimed it helped wake up one's mind in the early morning and remind us of our duties. I doubted any of us in the city needed more reminders, though. The armbands lit up in a dull red glow, giving me just enough light to see clearly. The fabric of the armbands began to interweave and flow in a mesmerizing pattern of triangles as they slowly constricted, but I ignored them for now. I'd give my fair share of praise when I felt like it. Next, I became swallowed by my thick red robe, which held a slight musk of burnt leather. I felt grateful for it today, for the cold was invasive.

Before leaving my room, I ran a brush through my hair. I envied Seimn and Craytar, for they had soft, flowing hair. Mine was coarse and black. I attempted to make my hair presentable, but I gave up once the clump on the top of my forehead was tactically dangling to the side. I gave the mirror a final glance, and I remembered something as I stared at the man in the mirror. It was the first day of winter, so it was also my twenty-first birthday.

My thoughts broke through for a few seconds, and I became bitter. The twenty-first birthday was known as a man's inheritance day. Yet I had nothing to inherit. Should he have wanted, his father would happily hand over the family business. Then a sparkle of metal behind me caught my attention, and the bitterness faded.