Book of The Lightborn: Rise

Taming the wilds

He steps into the snow. The cold almost reaching beyond the light, which protects him, but he isn't phased. He keeps walking, until the first rays of sun disturb the ongoing, harsh storm surrounding him. It's the mark of the second sun or third day since he left the Link.

After some time, the blizzard stops, and so does he. In front of him, he can now see in the far distance tall hills, reaching the skies and maybe beyond. He can't tell; those are mountains. Two mountain ranges, each about the same height, parallel from one another, going further south and forming a valley or passage between them. "Perfect," Kilon thought as he sat down. "There is only one way from the looks of it through the passage, so the beast can only be behind or in front of me once in there," he whispered thoughtfully to himself.

Kilon took in the surroundings. The usual critters could be seen plucking their heads from underneath the snow or flying high above the ground: icicle turtles, stormhawks, starstags, horned rabbits, and such. From where he stood, Kilon could see a bit ahead, a portion of ice that covered a body of water. Interested by what could live below this frozen landscape, he walked and took a look. Below the ice, he could see a fish, from time to time, swimming aimlessly. He also witnessed as a creature with blue light attached to long membranes erecting from its head and spine, would use its two mandibles around the mouth to snatch and swallow whole fishes in a blink. It was so fast, Kilon couldn't follow with his eyes, and the power of those mandibles was enough to completely crush anything that dared stand between them. Kilon wondered, "Maybe the beast hunts in a similar way," as he tapped the ice with the antler he held in his right hand. The creature, which he named grabber, swam away quickly following the disturbance.

Kilon stood down after observing the grabber to practice his wind manipulation. Now that there were only breezes of wind, it was the perfect opportunity to refine it, as these slow and soft winds would help develop a sensitivity for it. His practice, although short, was fruitful; now Kilon could feel the slow winds and manipulate them. He thought, "If I can gather a bunch and sweep them around, I could create a strong current or spin them so fast they would gather other winds and form a tornado." But the blizzard would start once more, disturbing his peaceful practice.

As Kilon walked some more, letting the blizzard envelop him, he stumbled and cut his leg into a rock. Following the cut, small sparks would disperse from it and disappear into the blizzard. The sparks would heal the cut quickly, but a small sense of loss was felt across his body. It wasn't the first time he would stumble or fall, be it because of a rock or a sleeping icicle turtle. The cause of his following distress and interest was that he never got injured. Kilon's body could withstand those as it adapted to the harsh environment. As he used his wind manipulation to clear some space around him, he could see a purely black rock, standing like a sore thumb amidst the snow, yet as hard to see as anything else during a blizzard. Kilon approached it and touched it with his finger, which almost cut him. "Something this sharp could cut through about anything that lives in these lands," Kilon figured. But as he looked closer and brushed over the snow around it, he fell back, scared by the scene in front of him. It was the skeletal remains of one of his brethren, buried underneath a layer of thick ice, and, in their left hand, trying to reach for the surface, the curved claw of some unknown creature. After a closer look, he could tell which brother of his was; it was Alvaraan, the next tallest Lightborn after him, one of the first to leave the Link. It seemed that Alvaraan had the same idea as Kilon and tried to reach for the mountains but was probably killed or trapped underneath the ice before he had the chance. Looking at his bones, Kilon could see a large cut across his face on the right side, while the hand which held the claw had it partially cut through by the claw, with the pointy end towards his palm. Kilon was cut by the thicker, duller part at the end which erupted from the ice.

Kilon had a surge of feelings within him: sadness, anger, curiosity, fear, all swirling and rustling his mind. As he stood there for a while, the early sun went by, the blizzard calming down towards the end, and the night and day met once more at the middle. Kilon, deep within thought, finally snapped out of it. He approached the remains of his brother, standing above, he placed his hand on top of the ice, he prayed, lifting himself a bit above the ground, then looked down at his brother. "Your sacrifice shall not be wasted," as he said that, he grasped at the light following him, pulling it strongly into his body, letting a powerful surge of energy and warmth engulf him. Then, with his hand on the ice, he let the energy accumulate in the palm of his hand and let it melt the thick layer of ice. Although it took some time, he successfully freed the remains of his brother. Kilon gently lifted the heavy bones of his dead brother. The bones of a Lightborn were almost glass-like, formed by countless strands of opaque matter, which would make a distorted vision when looked through. As light would shine through the bones, it would make rainbows below them, little sparks seemingly escaping from the bones - a beautiful phenomena for an otherwise grim situation.