The Fourth Law

Chapter 3

Ben sat alone before a river, golden rays of sunlight shining through the leaves overhead as dawn settled in. A gust of wind ran over his form, but he didn't feel it; it never reached his skin. Cloaked in the void, he felt empty and alive in a way that nothing but the Power could produce. Holding his hands before him, he was trying to braid threads of the Power into long strings of energy, as he recalled from his dreams. The name of this particular weave was rather confusing, honestly; in ke'taal, every spell was formulated by weaving threads of the power together, and the finished spells were called "weaves". This particular weave was called, simply, "threads of fire", but actually involved braiding together threads of fire and air both together, fire for heat, air for structure. As he concentrated on the task, the thin threads of the power that could only be seen in light if one focused coalesced into long, thick threads of white-hot fire that seemed to sear the air around them, growing out from the tips of his fingers. As they coalesced, he began weaving faster, forming the braids longer and faster until he had four different threads each four feet in length extending from the tips of his fingers.

A sense of accomplishment slid across the surface of the void, but Ben's hold on the Void was too strong now for it to do any more than that. Still, he did feel some sense of satisfaction. With a nod, he began pulling on the threads constituting the braids, moving them around slowly. After a while practicing, he sighed, letting go of the void. The weave vanished as the source of its power did, and so did the vibrance of life. As emotions flooded Ben's mind, he grimaced slightly, then pushed them all out again, allowing them in one at a time so he could better process them. It took him a few minutes to process the emotions built up in his mind over the past two hours of practice, but once he did, he sighed, and pushed himself to his feet. He gazed over the river for a short while, watching the sunlight glitter off of its surface. Eventually, he nodded, and turned away, trudging up the slope towards camp. The strong smell of the forest was on his nose, but it smelled weak compared to what was smelt with the Power in him. Still, the air was fresh and a bit crisp, compared to what filled the days, at least.

Ben strode through the woods wearing farmer's sandals, though he was a bit unsteady on his feet in the foreign terrain with them. He had worn them in case it was muddy by the river, so as to avoid losing his boots to them, but strangely, the soil there was much less muddy than a lot of the places in town, despite it being right by the constantly-flowing water. He shook his head. Strange. Walking on, Ben suddenly stopped as he saw something out of the corner of his eye, and his head snapped toward it. He could have sworn there had been a man, there, just a moment before... After a moment, though, he sighed. Letting fancies take me now, he thought sourly, then walked on towards camp. He moved more slowly though, and warily, his hand resting on the hilt of the steel blade on his hip. Just in case, he told himself. Just in case.

Stepping into camp, Ben gave a sigh of relief to be out of the thick of the woods, and looked over the camp. People were already packing up and getting ready to head out. Only one small cook fire had been lit for the morning, to boil water. The caravan leader had used it to make some strange, very strong tea from something that looked to be almost more like crushed nuts than any kind of tea leaves Ben had ever seen. Ben grimaced slightly at the memory of it. It certainly woke you up, if for no reason other than its taste.  He felt like he could still taste the bitter, gritty drink on his tongue. After only a short while of observing, Ben nodded and moved to pack his own things. He did not have a tent, just a square of oilcloth twelve feet to a side which he had strung up between two trees to keep off any rain or wind. Folding it neatly, he tucked it into his pack, then worked a bit longer to pack his bedding and other few belongings into his saddlebags, and replaced his sandals with a pair of studded leather boots which got laced halfway up to his knees, the full length of the gathered portion of his Duroi. Before long, he was packed and setting the saddles onto Thunder and Stepper over their Blue and Gray saddle blankets, and tying them on. He was far from a master, but he had experience riding horses, though less so with tacking up, as he usually had help from the stable grooms. Nonetheless, it took him only a little longer than the others before he was ready and walking Stepper along beside him as he rode thunder slowly towards the capital.