Between Wind And Fire

The First Lesson

Long evening shadows streamed across the field behind Jirad's home. The cool air was fresh with the smell of dew and earth. Uriel stood, watching Jirad. His body still ached from the ordeal, but his focus was sharp.

Jirad raised a hand, his eyes settling on a distant tree. "The power of a mage comes from within," he began, his voice level and calm. "The inner wellspring is known as the Manus Core; it's where we store our energy, known as Vitae."

As Jirad spoke, Uriel felt a change in the atmosphere. It seemed a bit harder to breathe, and the hair on his back stood on end. The soft orange light that blanketed the field turned into a dull gray. Jirad raised his index finger and pointed at the tree. A moment passed in silence.

Crack!

A brilliant vein of bright blue lightning struck the tree, leaving the trunk and the area around it reduced to smoky black soot.

Jirad dropped his hand, facing Uriel. "The Manus Core holds varying volumes of Vitae, which the mage stores and uses at his will-obviously, the larger the core, the more capable the mage. It allows you to cast spells of higher complexity and potency without running out of steam too fast."

Uriel was still dazed, not really registering what he was hearing. What had he just seen? Was this really the old man Jirad that he had known all these years? Forcing himself back to the present, Uriel made an attempt at asking his next question. "A-and what happens if I use up all my Vitae?"

Jirad's face turned grave. "That's what is known as backlash. When your Manus Core empties completely, the body begins to break down fats and muscles to Vitae to keep itself going. It's incredibly painful and can leave you bedridden for days, weeks, even months, depending on the severity."

Uriel swallowed hard, the weight of Jirad's words sinking in. "So how do I avoid that?"

"Control and discipline," said Jirad. "You will have to master the art of managing your Vitae well. Be sure you know your limits and never push yourself to the very edge, unless absolutely necessary."

Jirad stepped forward, closer, and reached out to lay a hand on Uriel's shoulder. "Now, let's try something more straightforward. Close your eyes and focus on your Manus Core. You feel the Vitae inside you? Like a river flowing through your veins. Pull a small amount to your fingertips."

Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, he concentrated. A flicker of warmth in his chest suddenly manifested. Slowly, he tried to direct this warmth to his hand. Initially, it didn't work, but after some time, he began to feel something like a tingling in his fingers.

"Good," said Jirad, coaxing. "Now see that energy as a little fire or light, it works differently for everyone. Since you're a luxomancer, you're probably more comfortable with just light. Let it flicker and grow, but keep it controlled."

In his imagination, Uriel had the picture of a tiny sun dancing on his fingers. He could feel the Vitae respond, a soft light shining from his hand. As he opened his eyes, having seen the faint light, a smile touched his lips-a feeling of accomplishment washed over him.

"Good. That's step one. A bit of practice, and you will be able to utilize your Vitae with less risk of Backlash," Jirad said encouragingly.

Uriel nodded, feeling stirrings of determination within himself. It was going to be an extremely difficult path, but for once he felt he would be given a chance to really get on top of this power thing and make things work.

Excitement rushed through Uriel, pulsing through his sphere of light to a as it's blaze grew in intensity. It was getting brighter and larger and hotter at the tips of his fingers. His heart raced, almost filled with the thrill. Although, the more intense the light became, so too did the heat start to rise around them. The air sizzled around the two as it stung their skin.

"Uriel, you should stop now," said Jirad, his voice filled with concern.

Uriel tried to pull back the energy, but it was like trying to wake up after a long sleep; his body just wanted to roll over and continue. It continued to fill further and further with more Vitae, everything Uriel did in his power to stop it being utterly in vain.

"Uriel, stop!" Jirad shouted and ran toward him, his fingers igniting with electricity to be ready to subdue him. "I... I can't!" Uriel gasped, his voice restrained by the effort.

The sphere continued to swell, pulsing with a dangerous intensity. Just as Jirad was about to intervene, a voice broke through the tension.

"URIEL !"

It was Elanda. The sound of her voice seemed to jolt his very being. The orb suddenly swelled threatening to kill them both before it burst open like a blooming flower scattering millions of shining pollen-like specs across the field.

Uriel stumbled back, shocked. The world around him trembled under the remnants of his uncontrolled power. Turning to see who had spoken, it was Elanda standing at the edge of the field, her eyes wide with shock.

As he went to step toward her, he felt his strength leave him, his legs folding into the ground. It was like swimming through the air-each movement became laboriously slow. His vision was clouding over, the world swaying dizzily before everything crumbled and he fell down, the golden dust whirling around him as he was swallowed into the oblivion of unconsciousnes-