Chapter One
'Fuck, this is good...'
He moved his arm in front of him, marvelling in its fluidity, the beads of sweat hanging from hairs, caught by the setting sun and reflecting it. He swept them off, following the arc of their descent to the grass.
'Wow.' He turned to his companion and smiled. 'Pretty cool, huh?'
She nodded, stunned. For her, the sword in her hand was a living thing full of venom, a serpent, a cock. It was not of her but it was still hers, still part of her identity. She swung it round, spinning it, feeling the momentum take hold and guiding it. The sword was a combination of precise, almost surgical beauty and function, balanced and proud. She took a few more swings, kebabing a series of unfortunate leaves and decapitating a small orange flower.
Sasha was her name but here, it was Flame. She wasn't even a redhead. But she was brought alive by friction. Some can live a life of peaceful coexistence. Sasha was not one of them. She was a dramavore and she was hungry. For now, though, she made the effort. She didn't want to be alone here.
She felt the wind blow down the mountain when she jumped and caught a low hanging branch, pulling herself into a tree. She had never felt so strong, so vital. Was this how life was supposed to feel?
She noticed she wasn't breathing and wondered if it mattered.
Flame dropped from the tree into a crouch and rolled like a paratrooper. That felt good. She did it again, just because. She plucked a flower from the side of the river and smelt it. Everything seemed so real. She knew why but she hadn't expected to believe it quite so much. She looked at the reflections of the sunset in the river and shivered a little. So much for natural beauty.
She started walking back to the clearing, wondered why, and swung from the tree like an orang utan. She let go at the top of her swing, somersaulted once and landed on her feet two yards from her friend.
'Pretty cool, huh, Ken?'
She smiled, running her fingers through her hair and knocking off the hat she forgot she was wearing. She stooped to pick it up and spotted the snail.
'Man, they think of everything.'
Ken felt his own quickness and his eyesight improve. He strained his focus, looking further and further away but never blurring. This was incredible. His eyes had always been a weak point. Not his only one, to be sure, but now! Wow! He spotted an apple in a tree a hundred yards away, and his bow was a flash into his hands, an arrow poised and fired in an instant and without conscious thought. The apple yielded to the arrow, pierced and falling. It fell.
Ken walked to retrieve his arrow and broke off the apple around it, taking a bite. Strangely, he felt a little better. Even stranger, it tasted of apple. He heard it crunch between his molars, felt the piece of skin get stuck between his teeth.
'Shit! This is amazing.'
He looked around, saw the river and sprinted to it, performing a couple of Arab springs on the way. The strain on his back and shoulder muscles was unexpected but vindicating. He could do this. For the first time in his life, he ran into the wind and felt it buffet his face, pulling down his felt cap and feeling the peach-like fabric between thumb and forefinger. Pretty smooth, Ken. Looking good.
He looked at his legs as he ran, watching them pumping like pistons over the long grass. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, rinse and repeat. He watched them so closely he didn't see the rock he tripped over, and bounced down to the river, cutting his cheek on the shingle.
