.Dragon's Legacy.

-15-

"This isn't what I expected help would be."

I was aching all over, some elf motherfucker having cracked my whole body in ways I didn't know it could somehow without making my ribs worst.

"Try to make fire now." She waited outside the room.

I raised a brow, unconvinced about anything she could believe happened but still rose my hand.

I waved my hand around and instead of a puff, fire remained dancing on my hand, not bigger than my fist by much but still this was progress.

"How the fuck?"

"Stress tenses your body up and can cause people to develop sever chronic pains because parts get blocked and locked so a good crack can pop them right back into place and relieve the pressure so that frees up the body and also mind so we kinda reset your body to basics so if your connection to magic wasn't severed by some means your magic should also have gotten better."

"We gotta have some humans learn this, damn, hurt on the moment but now I feel better." I sighed. "But still nothing near what it had once been." I closed my fist, smoke of the snuffed out flames rising between my fingers.

"Something you rejected for years of your life will not come back easily."

"I know but this is ridiculous."

"I did say it was pathetic.... I think you should visit the original master of fire."

"Dragons?"

"One dragon in particular."

I looked away with my arms crossed, not adding more.

I sighed softly through my nose feeling her hand on my shoulder.

"She taught you so she can help you, stop overthinking this."

"Yeah yeah Kela-whatever, I'm going to train." I don't know why bringing her up brought such a negative reaction out of me as I walked away.

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I felt bad for walking out on... Euh, I can't seem to ever remember her name, like Kela but what's the ending? Whatever, she's Kela, I feel bad she did nothing wrong and I got pissy.

For the first time since I got the book from uncle Em had it been open and I will not admit it but it was something exceptional.

The wording was oldish but I could read it, talking about an old cast of special people that came together through their fear of magic and the fear of it falling into the wrong hand.

Reading more brought more depths to their belief and their life style, no magic was tolerated and they created a style of fighting to block the flow of magic through their targets body.

"Everyone is spiritual, by the gods beards." I muttered, flipping the pages, this group was said to have voluntarily left the material world to enter into the spirit plains the last time they were getting close which lead me to realize this book must have been a copy, not the original one, as my spirit did say this happened long ago and yet I was able to read.

Flipping more I found detailed drawings on the strikes and poses and descriptions on how to perform them as it required great precision to master.

"I do have time." I hummed, standing and waving my hand, the branches of bushes rising up and I set the book on them as I stepped back, keeping an eye on the images and text while I set out to learn this forgotten style.

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It was very jumpy and I needed to be light on my feet which wasn't hard as Mystery herself loved spins and jumps to fight so I picked that up, being fast and precise was what came harder as your hand needed to be kept flat and somewhat stiff with little movement to your wrist as leeway to correct the strike, hitting the right spot with the tip of your fingers to make it viable as a technique, lucky me the owners of this copy had done a good job in copying the original book and had drawn the human body with which points to strike with great details.

I didn't had anyone to practice on so I wouldn't know how good I could be until I was to fight someone and try this out.

If I could learn this I could maybe measure up somewhat to the legacy I must uphold.

I froze at the end of a pose and listened.

"Someone is here." I whispered, standing straight. "And they are not welcome."