Sweat poured down the sides of Erich’s face. Heat pulsed through his body, burning the jagged shards of aether that were the final reminders of his image. They dug themselves into his body like thorns, resisting Sathis’ mana as the old cindeborn tried to purge them.

  Erich bit down on his lower lip. The pain from his teeth cutting into flesh was like a hesitant flickering candle before the midday sun. Even the iron taste of blood, rich and heady as it coated his tongue, seemed distant and beneath notice.

  A strangled scream caught in his throat, begging to escape but unable to make it past Erich’s esophagus as another wave of pain twisted it shut.

  “I’m going to need you to try and focus on what’s left of your image boy,” Sathis’ voice was gruff and urgent, his hands pressed tight against Erich’s back. “It’ll hurt more than swallowing a hot coal, but it’s the only way to clear the remnants out.”

  Erich turned his gaze inward, trying to bring up the picture of the lazy green river and the trees looming over it. There was a sway of branches in the breeze and a gurgle of water. For a second he was in the tiny world of the image.

  Then it was gone, replaced by all consuming flames that licked at the corner of his consciousness. Erich could feel the madness circling him, gibbering just outside the core of his being as it whispered sweet promises. That it would all get better if he just let go. Turned off his mind.

  “Stay with me,” Sathis grunted. “I’ve almost finished cleansing the last aether fragments. You can take a moment to breathe once they’re gone.”

  Erich nodded tightly, not opening his eyes. He could feel the marks in his palm where his nails had dug deep, puncturing callouses and exploding blood and flesh beneath. His heart was racing wildly, beating in quick fluttering intervals that sent spikes of panic through his system.

  More fire poured into his mind, searing through his inner being as they hunted down the last isolated bits of his image. A puff of cloudy sky disappeared. Then a single willow tree. Finally, the smell of damp mud from the river’s bank faded away.

  Another scream tore itself from his throat, but this time it managed to escape. Erich slumped forward, coughing as he tried to catch his breath and steady himself, all while the spinning kaleidoscope of insanity twirled around him.

  The fire twisted inside him, squirming like a predator through pathways only it could see as it slithered through his body. One by one if found the shards of aether that he had spent the last three years of his life accumulating.

  All of Erich’s work. His sweat. His early mornings on the practice yard. Every ounce of power that he struggled to gain, disappeared, transformed into nothing but clinging black smoke by the cinderborn’s fire.

  One second dragged into two, then three. His teeth clenched together as the burning seemed to reach a crescendo. It began to fade as time ticked onward. Every inch of his body still hurt, but it was no longer the all-consuming agony that erased his conscious thought and trapped him inside his own mind. Instead it was the soreness of the morning after a rigorous training session.

  “There you go Erich,” Sathis said soothingly, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re through the most painful part. Your image has been completely erased. You should take a drink of water and rest for a minute or so before we try to replace it.”

  Erich tried to reply, but the only sound that could escape his throat was a piteous whine followed by uncontrollable coughing.

  “Take it easy,” Sathis continued, rubbing his hand in a small circle on Erich’s upper back. “You’ve been through a lot. There’s no need to talk for now. Just wait for your strength to return and then we can talk about the next step. There’s no need to push yourself further until you’re ready.”

  Erich nodded. He was tired and his body hurt, but both of those sensations were fading rapidly. His body felt alien as life returned to it. Weaker and heavier than he was used to, but that was hardly a surprise.

  His image and all the aether he had carefully invested in it were gone. The Swaying Willow Blade wasn’t an acclaimed or advanced technique, but compared to his entirely mundane body the difference was obvious.

  With a groan, he rolled over onto his stomach, planting both of his palms in the rubble and pushing himself up. Erich tried not to look at the smear of blood left in the rock by the injuries on the palms of his hands, instead limping over to where Sathis had set the canteen aside.

  Gingerly, he popped the cork out of the container and swallowed a mouthful of water. It was warm and tasted like blood, likely from the damage he’d done to himself during the cleansing process. Still, Erich couldn’t stop himself from taking a second quick gulp before putting the stopper back in the container and setting it on the rocks.

  “Okay.” His voice came out as little more than a croak. “I’m mostly alive and my image is gone, what’s next?”

  “What’s next is that you sit down and calm yourself a bit,” Sathis said with a chuckle. “I can help you a little bit with recreating your image, but that’s a step that will mostly fall on you alone. For creating a new image, the most important factor is your willpower and mindset. I’m sure your mental energy reserves have been run ragged. Starting the process now would be more harmful than helpful.”

  He looked down at the smiling cinderborn. For all that Sathis looked like he was lounging indolently against the wall of the cave, the man’s lower legs were still buried under the rocks that had fallen from his battle with Major Nettlewisp.

  Erich crouched down next to the cinderborn, wincing as he let himself drop the rest of the way to the uneven rubble of the cavern floor.

  “Why are you helping me?” He asked. “I know you said something about your legacy and me doing you a favor, but that still doesn’t seem like a good enough reason for you to go through all of this. You must be in agony right now, and I was part of the team that came to kill you. You’d be well within your rights to hate me, to blame me for your current condition.”

  Sathis chuckled again, flashing a smile at him that glowed almost as brightly as his eyes.

  “No offense Erich,” the old cinderborn said cheerfully, “but if your previous self was actually capable of injuring me to this degree, I wouldn’t have any legacy and honor worth salvaging.”

  “We both saw that attack,” he continued, nodding toward the darkness outside the cave. At some point the glowstones lining the staircase wall had gone out on their own, and the cavern was only lit by an oval stone that sat on the rocks next to Sathis. “Your commander used the other martial artists and you as bait so that he could launch his final spell. You were just as much a victim of his as I was. There’s no use venting my anger on you.”

  “Still,” Erich began, unwilling to leave the conversation at that.

  “Still what?” Sathis asked. “I am dying. All men die. In cinderborn society, we are taught that truth from the moment we pick up our first sword. With every swing in practice or in battle, I learned to accept that it might be my last. What is more important than my life or death is to pass on the sword techniques that I have learned.”

  “I have already passed on my image to my son,” the cinderborn said wistfully. “My daughter developed an image of her own and is progressing down her own path. Both of them have also learned Magma Blossom swordsmanship. That should be enough to seal my legacy, but in you I see the potential for something greater.”

  “If you survive, your footsteps will shake the worlds Erich. I might not be much of a master, after all I doubt I’ll survive more than a week, but if I’m the one who gives you the start you need, well- that’s an honor not many can claim.”

  “That’s it?” Erich asked. “You’re betting everything on the hope that someday I will become a great warrior?”

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  “What else do you want from me?” The old cinderborn questioned sarcastically. “I’m dying and my culture doesn’t allow a warrior to commit suicide. At least training you gives me something interesting to do for the next week or so. Certainly better than moping under a pile of rocks until my aether finally fades away.”

  “I wish your help wasn’t so painful,” Erich replied, “but I’m happy to receive it. I just can’t help but feel that I wouldn’t be half as gracious if I were laying where you are.”

  “Don’t worry,” Sathis said with an easy smile, “I know enough of the Empire’s ways to be aware of how alien all of this is for you. Once you spend some time among the cinderborn and learn our ways, this will all begin to make a lot more sense.”

  “Once I-” Erich frowned.

  “Oops,” Sathis cut in with a wink. “That’s still a secret. For now, how are you feeling? More collected? Calm enough to make an attempt to form a new image?”

  Erich paused, pondering whether or not to pursue the conversation. Sathis obviously didn’t want to talk about the subject further, but at the same time, the old cinderborn obviously knew something he didn’t.

  He snorted. Of course Sathis knew something he didn’t. The warrior knew a lot of things he didn’t, and he probably had a point. Erich’s life would be filled with suspicion and short if he returned to the Empire. He no longer had a unit to support himself, and being the only survivor of a mission where an elf died wasn’t likely to endear him to his superiors.

  Instead, Erich pulled back to contemplate his condition. He wasn’t completely recovered, and he could feel a strange sinking feeling, like his body was becoming slower and heavier by the second, but other than that he was in surprisingly good shape. The short conversation with Sathis had improved his mood and let him shake off the worst of the malaise that had set in after his image had been destroyed. Theoretically he could try to wait for the ache in his muscles to go away, but it didn’t seem like more time would help. Rather, with each passing second his body felt like it was growing weaker.

  “As ready as I will be,” Erich replied. “Everything feels strange, but I don’t think that it's something that waiting for another hour will fix.”

  “Disassociation,” Sathis said with a nod. “I am suffering from it too, but to a lesser extent. Ordinary humans can function without an image, but once you inscribe one into your soul you become dependent on it. The image becomes the core of your being, the direction toward which all of your energy flows. That is why martial artists and mages are able to use mana. Our images and mana wells fundamentally change who we are as they connect us into the primal magic that powers the worlds. Unfortunately, without that connection we are disconnected and set adrift. Many fade and die, but for the ‘lucky’ few, their minds become completely disconnected from their bodies. Over time you will lose the ability to feel anything. Slowly, your senses will dim and your body will become an empty puppet. The isolation and emptiness will drive you mad even if the pain doesn’t.”

  “Cheerful,” Eric responded with a shudder. “Incredibly uplifting. If you reincarnate, you should consider a career as a bard. I’m sure your tales would warm the hearts of children.”

  “On Cinder,” Sathis replied with a sly smile, “the children are warm enough. Cooling off is the real problem. But that is enough banter for now.”

  “Erich,” the cinderborn continued. “Please give me your hand and try to focus on your new image. Describe it for me slowly. I can feel the shape of it through your body, but it is impossible to see specifics and guide you with just that.”

  He nodded, extending his arm to Sathis. The martial artist took his wrist, placing his middle and index finger on Erich’s forearms so that he could measure the human’s pulse.

  Erich closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. The air seemed strange to him. Cold and dull without any scent despite the slowly rotting bodies in the stairwell.

  His memory triggered a spike of agony as he traveled back to his time hiking. He could feel the holes in his psyche where the green river had been, aching like a tooth that had been pulled.

  “I am on a hillside.” It almost felt like someone else was speaking as he described the moment. “I have just finished setting up camp and a rainstorm has blown in. I should stay in my tent, but for some reason I don’t. I walk out into the rain, toward a rocky crag that overlooks the hillside.”

  “Good,” Sathis said gently. “I can feel the image beginning to settle in. I am leaking aether from my wounds in the battle. It is flowing down my arm and toward you. Take the trickle of energy in as you describe the moment, let it help solidify your image.”

  Warmth began to flow up Erich’s arm. It wasn’t mana. Mana was energy that a martial artist could use in the moment. It was light and free, like a liquid that he could freely circulate and move around his body.

  This was something heavier. More solid. Aether was the building block that a martial artist used to solidify and sharpen their image. It couldn’t be used to power a technique, but it was what generated the mana that was used in techniques. More importantly, it was the substance that allowed a martial artist to advance tiers.

  Erich had never heard of aether being transferred. Maybe it was possible but most martial artists were too jealous of their achievements to permanently weaken themselves by giving their aether to another. Maybe there was something special about their circumstances. Either way, he wasn’t going to question the situation too hard. Every second the cinderborn’s power ‘tricked’ in was like a week of ordinary training.

  “A gust of wind blows through,” he continued, his voice distant as he focused on the memory. “It opens up a hole in the clouds and I can see the stars through the gap. They’re beautiful, cold and crystal clear. Then, lightning strikes the forest. A flash of light that illuminates everything before the pine trees begin to burn.”

  He could feel the aether settling into him. With each word Erich spoke, the scene felt more and more real, like it was transforming from a memory into a miniature world. He could almost feel the water on his skin and the scent of the pruning pine trees.

  “The wildfire is spreading rapidly,” he whispered, eyes still screwed shut. “Lighting flashes in the sky, jumping from one cloud to another, and somehow the stars are still visible. I am right there in the middle of everything, and I feel alive. More alive than I ever have. Colors are more vibrant, I can feel the warmth of the soup I had for dinner sinking deep into my stomach. My family and the troubles from back in town are gone, they don’t even exist. Right now it is just the storm and me.”

  “Tell me about the stars, Erich,” Sathis replied. For the first time since meeting him, the cinderborn sounded old and tired. “Describe them.”

  “They’re high above me, perfectly clear as they hang in the sky like a web of diamonds. There aren’t clouds to obscure them but the rising smoke from the fire is passing in front of them, causing them to glitter. They’re beautiful. If it weren’t for everything else, I could stare at them forever and get lost in them.”

  The sky sharpened, reaching a level of clarity that Erich had never experienced with the Green River. Then, it froze, fully solidified by the aether flowing into him.

  “Intermediate light affinity,” Sathis mused. “Now describe the trees. Tell me about them.”

  “They stretch out as far as the eye can see in either direction. In the distance, I can see the lights of Burrwood nestled in between the pines, but other than that they are a jagged green carpet covering everything.”

  Once again the image snapped into focus, warmth pulsing deep within Erich’s chest.

  “Intermediate life affinity,” Sathis replied. “Now describe the fire, leave no detail out.”

  “It’s everywhere,” Erich whispered. “Leaping from one tree to the next, ignoring the rain as it consumes the entire forest. Twisting and flapping in the air like a banner in the wind. The lightning gave birth to it, but the flames have taken on a life of their own. Without the rain pouring down it will spread beyond the forest, consuming the hillside I’m on in a matter of hours. Burrwood. The plains beyond. Everything will be nothing but softly falling ash.”

  “Supreme fire affinity,” Sathis said with a low chuckle. “Same as me. No surprise there. I could sense it from the moment we first touched. Almost impossible to find in a cinderborn let alone a human, but the aether doesn’t lie. Now describe the lightning.”

  Erich opened his eyes. He didn’t use words. He didn’t need to. The lightning inside him flashed, sending an electric thrill through his body. For a brief second, he could see inside Sathis. He could see the cinderborn’s silhouette, meditating in a lotus position next to a lava flow beneath an erupting volcano.

  The shadowy form that represented his master was cracked. Red light oozed from it like blood, and Erich instinctively knew it was the red hot aether he was drinking in. He reached out with one hand pointing at the silhouette. Their eyes met, and Sathis’ face froze with shock.

  A spark jumped from his finger, carrying that one perfect moment where the lightning connected the earth and sky.

  It touched Sathis, and suddenly Erich was back in his own body. The storm roiled overhead, a dark backdrop for the expansive forest fire rampaging below. The image was as solid and real as the rocks beneath his legs. He took a deep breath and felt mana flow into him from the scene.

  It was rich and heady, smelling vaguely of smoke as it rushed through his body energizing him and repairing the damage from the destruction of his previous image in a matter of seconds.

  “I… don’t know what your affinity is in lightning,” Sathis said shakily. “It’s higher than your talent for fire, and supreme is supposed to be as high as the scale goes.”

  “What does that mean?” Erich asked. “A week ago I thought that elements were only a concern for mages when they learned new circles. Now you’ve spent half a day talking about talent levels and affinities and I’m just as lost trying to follow you as I would be if I wandered out into the dark.”

  “I don’t really know” Sathis answered with a helpless shrug. “It seems good though?”