A pile of twigs and dry grass stood at the height of a 5-year-old. As for the grass, he took some from the bales piled up in the barn. Surely that old man wouldn't mind, right? Afterall, he was doing this only because he had been instructed to do so. This wouldn't cost him extra, right?
He struck two flint stones together, but only a single spark was produced. He frowned. How many thousands of times had he done this in the past? He struck again. His frown grew deeper. The third strike was successful, causing more sparks to fly. They landed in a bundle of grass he had specially fluffed up for them. There was a glimmer from the bundle. He bent closer and blew. Gently, gently. His breaths were long and careful, but surprisingly today, his breath shook slightly. There was smoke, then the bundle lit. Within seconds, the whole pile of twigs was burning. He pushed himself up from the ground. His hands quivered but he chose to ignore it.
He pulled off the clothes he was wearing. These had already been with him for months. The token Jihon gave him was held tightly in this hand. The heat from the flames washed over him. It seemed to gather on the cruel scars scattered on his body. He felt it pierce the thick, ugly slashes on his chest and thighs, the vicious stab scars on his arms, the thin line on his neck. He sighed. His movements slow, he threw the rags into the fire.
The flames danced gleefully, as they crawled over his clothes, swallowing them greedily. He didn't notice it, but he started to breathe faster. Those were more than just his clothes burning. He could see the years of shame being consumed by the flame. Even though these were clothes he had stolen after he had escaped, they still carried the memory of his enslavement. 'Burn!' he thought. 'Burn!' As if responding to him, the flames jumped higher.
The smoke rose in a straight column, carrying a thousand burning bits of grass with it. The flame burned furiously, as if it knew its life would be short. It consumed the grass, the twigs and the rags. Its hungry tongues licked everything.
Ben's eyes glazed over. He was no longer seeing the fire before him. No. His eyes looked at a different scene. He was back 7 years in the past. His heart was pounding fearfully, Laysa felt heavy in his small arms. His legs were shaking.
"Run!" it was his mother's voice. She was shouting at him to leave. He stubbornly looked at the baby in his arms, then back at her. He felt he couldn't leave her. Wasn't she going to come as well? Even if she yelled, he wouldn't leave. Father promised he would return. He had told him to watch over his mother and sister until he came back. Then he saw the tears in her eyes. "Ben, Run!" she pleaded. His heart quivered; his mind shook. This was different. He had to leave. His legs carried him out of the house, through the back door, into the night.
His arms tightened around his screaming sister. She was frightened by all the noise. She wanted her mommy. "Protect your sister!" he remembered his Father order him. He held her tighter. He wanted his mother as well. He ran. Away from danger. Towards the forest. The darkness in the trees frightened him, yet he had to be brave. He wanted his dad. He could hear crazed shouting and screaming of battle behind him. 'Dad will keep the village safe. He promised.' He convinced himself as he ran faster. He wouldn't dare look.
Then the night suddenly brightened. He looked back and froze. A column of fire, over 30 meters tall, roared as it rose into the sky. The thatched roofs on the nearby houses burst into flames. A thick earthen shield was raised from the ground in response. It cast a dark shadow as it blocked the advance of the fire. 'Father!' Ben recognized the technique, hope glimmered in his eyes. Then another column of flame rose, this time behind the earthen shield. He thought he heard his mother scream. The shield fell and the ground trembled as it cracked. Both columns of fire expanded outwards, swallowing the village. Ben looked on with terror. The slaughter had started.
"Grey Cloud chiefdom!" he spoke the name as if it were a curse. He would make them pay.
The rags were completely burnt up. His task was done.
Ben breathed out deliberately as he walked to the well. The firelight lit his exposed back, revealing the numerous long crisscrossing scars on it. The hideous patterns told of the harsh punishments he had suffered. The image of the well, with its neatly built circular stone wall and a beautiful red tiled roof, was completely wasted on him today. A few wooden buckets were conveniently arranged nearby. He filled one with water and carried it to the nearby bathhouse.
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Ben sat down cross legged in his tiny room. He had changed into his fresh clothes. The strong brown trousers felt loose around his waist. He would have to work on regaining his weight after this forced fast. He wore a thick woolen jersey above a tough cream shirt. He held one of the scrolls he had received from Jihon excitedly in his hands. 'Just what is written on these?' he wondered. With a careful movement of his hand, he opened it.
The scroll was written with tiny characters, some of them similar to text from the ancient eras. It took some effort to read, but Ben persevered. It was an essence cultivation manual. According to it, there were unending branches of Essence Cultivation, but they usually stressed the importance of the basic ability to sense Essence.
As such, the first section of the scroll mentioned a technique to sense Essence. He followed the breathing technique that was recorded in the scroll. It was supposed to aid in focusing his mind and making it more aware of the Magical Energy flowing in the environment.
After making no progress for over 30 minutes, he paused and re-read the Essence sensing technique's instructions. He closed his eyes again and focused on his breathing, adjusting the things he thought he had been doing wrongly. Another 30 minutes passed by without any progress. This was strange. He was sure that after experiencing the test with the Demonic Bear's flesh in the forest, he would have had an easier time sensing Essence. But then again, the breathing technique was quite different. He remembered the flow of energy he felt on his forehead when Jihon demonstrated it for him. Another hour slowly passed, and Ben only gained more disappointment.
He felt exhausted from the mental strain. Adjusting his posture, he took the second scroll and opened it instead. Surely, there was no point hitting his head against that unyielding rock when better opportunity might be found in this one, right?
The second scroll was a basic introduction to Magic Techniques. Magic generally relied on Essence as fuel. However, the requirements for performing even the most basic Magic Technique mentioned in the scroll, an insignificant water manipulation technique, were a rank F essence sensory ability and rank F essence manipulation ability. Then one was required to comprehend certain strange mystical concepts. Ben felt his head hurt just reading through this list. In the first place he was not even sure what rank F ability meant. Sure, he knew that ranks existed and were regularly used to describe things such as combat ability. He had heard that a regular soldier who was unable to use Essence, after being trained for 10 years in the military and through actual combat, could attain a combat strength of rank E when fully armed. But combat strength seemed easier for him to comprehend compared to something as unfamiliar as Essence Sensory ability. Maybe it would have been better for him to have received a martial art scroll. That would certainly be easier to visualize.
He closed the Magic Technique scroll. He would probably have to master the techniques mentioned in the Essence Cultivation scroll before he could hope to learn the Magic Technique scroll. He sighed in disappointment.
His stomach growled with hunger. It surely had been a while since he had eaten. He retrieved the healing salve Master Forbes had given him and opened it. A gentle herbal aroma reached his nose. Tilting the container carefully, he swallowed a third of its contents. The cool liquid slid down his throat, comfortably settling in his belly. He closed the clay container, his tongue savoring the faint aftertaste, much better than the horrible paste Jihon had made him swallow in the forest. This old man was worlds better than that useless freak.
'I guess it is time I slept' he told himself. His eyes scanned the tiny room, trying to figure out exactly how he would have to fold his body in order for him to lie down. Maybe the old man wanted him to sleep on his feet? He shook his head, placing a double layered straw mat beneath him. He covered it with a heavy woolen blanket. 'Strange' he thought as his hand rubbed his stomach.
He could feel an unnatural coolness spreading in his belly. Then a thought struck him. Once again, he sat with his legs crossed and began to regulate his breathing, his mind shifting with the rhythm as instructed by the scroll. He focused on his stomach, feeling beyond the cool sensation, he searched. 'There it is!' he was surprised but he quickly calmed his heart, focusing even more deeply. Yes, he could sense it. His mind was drawn into that familiar and unsettling sensation. 'This is…' a sense of fear crept up in his heart, 'this is… the chaotic Essence from the Demonic Bear!'