The spirit slammed its elbow onto my head, and stars crossed my vision. Its stomach loosened, and my arm started to slip free, but before I could pull it out, the ash spirit grabbed me by the shoulders and flung me through the air. I crashed into a tree, and flaming debris shook loose from its branches. Fragments of fire rained down around me before they turned to black powder on the ground.
I groaned, pushed myself up onto my knees, and brushed off cinders from my robes. The spirit approached with the slow, unstoppable speed of an advancing forest fire. I used a tree for support and stood to face it again.
This time, I went for many blows instead of a big one. My fists and feet flew as I struck to the right and left. Sometimes, I slipped through the spirit’s guard, and other times, my attacks were blocked by its arms. Every hit felt the same as that first one, ash-flesh giving way beneath me, all force lost as it absorbed the strike. I was careful to pull my hands free quickly whenever a fist plunged into its ashen body so that the spirit couldn’t ensnare my limbs as it’d done before.
I saw the next attack coming and ducked clear as a night-black fist swung at my head. It hit the tree behind me and created a spray of charred bark and flying embers.
I clearly couldn’t beat the ash spirit through sheer strength, nor could I use my Augmentation abilities since my Vigor channels were closed off in this world. The conflagration around me had already helped me kill the two other spirits, but I doubted a creature who could shift the molecules on its body would die from head trauma or impalement.
As I blocked the creature’s strikes, I raced for some means of stopping it. My energy was quickly running out, and I could only dodge and counter its blows for a little longer.
The ash spirit shifted its form like a cloud of insects when I punched, only to regather as a solid form behind me. I whirled around around and cracked it in the side with a roundhouse kick, but it faded into nothingness again before materializing to my left. My every attack was absorbed, and I started to wonder whether I’d ever land a blow.
I continued my futile attacks as a thought entered my mind. I recalled the core inside the corpses of the two spirits that had created this one. Could this one also have a core? I decided to test my theory by aiming a punch where the spirit’s heart should have been. My fist plunged into its chest, and my hand collided with something hard. The ash spirit pummelled my stomach with blows, and I gritted my teeth as I opened my hand and grabbed onto the object inside its chest. The ash spirit screamed as I ripped my hand free of its body.
The elemental creature faded like sand in the wind as I raised the magical core high into the air. Then, as suddenly as feeling its first touch, the core shattered in my hands.
The ash around me burst apart, like a smoke cloud scattered on the wind. I fell to the ground and panted for breath.
The world faded around me, and I found myself sitting in the Ember Cavern with the sword in my lap, untouched by ash.
“Clever boy,” Nydarth said. “Now, open the path.”
I took a breath and let it fill my chest. It tasted of smoke and of loss.
The ash core beat in time with my heart as power ran out from its center and filled the sunburst channel across the front of my body. The rush of Vigor lifted me up and made me forget my weariness and my pains. A sweet surge of nothingness, both soothing and refreshing.
Then, the air was full of lights that cascaded around me like rain from a clear sky. My body thrummed with excitement, my every nerve tingled, and my every sense was on edge.
The ash path was mine.
Chapter Nineteen
That winter was like a femme fatale—icy cold, stunningly beautiful, and carrying the constant threat of death. Snow fell in great swathes across the mountain, pastures, and wilderness alike. Some days, the wind screamed in out of the north and howled around the guild house like a furious beast as the shutters and rooftops trembled. On other days, the snow fell slow and silent from a still sky before it piled up on treetops and battlements. The whole world became a featureless white expanse.
Only one place seemed untouched by winter—the exposed plateau in front of the Radiant Dragon Guild. There, the eternally burning pillar of fire melted away any traces of frost, ice, or snow. Flakes falling around it evaporated in an instant, vanishing like a rabbit up the sleeve of a stage magician. During the heavy downfalls, it was surrounded by a constant hiss of snow becoming steam.
Throughout, I kept training alongside my fellow initiates. The masters were relentless in their pursuit of excellence and showed no mercy for how the others shivered or struggled to get out of bed with our breath frosting in the dark, dormitory air. I was the only one who didn’t complain. I had mastered a combination element, and I wielded a legendary sword. Much like the flaming pillar on the plateau, the harsh conditions couldn’t extinguish my spirit.
Throughout that time, our movements were restricted to the guild house and its immediate environment. There were no more trips to the Ember Cavern or even to the slopes around it, where initiates might be tempted to go looking for stray fire beasts. As the initiates’ frustration mounted, they protested at the limits imposed upon them, limits to their power as well as their freedom. If they couldn’t go to
