Story I wrote a long time ago
This is an excerpt from a story I wrote a long time ago. It's fantasy in genre, and this has little to do with the plot. This scene is only a depiction of how hard their journey is. Basically what you need to know is that there's a group of people called the fire-born. It's kind of like the One Power, but not.
The next day Ciaran woke to find Aradia searching the sky. It was blue, but there was a tingling in the air that told him a storm was coming. Silently coming up behind her he, too, studied the sky. Without turning her head Aradia spoke to him.
"There will be a great storm today. I sense that it will not be easy to stay our course. The only way to travel further today is to go by boat. I do not dare risk waiting for this storm to pass, for we may be trapped here for days."
"How did you know I was behind you?" Ciaran was stunned she had noticed his presence when even the best of hunters back home would not have heard his coming.
Aradia smiled, her eyes still searching the seemingly harmless sky. "We started focusing your energy last night simply by telling you more about who and what you are. You are becoming attuned to the Fire, which makes me able to feel you from here." Without moving her eyes she placed her hand squarely on his chest, over his heart. "The Fire grows stronger within you. Soon you, too, will be able to feel the presence of another fire-born."
Aradia guided them to a bend in the river where a boat made of rough-cut wood and pitch was stored under a wooden awning. Her kinsman had used this place to cross the river for generations. They loaded their few belongings into the boat and sent the horse home. She had made the journey several times and would have no trouble finding her way back to Glencarnagh.
The water was clear as glass and the current was swift. Aradia felt a coiling of fear low in her stomach looking at it. "There is something not right here, Ciaran," she said. "Something will happen if we do not move swiftly."
Ciaran said nothing, only guided the boat with a long pole drifting in the river's current. Something made him keep looking back into the clear sky. An uneasy prickling had begun on the back of his neck, making his hair stand on end. The third time he looked back, where once there was a clear sky, dark, boiling clouds were massing. He pushed the pole into the river's bed, but to no avail. The clouds moved unnaturally quickly, leaving no chance of escape. The clouds amassed like an army, grumbling loudly in pursuit as it gained both speed and power. Birds were no longer flying overhead, and he could see no living creature on either side of the bank. They were alone in this battle, it seemed.
He jumped when thunder pealed above them, beating a staccato rhythm. Sheets of rain came down in torrents, blinding them from the outside world. Ciaran could barely make out the figure of Aradia two feet in front of him.
"Aradia, we must get to shore! The storm is out of control!" He had to shout in order to be heard. Lighting exploded above them and for an instant Ciaran could see everything around him. He could see the clouds stretching for miles in each direction. He could see the fear--and determination--in Aradia's eyes.
Aradia nodded and shouted something back, but the wind snatched her words away before they could reach his ears. He was leaning forward so he could hear what she said when the boat struck a rock in the river.
Ciaran pitched forward into the water and felt a stabbing pain at his temple. Blood flowed into his eyes and water into his mouth as he struggled for a handhold. He went under, the strong current pushing him away from the relative safety of the rock or the boat. His only option now was to swim to one of the banks. That meant stay above the water and swim across the current. The wound in his head was making him dizzy. He kicked, trying to stay afloat. He got one breath above the surface before the water dragged him under again. The pain in his head was excruciating. He struggled, trying to resurface. There was a burning sensation in his chest that he could not stifle. It grew worse with each passing second, making it nearly impossible for him to move. Struggling against the weight of his boots and cloak, he kicked hard, willing himself to the surface. The burning in his lungs was growing steadily worse. He needed to breathe. He was on fire. The water around him was blissfully cool. So cool and welcoming. If only he could rest for a moment he would be fine. He forgot why he was struggling, why he was fighting off the welcoming waters of his kinsmen. He relaxed and sighed, sinking into darkness.
Aradia tried to grab Ciaran when he fell into the river, but the current carried her too far downstream. Slinging her bedroll over her shoulder she dove into the river behind him. She heard her father's voice in her head as if he were there. "Lass, you cannot let the Fire die with us. Once you find another with the spark, risk your very life to ignite it."
She reached Ciaran just as he was sinking into the river and caught his arm. Pulling his head above the water, she struggled towards the eastern shore, fighting the storm with each stroke. Ciaran was heavy, making Aradia's struggle more difficult. Three times she almost went under herself, but she refused to give up, keeping her father's face emblazoned in her mind. Her legs became weights, each kick a trial. Ciaran was a limp weight on her back, making her wonder if her efforts were for naught. She pushed the thought away with each stroke, willing him to make it.
Finally she reached the eastern bank. She shoved Ciaran on the wet grass and hauled herself out of the icy waters. She pounded on Ciaran's chest over and over, waiting for the tell-tale gush of water to come out of his mouth. Finally remembering, she turned his head and pushed again. A gush of river left him, but he stayed unconscious. By this time she was shivering uncontrollably. She knew she had to find shelter or they would perish, yet it seemed her body had lost the will to follow her mind's instructions. Closing her eyes, she focused all her energy inward, towards the fire that was inside her. She coaxed it into waking up, growing larger. Breathing evenly in and out, she watched as the fire inside her became brighter until she was able to open her eyes and force her body into obeying her. She stood up and stumbled forward, looking for anything that might resemble shelter.
The gods must have been smiling upon them because Aradia had not gone more than thirty paces before she came across a cave. The mouth was big enough to shuffle through and when she crawled inside she discovered that it opened up into a large, dry room. There were shelves cut into it with oilskin pouches, and a pit that looked as though many a fire had been burned inside it. Quickly she crawled back out and made her way back to Ciaran.
He was still breathing, for which she was thankful. The difficult part would be getting him into the cave. The thirty paces she had thought so close now seemed as though they might have been thirty leagues for all the good it did her. She was swaying on her feet from the effort of carrying him through the water. Somehow she had to find the strength to get him to shelter.
She managed to get him onto her back with only three tries. Grimly she took a step forward, then another. Another still. She filled her mind with the next step, not thinking beyond that. It was all that mattered.
After what seemed like hours but was likely minutes, she got him to the mouth of the cave. Gently laying him back down, Aradia crawled backwards into the cave, dragging Ciaran in by his shoulders. Once they were inside she undid her bedroll and moved him to it. Making sure he was still breathing, she went to a corner of the cave, hoping to find wood. She was lucky and found some tucked away in a nook farthest from the entrance. She was right, then, and this was used by travelers frequently. Gathering an armful she walked back to the front of the cave and arranged the wood. With but a thought she had a fire burning hot and bright. Finally, she turned to Ciaran to assess his wounds.
When the firelight fell on him Aradia gasped. Blood covered his head, contrasting greatly with the pallid color of his face. A large lump was forming on the right side of his head where he had hit the rock. Worst of all was the rattle in his lungs. Her exertions had taken close to two hours, but already he was burning with fever...
The next day Ciaran woke to find Aradia searching the sky. It was blue, but there was a tingling in the air that told him a storm was coming. Silently coming up behind her he, too, studied the sky. Without turning her head Aradia spoke to him.
"There will be a great storm today. I sense that it will not be easy to stay our course. The only way to travel further today is to go by boat. I do not dare risk waiting for this storm to pass, for we may be trapped here for days."
"How did you know I was behind you?" Ciaran was stunned she had noticed his presence when even the best of hunters back home would not have heard his coming.
Aradia smiled, her eyes still searching the seemingly harmless sky. "We started focusing your energy last night simply by telling you more about who and what you are. You are becoming attuned to the Fire, which makes me able to feel you from here." Without moving her eyes she placed her hand squarely on his chest, over his heart. "The Fire grows stronger within you. Soon you, too, will be able to feel the presence of another fire-born."
Aradia guided them to a bend in the river where a boat made of rough-cut wood and pitch was stored under a wooden awning. Her kinsman had used this place to cross the river for generations. They loaded their few belongings into the boat and sent the horse home. She had made the journey several times and would have no trouble finding her way back to Glencarnagh.
The water was clear as glass and the current was swift. Aradia felt a coiling of fear low in her stomach looking at it. "There is something not right here, Ciaran," she said. "Something will happen if we do not move swiftly."
Ciaran said nothing, only guided the boat with a long pole drifting in the river's current. Something made him keep looking back into the clear sky. An uneasy prickling had begun on the back of his neck, making his hair stand on end. The third time he looked back, where once there was a clear sky, dark, boiling clouds were massing. He pushed the pole into the river's bed, but to no avail. The clouds moved unnaturally quickly, leaving no chance of escape. The clouds amassed like an army, grumbling loudly in pursuit as it gained both speed and power. Birds were no longer flying overhead, and he could see no living creature on either side of the bank. They were alone in this battle, it seemed.
He jumped when thunder pealed above them, beating a staccato rhythm. Sheets of rain came down in torrents, blinding them from the outside world. Ciaran could barely make out the figure of Aradia two feet in front of him.
"Aradia, we must get to shore! The storm is out of control!" He had to shout in order to be heard. Lighting exploded above them and for an instant Ciaran could see everything around him. He could see the clouds stretching for miles in each direction. He could see the fear--and determination--in Aradia's eyes.
Aradia nodded and shouted something back, but the wind snatched her words away before they could reach his ears. He was leaning forward so he could hear what she said when the boat struck a rock in the river.
Ciaran pitched forward into the water and felt a stabbing pain at his temple. Blood flowed into his eyes and water into his mouth as he struggled for a handhold. He went under, the strong current pushing him away from the relative safety of the rock or the boat. His only option now was to swim to one of the banks. That meant stay above the water and swim across the current. The wound in his head was making him dizzy. He kicked, trying to stay afloat. He got one breath above the surface before the water dragged him under again. The pain in his head was excruciating. He struggled, trying to resurface. There was a burning sensation in his chest that he could not stifle. It grew worse with each passing second, making it nearly impossible for him to move. Struggling against the weight of his boots and cloak, he kicked hard, willing himself to the surface. The burning in his lungs was growing steadily worse. He needed to breathe. He was on fire. The water around him was blissfully cool. So cool and welcoming. If only he could rest for a moment he would be fine. He forgot why he was struggling, why he was fighting off the welcoming waters of his kinsmen. He relaxed and sighed, sinking into darkness.
Aradia tried to grab Ciaran when he fell into the river, but the current carried her too far downstream. Slinging her bedroll over her shoulder she dove into the river behind him. She heard her father's voice in her head as if he were there. "Lass, you cannot let the Fire die with us. Once you find another with the spark, risk your very life to ignite it."
She reached Ciaran just as he was sinking into the river and caught his arm. Pulling his head above the water, she struggled towards the eastern shore, fighting the storm with each stroke. Ciaran was heavy, making Aradia's struggle more difficult. Three times she almost went under herself, but she refused to give up, keeping her father's face emblazoned in her mind. Her legs became weights, each kick a trial. Ciaran was a limp weight on her back, making her wonder if her efforts were for naught. She pushed the thought away with each stroke, willing him to make it.
Finally she reached the eastern bank. She shoved Ciaran on the wet grass and hauled herself out of the icy waters. She pounded on Ciaran's chest over and over, waiting for the tell-tale gush of water to come out of his mouth. Finally remembering, she turned his head and pushed again. A gush of river left him, but he stayed unconscious. By this time she was shivering uncontrollably. She knew she had to find shelter or they would perish, yet it seemed her body had lost the will to follow her mind's instructions. Closing her eyes, she focused all her energy inward, towards the fire that was inside her. She coaxed it into waking up, growing larger. Breathing evenly in and out, she watched as the fire inside her became brighter until she was able to open her eyes and force her body into obeying her. She stood up and stumbled forward, looking for anything that might resemble shelter.
The gods must have been smiling upon them because Aradia had not gone more than thirty paces before she came across a cave. The mouth was big enough to shuffle through and when she crawled inside she discovered that it opened up into a large, dry room. There were shelves cut into it with oilskin pouches, and a pit that looked as though many a fire had been burned inside it. Quickly she crawled back out and made her way back to Ciaran.
He was still breathing, for which she was thankful. The difficult part would be getting him into the cave. The thirty paces she had thought so close now seemed as though they might have been thirty leagues for all the good it did her. She was swaying on her feet from the effort of carrying him through the water. Somehow she had to find the strength to get him to shelter.
She managed to get him onto her back with only three tries. Grimly she took a step forward, then another. Another still. She filled her mind with the next step, not thinking beyond that. It was all that mattered.
After what seemed like hours but was likely minutes, she got him to the mouth of the cave. Gently laying him back down, Aradia crawled backwards into the cave, dragging Ciaran in by his shoulders. Once they were inside she undid her bedroll and moved him to it. Making sure he was still breathing, she went to a corner of the cave, hoping to find wood. She was lucky and found some tucked away in a nook farthest from the entrance. She was right, then, and this was used by travelers frequently. Gathering an armful she walked back to the front of the cave and arranged the wood. With but a thought she had a fire burning hot and bright. Finally, she turned to Ciaran to assess his wounds.
When the firelight fell on him Aradia gasped. Blood covered his head, contrasting greatly with the pallid color of his face. A large lump was forming on the right side of his head where he had hit the rock. Worst of all was the rattle in his lungs. Her exertions had taken close to two hours, but already he was burning with fever...