The Chase

The wintry night was frosty, the cobblestone beneath Elwin's bare feet slippery and unforgiving, his pajamas drenched with night mist and puddle-gunk. But still he ran and ran after the thief, amidst the rows upon rows of houses and little-rises, down the many steps to the harborside, along the stretches of concrete dockyards flanked on the left by gloomy buildings and to the right by a canal, illuminated only by the dim streetlights. He was faster than anyone Elwin had ever chased until that point; the haggard thief galloped mid-air almost as if riding the wind, unkempt hair ruffling out back, but there was no way that Elwin was going to give up on the chase. That man was holding what was perhaps the last memento of his precious father, and after what they've all been through, this was something Elwin could not afford to lose.

Elwin's lungs were raw with heaving breath. Yet, he was inching closer. The man was about to run through a huge puddle; seizing the chance, Elwin froze it all, hands outstretched, icicles crackling and popping over the gaps in the cobblestone as it raced to the feet of the man. The instantaneousness with which Elwin performed the feat surprised both Elwin and the thief; before the man knew it, his right boot was trapped in a berg of ice. And in that split second the momentum of his run had faltered, Elwin was on top of him, reaching immediately for the package. The man fumbled it behind his back, crumpling the thick cardboard; Elwin yanked his arm towards him, but the man punched Elwin hard across the face with pressurized wind, nearly flinging off his eyewrap; stars swam in his vision as the man tried to stand up and run again, but Elwin latched all of his body across the man's legs, making him tumble again. The man lifted them both some way into the air with a gust from below, and twisted his legs out of his grasp, but Elwin hung from his tattered cloak and pulled him down, freezing its ends to join with the puddle below so he couldn't run; desperate, the man broke off a piece of ice and swung wildly at Elwin's legs. Elwin dodged those blows the best he could, and he threw a fistful of water into the man's eyes, which allowed him to close the distance and grab his hair, but the man headbutted him, drawing blood on Elwin's already bruised nose. Elwin tried to chomp on the man's hand, but the man kneed him in the stomach, and Elwin fell to the cold hard ice, the man was about to run off with the package again –

When with almost a soundless grace, a figure draped in navy-black dropped from the sky between them both. The mysterious figure, with a single motion of water, pried the package away from the man's grip and placed it in his own, deflecting the thief's gusts of wind with a deft coordination of steam and mist, knocking the man off his feet and onto the pavement.

"I believe this is yours," announced the figure of mystery, as he placed the package in Elwin's hands. The figure's voice was gentle, that of a young man, coming from a navy mask studded with specks of faintly glowing stars that obscured the left half of his face.

The thief lunged at the figure, intending to maim him, kick him down, but Elwin watched in cautious amazement as the figure stepped aside and dodged his uncoordinated attacks as if it was child's play; with a tendril of water he caught the man's fist in front of his mask, and conjuring an enormous fist of frost from the misty air, delivered three precise blows to the thief's belly, chest, and knee, making him reel, gasping for breath upon the ground.

The figure commanded, his voice low and consular.

"Who sends you? Why assail this boy?"

The thief sputtered back, bewildered.

"No 'un! A' swear, A' swear, A' swear," he begged, rubbing his hands in a prayer. "Was just a guest at the boy's little Inn. Was sleeping, and the wall freakin' 'sploded on me. That thing dropped from it. Made me look like a thief. A' ran because a' was scared outta ma' wits, and the boy ended up chasing me."

"He was a guest?" the figure inquired, glancing briefly to Elwin.

Elwin stammered. "Y-yeah."

"What kind of guest steals from their host?"

"A' swear upon the FOUNDERS, a' meant no harm," the thief spluttered back. "A' was asleep, then a' heard the loudest noise a've ever heard, and there was hole in the wall, that thing on floor," he rambled, pointing to the package in Elwin's hand. "A' thought, 'what should a' do?' Then the boy and the innkeeper entered and saw me, thinking a' did all of that. A' didn't know how to explain. So a' ran. Please, please don't turn me in to the Order."

The figure looked unconvinced.

"Ya – ya've gotta be in ma' shoes! Ya think they'd have believed me if a' said the wall 'sploded on its own? They would've looked at me all crazy!" the thief stammered, trying his hardest to persuade.

Elwin thought to himself that the frizzled man could have run without the package, but...

"You could have run without it," the mysterious figure declared. "Why not?"

The thief hastily pulled his pockets out, revealing nothing but lint and grains of dust.

"Spent last of me money at the Inn. Nowhere to go tomorrow or anything to eat after. Said to meself, at least a' can pawn whatever's in that package. Better than leaving empty-handed. A' know 'twas a wrong thing to do. A' know. But please. Please don't turn me in."

"Your Maht is Ayu, correct?"

"Ayu? Yes – yes, yes, ma' Maht is Air. Ayu."

The mysterious figure was quiet. The thief's breaths steadied from a huff to a pant.

"You speak the truth," he declared to the thief. "But before you may leave –"

The thief raised his hands to shield his face, but quickly caught the glint of some silver coins tossed his way, and opened his palms to catch them.

"Ten Denaros, more than enough to get yourself a day's meal and a tram ticket down south. The Southwestern dockyards are full of ships that arrive from the Empire this time of year. The foreman there said he needed some spare hands, perhaps an apprentice, and he doesn't ask questions about those hands. Do what you will with these pieces," the figure spoke coolly to the frizzled man.

The haggard man clapped his hands together in thanks. "Thank ya – thank ya. Y'er a blessing of MANASURA indeed."

Elwin and the mysterious figure watched in silence as the haggard man hurriedly jogged down that empty, dimly-lit seaside dock until he disappeared from view.

"Are you hurt?" The figure spoke.

"Wha – I..." Elwin mumbled, massaging his forehead. "No, um, just a bit. How could you be sure that the man was telling the truth?"

"His Maht is Air, which allows him to manipulate sound. Had he wished to steal from you since the very beginning, he could have very well done it while not making a single noise at all, and slipped out the front door. There is no reason for him to have chosen a ruckus."

Elwin recalled the time his father's voice shook the ocean and the Marlin King above the sound of frenzied waves.

"But what if he was lying about his Maht?"

"That's why I asked him by its traditional name."

"Traditional name?"

"Ayu. He would've been hard-pressed to know what I was talking about unless his Maht was truly Air."

Elwin was thoroughly impressed. The mysterious figure not only protected Elwin with effortless grace, but also cleaved truth from chaos with just a single question.

He looked to Elwin's drenched pajamas and its empty pockets.

"You must be cold. Need help getting back to your place?"

Elwin was about to say no, but he looked around his surroundings and found himself in a strangely unfamiliar neighborhood. This wasn't the dock where he and his father used to set off in search of marlins. He must have chased the thief for ages.

"Yeah."

"Where?"

To that Elwin wasn't sure whether to reply – he'd only just met this figure, after all. And even though he defended him from the thief, the enigma he exuded made Elwin wary. The figure looked at Elwin once and immediately surmised the boy's thoughts.

"I don't need your precise address. Just your neighborhood will do."

Yes, with that, Elwin could find his way back.

"Panascent Junction. The violet tram stop."

"Hold onto my back."

With the package tucked into his chest, Elwin clambered up the figure's back, who was taller than him, his lean body surprisingly sturdy and muscular underneath the cape and robes of navy black. 

How old is this person? Elwin wondered, as the figure stretched his left arm to a building, unfurling his sleeve to reveal a glittering Quan of luminescent blue. His father once told him that only a few were given the license to own a Quan, because they accentuated the person's control over the Arts, many times dangerously so. Owning a Quan was indispensable for demanding professions that used the Arts, but because it afforded the wielder far greater power, it was also incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands. So the license often fell to trustworthy people, and those old enough to handle such a responsibility.

Was this figure old enough for a Quan? Elwin had no way to know.

"Don't fall off," the figure cautioned, as a rope of water materialized from the mist, connecting a pediment from the building and his Quan which had begun to hum.

"WOAH!" Elwin yelped, as the figure took to the sky, swinging from house to house, from building to building, tumbling and somersaulting across the moonlit sky. The air brushed his face and ruffled his hair; and for brief moments Elwin could witness the entire skyline of the slumbering city, their silhouettes gray upon the indigo of ocean and night. The height at which they rose and fell and rose again exhilarated Elwin to the bone; this was a man who had long ago transcended the stumbling trial-and-error of using his Maht, and was on his way to becoming one with it. Many a moment in the sky when they were falling, Elwin had to close his eye; and open it again when they rose. But as he did so, he made out that the hair of the figure wasn't done like ordinary people's; it was done in the style of a top-knot, reminiscent of photograms and drawings of those in the Empire of Jin. What was more was that the figure's hair was colored a charcoal-navy, close to black, which was rare to find in the Republics save for Heian, far from Ascension.

The roofs were colored a misty silver from the moon, but there were places that were shrouded so thoroughly by the auspices of night that Elwin wondered how the figure could see at all, swinging this fast. All the while, the figure continued his wordless dance across the building-tops, crossing the avenues, streets, and circles, looking forward, never tiring, turning his head only slightly every now and then to assess something which Elwin could not discern; his cape, studded with faint stars like his half-mask, billowed out back like a mighty cloud, making only the softest of ripples. It was an extraordinary experience, and brought back to Elwin the sensation of magic he felt with his father that night, the night that he battled the Marlin King.

But alas, it was short, for less than five minutes since they'd begun, the figure had touched down with extraordinary softness upon the pavement of the No. 7 tram-stop.

"It was fortunate that no further danger came upon you. Go quickly and safely to your home, and don't wander about. There are nameless beings that prowl at night."

Something about the phrase nameless beings unsettled Elwin. Surely thieves and burglars may be out and about this time of night, but if not them, then... what?

The mysterious figure turned to leave, but Elwin hadn't even caught his name.

"Wait – wait! My father always said I need to give proper thanks in name to those that aid me. I'm Elwin. Elwin Eramir. I didn't catch your name! How can I address you?"

The figure paused briefly, turning to face him.

"I cannot say. But it was a delight to help you, Elwin."

"How can I become as great in water like you?"

He did not reply – brief seconds passed as the mists swirled around them.

Elwin rubbed his eye, and reached out to ask again – 

But the figure was already gone.