Dreams

Freya kicked off her covers as she prepared to exit her tent at an island encampment on the shores of the lake Tagota. She finally rose with an audible grunt. Taking a deep breathe, she exhaled slowly.

Years of magic manipulation, battles and old age had been unkind to her body. She now possessed a frailty that made it difficult to support herself. If it weren't for the tireless efforts of her young apprentice; the teenage orphan, Tyson, she would've found herself in a precarious position.

She stretched delicately as she heard her joints pop. Satisfied that the knots of her muscles were properly beaten out and her joints were warmed up, she grabbed a scroll and emerged from the tent. Her free hand trembled slightly. The weakness of her body was worse than she had imagined. Moving silently, she took a familiar meditative stance on the ground outside her tent. The dead leaves on the ground bristled as she lowered herself. She crossed her feet and set her hands on her lap. She slowed her breathing and listened to the hypnotic rhythm of her own heartbeat as she entered a trance like state. She turned her focus outward and felt the magic of the plants, trees and animals around the camp. The lake Tagota served the dual purpose of masking her and her young apprentice while also acting as a conduit to magnify her magic. A long time ago, fairies had made their home on this island and their magic still left traces all over but the fairies themselves were nowhere to be found.

Tyson was still fast asleep. She had him tend to their vegetable garden the day before as well as run through the woods and the arduous exercise had tired him out. She could hear his chest rise and fall with every breath. By the time he turned nineteen, the small, skinny boy that Freya found covered in blood in the woods behind a burning village had become a mountain of muscle with heavy hands and a fierce gaze. Freya had failing eyesight so that meant that he had to do everything for her. Considering the fact that they lived alone at a camp in the woods, it was a hard job and it toughened him. He could've used magic to ease his burden but he enjoyed the pain of physical exertion.

To teach him about the nature of magic, Freya asked him to run through the woods and carefully observe the flowers that he finds.

Even in his dreams, he replayed the events in his mind. The soul bond that existed between the pair made it possible for Freya to see and feel what he was dreaming about. She could see him running through the wooded forest, after a very short period he already became so tired that his muscles ached and groaned. He suspected that the cause of this fatigue was strange magic.

"Reach out with your perception.... cast aside your sight...." said a disembodied voice of his master as she urged him to reach for enlightenment.

After turning his focus inward, he could feel that his energy was being drained. Searching his surroundings he discovered that the culprit was a mere tree. But this was no ordinary tree; all plants that grew on the island had properties that went beyond the physical or the rational. After draining some mana from his body, the flowers that grew on the side of the tree turned red. He reached out to touch it but it suddenly bloomed and burst into flames.

"What does this mean master?" He asked.

"This is the nature of the magic that flows through you," Freya replied.

"So my attribute is… fire?"

"No, not fire. Fire destroys. Did the tree burn when the flower caught flames?" Freya asked.

"No."

"Your power is much more potent than you realise," Freya said. "You have a piece of the sun hidden inside you. Too much and you will destroy what you touch like the flower, just enough and you can make anything grow and bloom in your presence."

"How do I know when it is too much?"

"That is precisely what you must learn by yourself," Freya said. "Your journey begins now... I have taught you all I can..."

Suddenly, Freya was forcibly ripped away from Tyson's mind and in place of the tree, there was only fog too thick to see through. A figure shrouded in the fog appeared before Tyson.

"Who are you?" Tyson asked apprehensively.

"Who I am does not matter. I came to warn you," the blur said. "You don't know the dangers that lie ahead. Give up and tell me how to find you."

"What business do you have with me?" Tyson said.

"I seek your destruction. You have outlasted your kind," the blur said. "Once you are dead, I will have won."

"Who am I to you?" Tyson said. "What am I?"

"You're the half-elf that inherited power that you do not understand," the blur said again. "I'll offer you one last chance, tell me where you are."

"If I thought for a second that you would only take me and let my master fo free, your offer would tempt me."

"Then you have chosen war. You already lost your family. You will pay a bigger price for your defiance."

Tyson woke up drenched in sweat like he had just emerged from the Tagota lake. His heart pounded so heavily that it felt like it would rip through his chest and his tunic. The last vestiges of sleep and fatigue clung to him stubbornly, clouding his mind with uncertainty and fear. A voice inside him spurred on by his fear urged him to take Freya, abandon the camp and run. Somehow he knew that despite the scope and magnitude of a threat that could invade his dreams, his master was not the running type and he would not abandon her no matter how cold or distant she was towards him. She felt like family. At least the only family that he knew. He had to find a way to protect her. He didn't just need a good sword arm, he needed thick walls and an army to defend from whatever was stalking them from the shadows. Somehow he knew that Freya knew more about the threat than she let on but she wouldn't answer his questions about it and he knew better than to press.

There was another why he had to protect her. Inexperienced and lacking as he was at magic, he could feel a strong bond with Freya. He didn't know why it was there or for how long but deep inside him, he knew that if she died, he would die as well.