Of Blood And Fire Ryan Cahill (nice books to read .txt) 📖

inkling as to his strength, yet he has the potential to be one of the most powerful mages I have encountered for a long time.

“Dragons are magical creatures, to the core of their being. The Spark is in the very fire that they breathe. When someone becomes bonded to a dragon the way that you have, it changes them. The bond created transcends everything that you can see and touch. Pieces of who you are become bonded to each other. You will see. Both Draleid and dragons gain many things from the bond; the most important of these gifts for a Draleid is the ability to touch the Spark.”

It took Calen a moment to understand. “You mean…me?”

“Yes.” Therin laughed softly. “You, Calen. Don’t question. Just do. You will see.”

“What do I do? I just… touch the water and say the word?”

Therin scrunched up his mouth and tilted his head to the side. “The words are not necessary. Often, when a young mage begins their training, speaking the word is helpful. It allows them to focus. The power of the Spark is not in the words we speak, nor is it in your fingertips. It is in your head and your heart, it is… everywhere.

“It is difficult for people, especially your kind, to understand what they cannot see and feel. This is why using your hands is helpful. It’s like a totem – a conduit. Touch your fingers off the surface of the water. Take the heat from the water and push it outward. Picture it freezing, slowly moving, like the roots of a tree.”

Calen puffed his cheeks out as he exhaled heavily. He felt that familiar twist form in his stomach, and his heart picked up its pace. He had no idea why he was so nervous. What does it matter if it doesn’t work? He was not convincing himself.

Exhaling again, Calen pulled himself up onto his knees. He reached his hand down over the flowing water. The chill bit at his fingertips as they grazed the surface of the stream. “It’s half-frozen already,” he joked, swallowing nervously.

The elf smiled, but he did not laugh. His eyes were fixed on Calen’s hand.

Okay, I can do this.

Calen turned his attention to the stream, where his fingertips rested against the running water. He tried to clear his mind, imagining the water turning to ice, spreading like a ripple after a rock had been dropped in a lake. He slowed his breathing and felt the vibrations as his heartbeat slowed in his chest.

“It’s not working.”

“Patience. There are five elements, Calen: Fire, Earth, Water, Air, and Spirit. The Spark consists of all of these. Imagine energy. Just power, raw and untamed. Now, from that energy, take what you need. Pull from it like a thread of yarn, slowly. Treat it with the same caution you would treat a roaring fire or a razor-sharp blade. Do not take too much. The Spark has consumed those who ask for too much too soon. Focus on the elements of Water, Air, and Fire.”

“Fire?” Calen asked.

“I know it seems strange, but you need something to control the heat that you take from the water. Feel it. You will understand.”

Calen’s nerves were only getting worse. What did he mean, “it has consumed those who ask for too much too soon?”

He slowed his breathing again and closed his eyes. He could see an empty blackness. It touched every corner of his mind. The only source of light came from a ball of energy – right at the centre of the darkness – that pulsed, turning in on itself as it floated in his mind. The more he focused, the more he realised that the ball of energy was not smooth or solid. It was made up of interlaced strands of light. He watched them in his mind, pulsating. They were separate from each other, but at the same time, they were not. They twisted and turned, constantly moving, changing. Each strand was unique. He could not explain what it was, but each thread felt different as he touched them with his mind. Power emanated from them; he could feel it. It washed over his skin and filled his bones. It pulled at him, tempted him. He wanted to reach out and let the Spark consume him.

Focus.

He reached out with his mind. He plucked at two of the strands, drawing thin threads into him. Air and Water. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. He could feel the strand of fire. Its pull was stronger than the others, as if it were calling to him. Air, Water, and Fire. It yearned for him. It made him cautious. Therin’s words echoed in his mind.

Calen reached out for the Fire strand, drawing a thin thread of its essence into him. He was careful not to draw too heavily. Not to take too much.

A sweet, warm glow flooded through his body from head to toe. It was the same glow he felt when the egg became wreathed in fire. He felt it now, and he knew what it was. The Spark.

His breathing steadied. He drew the threads through him, using them to shape and mould the water to his will. He watched in amazement as the water around his fingertips began to freeze, spreading out in a concentric circle. “Valerys…” he whispered, a soft smile touching his face.

“Calen… Calen!”

Calen was mildly aware of Therin’s voice floating in the back of his mind, tapping at the edge of his focus. The touch of his hand on Calen’s shoulder took him by surprise. Calen felt the warmth leave his body, losing the Spark. He pulled his hand away from the water and shook his head, trying to erode the grogginess that had set in.

“Sorry. I just… I got a bit lost in it. It feels—”

“Addictive,” Therin said abruptly. “That’s because it is. The power to change and bend things to your will is something that will always be addictive. The warmth as you