PART 4 – The Elements of Life

            The Farren Oceans surface appeared orange as the sunset combined with the great blue yonder.  The tiny waves made a soft delicate sound as they brushed up against the sand that made up the beach.  The deck of the old house just passed the dunes and just entered the edge of the forest, the perfect retirement house.  At least at a time it was.  The house was longer than it was tall or wide, a single over grown road led back to civilization.  Originally this house was used to make guitars and other wood knick-knacks.  There were few things left inside, most things were taken or decayed over the five years it had been abandoned.  The only thing left that had any significance was the weighted memories that stained the walls of the house.

            As the man walked through the house he felt the souls and memories grab at his ankles as he treaded ground that he once favored.  No matter how many times he tried to forget what happened in this house, he never could, but at the same time something always told him he shouldn’t forget.  He walked over shattered bottles, splintered wood, grenade fragments, bloodstains, and other signs of dismay and struggle.  He looked to his left, the wall was riddled with holes where the sunlight came through and spotted his leather coat.  The sunlight grazed over his eyes.  Eyes that showed death and hate, and emotionless gaze, but underneath that stare was the fire of hate, and with it, determination. 

            The lone man walked out onto the deck and took a moment to take in the nice sight; it had been a while since he had seen something nice.  He took in a deep breath feeling the salt of the air pass through his nose.  His sat down in one of the two wooden rocking chairs on the deck, the only two things in the whole house he took care of.  In the other chair sat an old man.  Short, depressed, balding, the pinnacle and idle of pity.  His skin a pasty white despite him bathing in the sun every moment of everyday, never eating, never drinking, never sleeping.  “You look better, healthier.” The old man said.  His voice was surprisingly young and clear.  “I know, I feel as if things have turned around without me having to do anything.” The man commented.  The old man never made eye contact.  “I know what you’re going to try and do, Jordan.  Must I try and talk you out of it again?” The old man asked wearisomely.  “There isn’t a single thing you can say Ruul, my mind is set and I’m ready.” Jordan looked at Ruul back got no look back.  “I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know, but I’m just worried your heading down a dangerous path Jordan.” Ruul had no hint of worry in his voice.  “You haven’t seen me fight lately.  I’ve gotten so much better!  I even found out what my crush is, and I’m not far from finding out my call!” Jordan raised his voice slightly.  “The crush and the call.  It’s been a while since I’ve heard those words, and it’s been even longer since I’ve seen either of them.  But not many people even get to see them.” Ruul sighed.  “I can take her.  You know I can, I’m one of the more powerful elementalists in this world, and my potential is outstanding!” Ruul finally looked at Jordan.  “And who told you that?  You’ve exiled yourself for years now Jordan.  No one has gauged your abilities but you.” He said harshly.  “She has to die!  I have to kill her then I can finally stop!  Then I can finally avenge what happen to all of you!” Ruul looked back out to the ocean.  “Show me your crush,” he finally said.

            Jordan stared out at the ocean, the sand crunched under his feet as he approached the waters edge.  He glanced back over his shoulder at Ruul, who sat watching him, a gentle nod signaled Jordan to begin.  Jordan took in a deep breath and held his sword in front of him.  His blade was almost as long as he was and it was very wide.  Its size was very impractical, but he learned to use such an awkwardly large sword so if he is ever disarmed his opponent couldn’t use it against him.  Regardless, Jordan liked his sword.  Jordan pointed his sword out towards the ocean and traced the edge of the blade with his other hand.  The sand around his feet began to blow away with an inexistent wind putting him in a small crater.  The waves of pure energy batted his hair around and the only sound was a calming wind and the snap of his leather jacket.  He felt a power run to his finger tips.  It was warm and he could already notice his vision starting to fade away.  Jordan lifted his sword up vertically and swung downwards with all of his might.  As his sword hit the sandy ground a wave of red color flashed from his sword and projected itself forward in a glorious red arch.  As the wave moved over the water it’s edge began to radiate a white light.  For the whole of the time a scream filled the air that came from nowhere, it could only be compared to the screaming of a young girl.  Once Jordan lifted his sword off the ground the red wave dispersed with the sound of a cannon.  Jordan smiled, proud of himself, it takes a lot of practice and energy to manifest ones element.

            With that power Jordan had cut down trees, obliterated his foes, destroyed boulders, demolished buildings, and even start fires.  Jordan was the infamous, and internationally wanted, elementalist of pure energy.  “Yes, I made the wave bigger this time.” Jordan dropped his sword at his side and his vision went black as he collapsed into the sand.

            “You can perform your crush, but it puts you out almost instantly, you still have work to do before you kill her.”  Jordan was woken up by the sound of Ruul’s voice.  Ruul was gripping an old cane standing next to Jordan’s prone body, staring at the sun.  Still to weak to move he just listened.  “You so strongly believe that she killed your mother, your brother, and I.  The suns almost down so I’ll be gone soon.  But just remember Jordan, you can never be too strong, and once you find your foe, never give it your all at the start.”  Ruul turned his back to Jordan and began walking back up the beach towards the house.  “No!  Wait!” Jordan grabbed his sword and used it as a crutch to lift his weak body out of the sand.  “Wait!”  Jordan hastily limped after Ruul dragging his sword behind him.  Before he got anywhere near Ruul a violent gust of wind swept in and blew Ruul away as if he was made of dust.  Jordan froze in place as what was once Ruul blended with the beach sand.

            “Dad!” Jordan yelled feeling alone for the first time his whole life.  Ruul, his father, was never there just an echo of a memory that he could spend time with, but now Ruul was gone for what Jordan was assuming was forever.  “No!” Jordan screamed as loud as he could.  He used the momentum of his slight stride to swing his sword over his head and sent another screaming red wave rocketing at the house.  He manipulated the flow of the wave by tugging on his sword like a fisherman pulls his line.  The wave struck the deck and smashed it into pieces, flinging pieces of wood and bits of metal into the sky causing it to rain down on the beach.  Jordan stood facing his destruction panting, a single tear rolling down his face.  He felt the remaining energy in his body leaving, but he refused to let unconsciousness to claim him again.

            Jordan chucked his sword at the sand dunes; it bounced off and landed in the road in front of the house.  “Damnit, what do I do now Ruul?  Just go find her?” He asked nobody.  Jordan ran his fingers through his hair and wiped the single tear off of his cheek.  He slowly walked up the dunes to reclaim his sword.  He felt defeated, but at the same time strangely inspired.  He reached down and picked up his sword, it lay simply in the road amongst a layer of bullet shells.  He sat down on the road and stuck his sword into the gravel.  He sighed as he ran his fingers over the bullet shells and collected a handful of them.  Then he began to think about the past again.

            His father, mother and older brother living happily in the house, Jordan was young and happy.  The sunny and warm day when all the saraphs came to the house.  The elemental hunters sniping his non-elemental mother from outside.  The sound of his father calling his mothers name.  The feeling of fear and sadness.  The sound of fifteen saraphs all emptying the clips of their autoguns into the side of the house.  The sight of Ruul being blown away in front of him.  The depression he felt when he saw his brother run outside with a sword only to be cut down himself by their leader.  Jordan only survived by hiding behind his fathers safe in the main room.

            The saraphs came for his father, he was a wind elementalist.  Never in his life had Ruul ever used the wind to hurt anyone, he didn’t use it for personal gain at any point.  He used the wind to help him make wooden flutes.  He liked teaching people how to play instruments; he liked to see people smile because of him.  He was one of the saraphs first targets, back when they first formed their group; they killed any elementalist, good or bad.

            Jordan made it his life to kill their leader.  It angered him more that she was an elementalist herself, the sand dancer.  The girl that cut down her brother, made the order to shoot and kill his mother and father.  The girl he’ll never forget.  Jordan squeezed the bullet shells tightly in his hand fusing their soft brass casings together.  “I’m coming for you Clarissa.”