The crystalline waters of the narrow stream sang their eternal song as they cascaded over smooth river stones, each droplet catching the amber light of the setting sun like liquid fire. The river stream wasn't from the country house where Jarkan lived. This place had become his training ground ever since he started practising.
Jarkan stood at the water's edge, his bare feet planted firmly on the moss-covered bank, feeling the cool mist kiss his skin. Behind him stretched the Verdant Meadow, an endless expanse of emerald grass that swayed in the gentle evening breeze, dotted with wildflowers that painted the landscape in splashes of violet and gold.
This world, so different from the one he had left behind in death, still felt surreal to him. Three months had passed since his soul had awakened in this body, in this realm where the very air thrummed with elemental energy, yet sometimes he still expected to wake up in his old life. But there was no denying the power that coursed through his veins now, the three affinities that marked him as something unique even among the gifted.
He sighed heavily, thinking about the letter which arrived from his mother. She wanted him to go back to school and finish his studies. He could only remember her from the memories, but the contrast between his old mother and Milicent wasn't lost on him. She looked more radiant in this world, and he certainly appreciated her care towards this Jarkan, which was now him.
Shaking his head, he returned to his training. Jarkan raised his right hand toward the creek, his fingers splayed wide. The familiar tingle of elemental connection sparked along his nerves as he reached out with his consciousness, feeling for the water's essence. The stream responded immediately, as if it had been waiting for his call. A tendril of water rose from the surface, defying gravity as it spiralled upward in a graceful helix, following the subtle movements of his fingers.
The water danced at his command, forming intricate patterns in the air—first a sphere that rotated slowly, then stretching into serpentine ribbons that wove around each other in an elaborate braid.
With a gentle gesture, he sent the water flowing back to rejoin the stream, barely causing a ripple as it merged seamlessly with the current.
The control he now had over the elements had gotten better. The memories helped a lot in his training.
Next came the wind. Jarkan turned his attention skyward, feeling the air currents that moved invisibly around him.
This affinity had come most naturally to him, perhaps because wind was everywhere, always in motion, always alive.
He drew in a deep breath and extended both arms, his palms facing outward.
The breeze that had been gently stirring the meadow grass suddenly intensified, responding to his will. The air gathered around him in visible currents, creating small whirlwinds that lifted fallen leaves from the ground and sent them spinning in graceful spirals around his body.
He compressed the air into a tight sphere between his palms, feeling the pressure build until it hummed with barely contained energy, then released it in a controlled burst that sent ripples across the creek's surface.
But it was his third affinity that truly set him apart—the one that had taken weeks to understand and weeks to begin controlling.
Black lightning was not merely a variation of normal electrical energy; it was something far more primal, more dangerous. Where ordinary lightning was born of storm clouds and atmospheric pressure, black lightning seemed to emerge from the shadow between worlds, carrying with it a hunger that could devour other forms of energy.
Jarkan held his left hand before him, palm upward, and called upon that dark power. The sensation was always unsettling, like reaching into an abyss and finding that something reached back. Tendrils of midnight-black energy crackled to life above his palm, writhing like living serpents made of pure darkness.
Unlike natural lightning's brilliant white-blue flash, this energy seemed to absorb light rather than emit it, creating an area of deeper shadow that hurt to look at directly.
The black lightning moved with an intelligence that normal elements lacked, as if it were aware of its surroundings and actively seeking something to consume.
Jarkan had learned to respect this power above all others, for he had seen what happened when it was allowed to run wild.
As he practised weaving the three elements together—water flowing in streams guided by wind currents while black lightning danced between them like a predatory shadow—Jarkan felt a familiar sense of accomplishment. His control had improved dramatically since those first chaotic weeks when simply calling upon his powers had left him exhausted and disoriented. Now he could maintain all three elements simultaneously, creating complex patterns that would have been impossible for someone with a single affinity.
The sun continued its descent toward the western horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and deep purple. Jarkan was about to begin a new exercise—one that involved creating a miniature storm system complete with water spouts and controlled lightning—when something made him pause.
It wasn't a sound exactly, nor was it something he saw. It was more like a disturbance in the elemental currents around him, a wrongness that made his skin prickle with unease. The wind patterns he had been manipulating suddenly felt sluggish, as if something were interfering with their natural flow. Even the creek seemed to whisper more urgently, its voice carrying an undertone of warning.
Jarkan lowered his hands and allowed his elemental constructs to dissipate, focusing all his attention on this new sensation. The feeling grew stronger, like ice forming in his veins. Something was approaching—something that didn't belong in this peaceful place.
Then he saw them.
They materialised first as wisps of shadow at the edge of his vision, barely distinguishable from the gathering dusk. But as they drew closer, their forms became clear.
Wraiths—creatures of nightmare given substance, their ethereal bodies writhing with malevolent energy. Their forms were humanoid but elongated, stretched thin as if pulled through dimensions that weren't meant to hold them. Wisps of black and crimson energy trailed from their limbs like smoke, and where they passed, the very air seemed to dim.