The Village

Erik snapped his fingers. A small blue flame ignited from thin air, floating above his hand. It was a cold morning in the village, and Erik woke up shivering. The fire pit in the center of his house was nothing more than a few bare coals, lying dead on the paved dirt ground. Thankfully he had his blue fire to keep him warm.

If he could barely manage the cold mornings with his fire talent, it was a wonder that the Grounded could. He pitied the Grounded, the people in his village unable to receive talents, but not too much. He knew they couldn't receive their abilities because they never managed to climb the mountain. Only Skybreakers were able to inherit talents, and so it was the Skybreakers’ job to ensure the safety and happiness of the Grounded, even though there was no visible difference between the two castes. Still, their lives were significantly harder than the Skybreakers, as they could not aspire to be warriors, nor could they possess the capability to do marvelous and incredible things.

 Thinking of the Grounded reminded Erik of his friend, Vanitur. He hadn't seen Van all day yesterday. Van was probably at his favorite nook on the mountain, one that looked like a shell. Oddly enough, though Van knew the mountain base better than anyone else in the village, he had never managed to climb to the peek, and has never had a talent. Maybe he had climbed the mountain yesterday during the storms, Erik thought. He knew it unlikely though. Nobody has survived climbing the mountains during the storms. They either return to the village, or are found dead at the base.

Erik himself climbed the mountain on a cool, sunny day. He had prepared hard for it, and it was an easy climb. Reminiscing of that time, he remembered what it was like to receive a talent. He was nervous when he was finally able to enter the Temple of the Heart. The temple was a gleaming cavern, carved by the magicks within its very own stone walls. Though fuzzy in memory, the talent room remains clear in his mind. It was a large, spacious hall full of aquamarine pillars and surrounded with sapphire walls. The Lapis Lazuli ceiling was littered with luminescent Rubies and Topaz, shining their scarlet and golden lights on the enchanting hall. The floor was moonstone, and throughout the hall stood almost countless pedestals of Larimar.

Each pedestal shone a weak ethereal light, depicting a rainbow of colors when one glided their eyes around the room. Each pedestal had a different object on them, each one representing various talents. But Erik didn't remember them, he ran instantly into his talent. Upon the first pedestal he reached was a small blue flame, wavering with energy and life. This flame was the same one between his fingers, warming him after the cold night. He didn't remember leaving the Temple, nor the celebration that apparently happened afterwards. But the flame stayed with him.

After cooking himself small meal from the few foodstuffs he had within his house, Erik walked outside. The small dirt streets were teeming with life, as villagers scrambled to buy, sells, chat, and move from one area to another. Most of the people were Grounded farmers and workers with some Skybreakers in the mix, rapidly moving in and out of the fluctuating crowd. Erik went through the crowds almost absentmindedly.

Out of nowhere he heard his name. He looked around, trying to locate the source of the familiar voice. Again it called, and he turned around to be greeted by the beaming face of Vanitur. Van was somewhat tall and lanky, with a bony physique. He had a crooked, triangular nose with average sized ears and green eyes. Across his left eye was a large scar, something from his childhood. His hair was a reddish brown, with a bright yellow orange streak on the bangs. He wore a dark green and brown tunic, with a belt crossed over his shoulder and attached to another belt around his waist. His legs were long, covered with the beige fabric of pants, and his feet were bare.

“Hello Van, you seem particularly happy today.” Erik commented. He didn't expect an answer. The more you got to know Van, the less he tended to talk. He was a reclusive fellow.

“I did it! I finally did it!” The fact that Van spoke so loudly surprised Erik just as much as the words he said. “I made it to the top!”

Erik was speechless. Not just did Van finally make it to the top after numerous failures, but he did it during a storm. “H-h-how did….?” He stuttered. To think, that after years, Van would finally have a talent. People who had happened to hear the news or knew Erik and Van gathered around, wondering what the commotion was about.

“I know! I need to tell the elder!” Van ecstatically exclaimed before he shot off running off the way Erik came. Erik stood there, mouth agape, pondering the things that Van had said. People were chatting rapidly now, having figured out what the news was about. Soon the whole village would know what had happened. But Erik didn't know what would be more sensational to hear: the fact that Van made it to the peak, or the fact that Van actually said more than three words in public.