Tom struggled to
move the wood, his heart pounding at the sight of his friend trapped beneath
the water. His muscles burned. Even with the lesser weight of things
underwater, it wouldn’t budge. He began to panic again. Nathan could be
crushed. He had to do something!
He reached for the
control and strength he had felt. He pushed the wood again, and yelled in
frustration when it didn’t move. He screamed, punching a beam, and a pulse of
water moved it.
The whole pile
shifted, and Tom didn’t let himself be surprised for more than an instant. He
grabbed Nathan and pulled him out from underneath as the beams settled themselves.
He had to get
Nathan out of the water. All he could do was swim up from the direction the
beams had fallen. He pushed from the ground, and shot up quickly, Nathan’s
weight nothing underwater.
Tom almost hit the
ceiling of the hallway above, and cursed. There had to be a hole somewhere that
led higher up. He feared facing flames, but with Nathan possibly drowning he
had no choice. He swam along the ceiling, looking for any signs of air.
Nathan sputtered,
bubbles leaving his mouth, and Tom’s heart jolted. He punched the ceiling with
his fist, and the soaked wood gave way. He hit it harder, pain shooting through
his hand, but it was enough. A force accompanied the banging of his fist, and
the wood broke apart. He rammed through it with his body, and suddenly dry air
met his skin.
He pulled Nathan
through and laid him gingerly on the beams, stroking his friend’s soaked hair.
He hoped Nathan wasn’t dying. He shook him, water dribbling from Nathan’s mouth
when his friend began coughing. Yes! He was alive!
Tom breathed deeply,
ready to shout Nathan’s name, and started coughing, ridding his lungs of the
water that had been in them. It was a few moments before he could breath air
comfortably again, gasping.
“Wha?” Nathan’s
voice. “Tom?”
“Nathan!” Tom grabbed his hands, Nathan staring at him
confused. “You’re okay!”
No, Nathan wasn’t staring at him. He stared at something
behind him, fear in his eyes.
Someone behind
him grabbed his arms. It burned.
He tried to run away, to push the hands off
his, but it was no use. He screamed aloud, the pain unbearable. His skin was
smoking, and he smelled burning flesh. This shouldn’t be happening! The pain
was too great for him to be conscious. Nathan held him, punching something
behind him, whoever was grabbing him trying to pull him away. He tried to hold
on to Nathan, his friend yelling, and the last thing he realized before passing
out was that whoever was hurting him must be a fire mage.
***
When Tom awoke,
the first thing he noticed was the intense pain in his arms. Somebody had tied
them behind him, and the pain spread up to his shoulders. The skin on his arms
screamed with pain from the burn. He couldn’t move, and couldn’t see, the room
dark.
It all flooded
back. The feelings of foreboding before the ship had been attacked by fire, being
able to breathe underwater. And a fire mage, attacking him. But why…why was he
here, tied up? The ship was in one piece. Was the fight over? What had
happened?
As if on cue, he
heard footsteps. They were faint, and he guessed them to be coming from outside
a door or wall. He strained his ears to hear voices.
“Their attack
wasn’t too well thought out. Our ship will be here soon. Theirs is captured.”
“And what of
their mages?”
Someone laughed.
“We put to death three earth mages and an old wind mage by flame. Two were
kids, but it serves Auros right. We lost children too in his asinine attempt.” Tom shuddered. Could the two kids have been…?
“That hardly
matters. What about the fire mage? The one responsible?”
“He got away.
Vanished, seemingly.”
“You know this
means war again. We put their mages to death, it takes away Auros’s opportunity
to call it an accident.”
“So be it. If
that’s the best they have, we should have no trouble. Auros is barely a spark compared
to Ruthen and his boy.”
Tom frowned.
War, then?
“What about that kid? The one the fire
lord burned?” Tom listened again. They must be talking about him.
“Dunno.
They’re gonna have a look at him. Archibald says he’s not Earth or Wind, and I
don’t see how he could be fire…but water? That’s impossible.”
Tom’s veins
filled with ice. Water mage. Him?
“So what? We
leave him?”
“I guess so.”
The footsteps faded again, and Tom grew cold. What would they do with him? They
wouldn’t kill him, would they? It wasn’t his fault! He could ignore water, and
be the same as before. He tried struggling, momentarily forgetting the pain in
his arms until the ropes scraped the raw burns. He cried out, his world growing
dim with pain, and he sat still until it passed. He wished it wasn’t so dark.
He didn’t know
how long he sat there, willing the pain in his hands to fade. He grew hungry,
then thirsty.
It was amazing how quickly things had
changed. It had all gotten weird after he fell ill. Tom tried to remember how
that could have happened. He had been out in a storm, but that couldn’t have
made him that sick. And it certainly couldn’t have lead to him being a water
mage, could it? He thought hard about that day and night. A memory tried to
form in his brain, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. It had to do with the rain,
though, and maybe the storm.
The door
creaked, and warm light flooded the room from the hallway sconces. Tom looked
at the ground, blinking. His eyes adjusted slowly.
“Shit, Tom,
this is my fault.”
“Nathan?”
“Shush. I’m getting you out of here.”
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