Six

The day after his awakening, Nathaniel made the quick walk towards the witch’s cottage to begin training. They meet by her door and she swiftly took him through the woods, into the clearing she described the day before. The spot was perfect for training and the man noticed how comfortable she was in the nature.

“Where do we start, Nathaniel?”

“I was the one to make the offer so it’s only fair I start teaching. Perhaps you can show me what you can do.”

She nodded and seemed deep in thought for a while. Nate began to think nothing would happen, but suddenly Brianna closed her eyes and put both hands on the ground. A single dahlia sprung from the grass between them, growing steadily from a small bulb to a perfectly round set of light pink petals. A gush of wind took a few petals away along with its seeds and they fell not far from its origin. Bree took her hands from the ground and small drops of water began to assemble on her cupped hands. She walked towards the stray seeds and the water danced from her hands to the soil, falling like raindrops and nurturing the new life that would come.

Nathaniel believed that was of the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and for a while he stood speechless admiring the story that was told before him. Luckily, the woman had her eyes closed and a small content smile, unaware of the playful wind that was lightly messing with her hair. Her hands fell to her side and her shoulders seemed to carry a weight that just wasn’t there before. That gave him time to snap out of his trance and plaster a cold demeanor.

“I meant what you can do in a fight, witch.”

Her smile broke and a flash of pain crossed her eyes, making Nathaniel almost regret the harsh tone.

“I don’t fight.”

“You fought me”

“I defended myself”

“Then do it.” He began to form a fireball between his hands, giving her just a little bit of time to notice what was happening. He never used such straightforward techniques in a real fight, but he was not trying to kill her. Yet.

Brianna was alarmed by the situation but before she could think of a way out, he fired at her. There was no thought involved in her defense, however an ice shield was created by her hands blocking the attack. In quick succession, the fire was shot in her direction, striking her only protection in a sickening dance that she was bound to lose. Her protection was made from water drawn from the humidity of the air, so instead of melting by her feet, the shield simple faded away with each strike.

She felt exhaustion coming over her and tried to ask him to stop, but her voice barely came out and the blasts were way to loud. Her knees faltered and she fell to the ground, black spots clouded her vision and she unwillingly gave in to the darkness

“Fuck” Nate got to her in a couple of large strides and checked out for any injuries, assuming one of the fireballs had hit her despite the shield. He noticed no burns, but she was coated in a thin layer of sweat and her face was pale. She actually drained herself defending from his attacks and although he knew this could happen, he felt guilty about pushing her so far. He wanted to see how much energy she could draw from herself but didn’t imagine she would do it until she passed out.

Nate took her in his arms and neared the river’s margin, where he sat with the limp body in his arms. He ripped a piece fabric from his tunic and dipped it in the river, then ran the cloth past her forehead and down her neck hoping the cooling sensation would wake her up. The movement started off harsh, uncaring, but without noticing he began to soften the strikes and pay attention to details of her face he hadn’t notice before. Her lashes were long and when the light hit them a certain way, they had a coppery tone that matched her hair. She had light freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, giving out an innocent vibe. Her thin lips arched towards the end giving her an always smiling appearance. The story of the dahlia she created earlier has dull in comparison to the beauty of the person laying on his arms.