see through his skin like an x-ray and identify the substance as if he had studied it since birth. It was a chemical. No, not a chemical, because chemicals needed a catalyst or some other substance to perform a feat. This…this was like liquid fire. It was like an oil, a burning sun and a spark all in one. It was rage manifest.
And it had become a part of him.
Aidan stared at his hands in awe, watching the fluid course through him, giving his body fuel and energy, taking over the jobs his blood once had. He didn’t understand how it was possible, but he realized its potential. Taking a deep breath, he raised his head upwards, and stretched a palm towards the sky. He imagined the liquid fire surging like adrenaline through his veins, to his wrist, into his hands and beyond his fingers – erupting from his pores like a geyser.
To his shock, a surge of fire burst from his palm, streaking toward the sky with a shrieking sound that made him wince and grit his teeth. There was no pain or pressure. Just the flames. They reached higher and higher, rocketing towards the sky without end. Then, with nothing more than a thought, it ceased, and his hand looked no different than it had before. It had not been burned or singed.
He no longer saw through his skin, but he felt it pumping through him, building in intensity until the next release.
A curt smile formed on Aidan’s lips as he thought of what he had just acquired. Two more wishes, huh, he thought as he examined the seals on his arm. Two should be more than enough.
* * *
“You missed our appointment,” Isaac replied as Aidan approached the Field of Visions. Aidan shrugged his shoulders.
“Tell that to the boss lady. She wanted to have a chat.”
“Oh, I see. Then everything’s cool. Hey, do you think this looks good on me?”
Isaac spread his arms out wide, giving Aidan the chance to examine him. He was wearing a black leather shirt and pants with a great deal of belts, chains and bracelets strung around his body, looping around his limbs and midsection so tight, it was as if they were infused into his skin. The jacket over his shoulders reached down to his ankles and looked like a battle robe he had stolen from a museum. The contrast of black to his blonde hair was strange, but Aidan cared little for fashion. How would he know if it was a proper ensemble or not?
“Looks good,” Aidan said flatly. Isaac gave him a skeptical look.
“You’re just saying that!” he retorted, trying to stretch his legs. “It doesn’t look too tight or anything?”
“Can you breathe?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s not too tight,” Aidan said, trying to keep a straight face. Isaac smirked and tried to reach the dagger that was hanging from his hip underneath the jacket, but he was restricted in movement, and it ended up looking like he was making failed attempts at stretching exercises. Aidan couldn’t bear it any longer. He burst out laughing, covering his face as his whole body shook. Isaac grunted in annoyance and flexed his muscles, shredding and ripping the costume. The fabric floated down to the grass as Isaac brushed off the village garb he had worn underneath. Yellow shirt and blue pants.
“It may not look appealing, but it gives me the movement I require.”
“Oh, like it makes a difference in how this will all end,” Aidan scoffed, wiping away his tears. He hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time.
“You won’t be laughing when I rip that special robe of yours to shreds.”
“You can’t,” Aidan declared. “It’s very unique. Had someone on the outside infuse it with regenerative properties. Even if you somehow destroy it like you just did your costume there, it will always come back together, like it has a mind of its own.”
“I could have used that…” Isaac said, glancing down at the shredded pieces. “It sucks creating a new one each time.”
“Or you can, you know, not rip it to
And it had become a part of him.
Aidan stared at his hands in awe, watching the fluid course through him, giving his body fuel and energy, taking over the jobs his blood once had. He didn’t understand how it was possible, but he realized its potential. Taking a deep breath, he raised his head upwards, and stretched a palm towards the sky. He imagined the liquid fire surging like adrenaline through his veins, to his wrist, into his hands and beyond his fingers – erupting from his pores like a geyser.
To his shock, a surge of fire burst from his palm, streaking toward the sky with a shrieking sound that made him wince and grit his teeth. There was no pain or pressure. Just the flames. They reached higher and higher, rocketing towards the sky without end. Then, with nothing more than a thought, it ceased, and his hand looked no different than it had before. It had not been burned or singed.
He no longer saw through his skin, but he felt it pumping through him, building in intensity until the next release.
A curt smile formed on Aidan’s lips as he thought of what he had just acquired. Two more wishes, huh, he thought as he examined the seals on his arm. Two should be more than enough.
* * *
“You missed our appointment,” Isaac replied as Aidan approached the Field of Visions. Aidan shrugged his shoulders.
“Tell that to the boss lady. She wanted to have a chat.”
“Oh, I see. Then everything’s cool. Hey, do you think this looks good on me?”
Isaac spread his arms out wide, giving Aidan the chance to examine him. He was wearing a black leather shirt and pants with a great deal of belts, chains and bracelets strung around his body, looping around his limbs and midsection so tight, it was as if they were infused into his skin. The jacket over his shoulders reached down to his ankles and looked like a battle robe he had stolen from a museum. The contrast of black to his blonde hair was strange, but Aidan cared little for fashion. How would he know if it was a proper ensemble or not?
“Looks good,” Aidan said flatly. Isaac gave him a skeptical look.
“You’re just saying that!” he retorted, trying to stretch his legs. “It doesn’t look too tight or anything?”
“Can you breathe?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s not too tight,” Aidan said, trying to keep a straight face. Isaac smirked and tried to reach the dagger that was hanging from his hip underneath the jacket, but he was restricted in movement, and it ended up looking like he was making failed attempts at stretching exercises. Aidan couldn’t bear it any longer. He burst out laughing, covering his face as his whole body shook. Isaac grunted in annoyance and flexed his muscles, shredding and ripping the costume. The fabric floated down to the grass as Isaac brushed off the village garb he had worn underneath. Yellow shirt and blue pants.
“It may not look appealing, but it gives me the movement I require.”
“Oh, like it makes a difference in how this will all end,” Aidan scoffed, wiping away his tears. He hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time.
“You won’t be laughing when I rip that special robe of yours to shreds.”
“You can’t,” Aidan declared. “It’s very unique. Had someone on the outside infuse it with regenerative properties. Even if you somehow destroy it like you just did your costume there, it will always come back together, like it has a mind of its own.”
“I could have used that…” Isaac said, glancing down at the shredded pieces. “It sucks creating a new one each time.”
“Or you can, you know, not rip it to
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