David scratched at his arms and legs, scrubbing at his skin until it turned red, but the prickling sensation remained. He rolled in the grass, hoping the cool blades would dislodge whatever it was, but that did nothing either.

  Growing more frustrated, he tried a variety of physical methods—patting himself down, rubbing his skin raw, even removing some of his clothes as if they might somehow be the cause. Still, the prickling persisted, unaffected by any of his efforts.

  David sighed, slumping against the tree trunk. He pounded the grass with his fist, letting out his frustration on the rare occasion of not being observed.

  The prickling was slowly driving him mad. He held his hands out in front of him, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

  Maybe I could clean it off with water? He imagined himself swimming and the cold water bringing relief to his whole body, removing the prickling sensation.

  Closing his eyes, he relished in the thought for a while longer, and was about to run to Aura and demand a bath. Then, to his surprise, the sensation lessened slightly.

  David froze, his heart racing. …What? He waved his arms around, surprised at the sudden change, but the prickling quickly returned.

  He closed his eyes again, this time more intently and imagined the water again – swimming around and the relief it would bring him - and the prickling lessened again. A grin spread across his face as he realized he could control it—at least to a degree.

  He experimented further, trying to isolate the important part.

  It took a while, but David figured out that the necessary element was imagining the relief, and then it would come - the rest of the mental image was optional.

  But no matter how hard he tried, the prickling always returned after a few moments – basically as soon as his concentration lapsed. As persistent as ever.

  And frustratingly he couldn’t seem to make it stronger – not that he needed to, but just being unable to find the trick annoyed him.

  He had a few ideas of what the sensation could be and he wanted to experiment. Just focusing on the sensation didn’t do anything to intensify it.

  It had to be something in the air, he reasoned.

  David decided to change his approach. Closing his eyes, he tried to imagine the sensation growing stronger – and he tried connecting that with various breathing exercises.

  At first, nothing major happened. Then, on one particularly deep breath, he felt something shift; a ripple, like a tiny wave forming in his chest.

  Excited in the result, he drew even more air, imagining the wave to grow – and it did!

  The wave soon filled his chest with incredible warmth. He flexed his hand, and the energy began to flow through his body.

  If the pulsing he experienced earlier was a tiny stream – the current going through him was like a tidal wave barreling down his arm. His triumph was short-lived.

  His eyes snapped open, excitement mixing with fear in equal measure. What’s happening to me?

  As the wave moved, it left a searing pain in its wake. Like being electrocuted, but slowly and persistently.

  David gasped, clutching his chest as the sensation grew unbearable.

  When the wave finally reached his palm, he hoped for a blissful release – he couldn’t have been more wrong. It crashed all at once, a tiny shockwave ripping outwards from his hand with a loud pop.

  He collapsed onto the grass, trembling and clutching his arm. The path the wave had traveled—from his chest to his hand—was now completely numb, and panic flickered in his thoughts.

  What the hell just happened?

  He stared at his hand, trying to flex his fingers, but they barely twitched. The prickling was gone from the affected parts, replaced by a dull throb that refused to fade.

  Please, get better somehow… The fear and the pain forced tears from his eyes.

  He craddled the wounded arm against himself. Ever so slowly, the sensations started to fade.

  At least it wasn’t permanent damage… or not enough of it. He shuddered.

  The minutes dragged by as David sat under the tree, nursing his numb arm and trying to make sense of what had happened.

  His excitement was replaced with wariness. Whatever this… thing was, it wasn’t something to play with lightly.

  He flexed his hand experimentally, wincing at the faint echo of pain. Maybe this wasn’t something he could figure out on his own—not without risking real harm.

  He would ask Aura about it. Eventually.

  Just as he resolved to stop experimenting, the golden light around him began to shift. Slowly, it deepened into a reddish hue, the transition gradual but unmistakable.

  The air seemed to thicken, heavy with the palpable energy that made his skin crawl.

  The prickling returned, sharper and more intense than before. Is the eclipse causing all that?

  Suddenly, the surroundings didn’t feel as safe. The atmosphere was… ominous. So David did the first thing that came to mind: He headed back to Aura.

  When he reached the doors, her back was to the entrance again, and whatever she was so focused on seemed nearly complete. As he drew closer, he noticed the brass vial in her hand.

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  David hesitated for a moment, then crept even closer. If nothing else, he at least got some quality information out of the day. His appetite for learning, while tempered by pain, was even stronger than before.

  Seeing her face in the grisly red light, frozen in worry and… fear?

  Seeing her quivering lips, David recalled the fire that just burned through him and trembled. For a moment, her earlier words about dangers of alchemy came rushing back.

  Was that what she feared? Some insane backlash and pain? Was the world ruled by mystical forces capable of hurting you for just imagining stuff? He shivered despite the heat.

  Standing in the middle of it all for quite a while, David started to tune out the hum of people rushing around, his mind instead focused on the sharp clicks of Aura’s movements in the shed.

  He approached the doorway, lingering just outside as her husband stepped in.

  The blacksmith’s brow was furrowed, his expression unreadable as he exchanged hushed words with her, underestimating David’s hearing.

  “You’re sure it’s nothing dangerous?” His tone was calm, but there was a firmness to it. Doubt, that he couldn’t entirely mask.

  Aura didn’t look up from her preparations. “Of course,” she said, her voice even but clipped. “It’s a routine refinement, nothing more.”

  David, standing just behind the door, saw it—the flicker in her gaze. It was brief, but it was undeniably there: hesitation, uncertainty, and something closer to guilt.

  The blacksmith didn’t notice, or didn’t care, and already turned to leave, but David’s unease grew tenfold. She was lying.

  David slipped in just before the blacksmith closed the door, and Aura let out a slow breath. She glanced toward David briefly, her expression softening but not enough to quell his growing dread. “Stay back,” she said, gesturing outside, but didn’t seem too intent on throwing him out. “This isn’t for watching, Marco.”

  David didn’t respond. He just moved to the corner trying to make himself as small as possible, his curiosity warring with his apprehension.

  The enclosed space smelled of herbs, mostly but also of powders and tinctures, their aromas mingling with the faint metallic tang of alchemical tools. A small candle illuminated the room, assisted by the crimson seeping through the boards and shutters.

  Aura began her work, setting out three bowls in a triangular formation around the room.

  Each was filled with a different colored powder—one a vivid crimson, another a deep sapphire blue, and the third a brilliant golden yellow. At the center of the triangle, she carefully placed the brass vial David had seen earlier, its polished surface gleaming under the shed’s dim light.

  Around the vial, she used thin sticks of what looked like chalk to draw an intricate pattern on the floor—lines, curves, and sigils so detailed that David felt dizzy just trying to follow them.

  His unease gave way, just slightly, to fascination.

  As she worked, Aura’s movements became almost reverent, covering the floor with long, confident strokes. David forgot his fears for a moment, captivated by the ethereal artistry unfolding before him.

  The room was soon a canvas of colors, powders, and meticulously drawn patterns, and Aura stood at its center like a conductor ready to orchestrate a masterpiece.

  David leaned against the corner of the shed, his small hands unwillingly gripping the wooden wall for support. The sense of awe kept growing, sending his heart aflutter. This is it. Show me.

  Aura steadied herself, removing any trace of movement from her body for just a second. Her expression was unreadable, her focus absolute.

  And as she froze, the world froze with her – the sounds from outside stopped coming. Everything was so… silent.

  David’s heartbeat echoed like explosions in his ears. Her arm trembled once, almost invisibly, and then she moved.

  Without opening her eyes, Aura took her first step into the trail of intricate designs. Her movements were slow, cautious, but yearning – inviting the wind to follow.

  Every placement of her foot traced an invisible shape, connecting the patterns together, making them shine one by one. The air stirred as she walked, a gentle ripple that built with each precise step, creating a steady hum.

  As she reached the first bowl, the crimson powder within rose into the air. The fine grains danced upward, caught in an invisible current that twisted and swirled around her. Aura moved with the flow, her steps becoming slightly quicker, the precision of her movements maintaining control over the forming storm of red.

  Soon the air heated, and as she moved on, the flaming tornado followed.

  David couldn’t tear his eyes away if he wanted to, his breath caught in his throat, as if the tiniest sound he made would desecrate the otherworldly experience.

  He felt the prickling return and fade in waves as Aura moved, and he thought back to his experiments – though his own attempt couldn’t even be compared on the same scale.

  The second bowl, filled with sapphire powder, joined the ritual.

  The blue mixed with the red, creating streaks of fire and ice that twirled and twisted in the air. Aura’s body shifted seamlessly, adjusting her movements as if guiding the powders with an unseen thread.

  Her feet traced the lines of the pattern with unwavering precision, her hands cutting through the air in deliberate motions.

  The atmosphere seemed to freeze with every blue grain joining the dance, replacing the previous heat with the howling of arctic wind.

  The prickling feeling now started to fade, as if Aura took all of it away. She drew it in until nothing remained outside her control, the space itself bent to her will in a monumental display of raw power.

  By the time she reached the golden powder, nearly three minutes had passed. Sweat glistened on her brow, but her expression remained steadfast. David marveled at her endurance; the sheer focus and energy she poured into the ritual were nothing short of extraordinary.

  As the golden dust joined the swirling storm, the room transformed into a kaleidoscope of colors. The intense dance of elements replaced by a perfect harmony, the currents of air bending to Aura’s will. The temperature stabilized, no longer jumping between hot and cold, and the vial at the center of the room began to glow faintly.

  Aura’s pace quickened yet again; she was moving around the room at an astonishing pace now - David could barely follow with his eyes. The air seemed alive, almost electric, as the storm formed a whirlpool condensing towards the vial.

  Every step she took, every sweep of her arms, was an act of control – She was guiding streams of fire and ice, while weaving the gold around them.

  The glow of the vial grew stronger, its brass surface reflecting the swirling chaos around it.

  David was mesmerized. His earlier revelation? Child’s play. His unease? Forgotten.

  He watched as the streams flew into the vial, no longer simple powders, but manifestations of elements. Most of it was already inside, the colors bleeding into one another as they were absorbed, forming a sparkling liquid. It was a marvel, an act of creation unlike anything he’d ever imagined.

  Then it happened—a single misstep. It was subtle, so small that David almost missed it.

  One of Aura’s feet slipped just a fraction out of line, crossing the edge and activating multiple runes.

  The air stopped. The swirling froze mid-motion, suspended like a painting.

  Aura’s eyes snapped open, wide with shock. For a moment, the room was utterly still, silent - the energy she had so carefully controlled - paused.

  The image of a wave crashing swept through David’s mind, but he didn’t have time to react.

  Tiny motes of flame and crystals of ice burst all around the shed. A deafening crack split the air.

  A shockwave erupted from Aura’s body, sending everything hurtling backward. The particles, once vibrant and alive, were gone—burnt to nothing in an instant.

  David’s small frame slammed into the wall. His vision blurred from the impact. He slumped to the ground, his head ringing. The prickling returned as a smell of ozone filled the shed. But what happened to him was just an afterthought.

  Aura paid the bulk of the price for trying to anchor such insane amounts of power.

  She laid crumpled on the floor, her body trembling. Deep bruises blossomed across her arms and legs, dark purple and red spreading like ink on her pale skin.

  Blood trickled from her nose, her ears, and the corners of her eyes, the vivid crimson staining her face like tears in a gory display.