Chapter 2: A Grim Change (III)

A soft trickling and thrumming sound made its way from the top of the northern mountains until it flowed down a feasible path towards a lake.

Seeping and snaking, the gentle brook slipped past the forest's boulders in a manner similar to the painter's brush against a canvas.

The small brook made its way down the mountainside, as it had a transparent hue to it showcasing the refined water it contained. As it was no wider than 1 foot. The shallow brook slowly ran down the sides as the sunlight basked the brook with soft chords of light.

Wild bugs and creatures bathed in the sunlight that seeped through the canopy as they enjoyed the fresh plentiful water that dribbled slowly emanating a meaningful aura.

However, the subtle sounds of the trickling brook were blocked out by the cries in irritation me.

"Shoot, why is the ice not working," I complained irritably as I tried to force out mana and freeze the brook but the only return was vehement threats.

The ability of course didn't work, as every time a part of the brook froze, the other part would shatter the ice into glass shards. The simple motion of the water moving downhill generated energy and friction was enough to completely obliterate my work of art.

However, it was nonetheless good practice but it didn't seem to showcase the extensive results of my training.

Though the brook could not help but splash droplets of water in other directions which I took the moment to freeze. However, there was still a problem with my gift, which couldn't really be used in combat.

That was not to say that it was effective. In the beginning, I could only use his power a total maximum of 5 minutes a day. After a week of the same training, I had only increased it to a total estimate of 7 minutes of the day.

The rate of progression was horrendously slow, almost like growing an oak tree sapling and waiting patiently for it to grow. With each year, a drop of that patience would evaporate into nothing until your expectations would be shattered.

None the less have no effective way for me to visualized my results.

What I needed was a still body of water that didn't move. A lake.

I would try to freeze a part of the lake each day and see how much of the lake would be frozen each day, then compare it with the following days.

Using my ability, I also found that I could apply a semi 'frost-like' effect on the sword where small amounts of the frost would condense on my blade which made my total attack strength with my sword twice as strong as before.

Though, using that ability had a rebound which made my hands tremble uncontrollably and relentlessly while wielding the sword, which all in all made the technique useless.

Frustrated yet continuing to travel downhill, it was logical to follow the brook downhill which should theoretically lead me to either a drainage basin where the water would be deposited to a lake, pond or an ocean— though I had been living here for a while and I was certain that there would be no oceans here.

I moved quickly yet observant down the hills as I noticed a bilberry bush ripe with azure blueberries

The bilberries themselves were almost identical to blueberries but the common difference was the size and the wavy branches that it originated from.

Plucking a few, and popping them shallowly in my mouth, giving off a light yet tart-like flavor.

My grumbling stomach was satisfied once again.

Smiling, I continued to run down the mountain hill, full speed as it helped me increase my stamina— one hand holding the sword. Dodging and weaving around the large oak trees and leaping over fallen timbers, it felt fun yet exhilarating.

The soft crackle of the dried grass was made with every footstep. Once in a while, I pulled out my sword and slashed one of the great oaks, making a visible mark in the trees. Though it wasn't strong enough to complete slice it in two, I hoped that one day I could accomplish such a feat.

Leaping towards the left, I dodged a jagged branch that poked precariously, missing me by a few inches.

Slashing that as the solemn branch fell towards the ground, I continued to race through the forest— the momentum carrying me on.

This whole time, I didn't stop once against the will of my aching legs. In the distance, I could start making something out of the silhouettes shallow oak trees

A figure!

Someone needed help. I picked up my speed as the contour in shade became more distinct.

It appeared, that the silhouette was unravished, impoverished as the red and blue button-down shirt along with his shorts was now in tattered rags. Although my own clothes were in no better condition than his.

The outline appeared to be leaning on a rugged tree as leverage and coughing up something.

Vomit? As an acrid smell drifted somberly through the air.

A horrendous puddle vomit that gave a pungent from where I stood. The atrocious odor not relenting from other air as it gave off a dry and amaroidal stench. The pool of liquid and the person's location himself gave me clues about what was happening.

The tree that he leaned on housed branches full of light prickly leaves and in the center contained a dark cardinal berry.

At that moment, panic rushed in like a tidal wave as I recognized those berries.

When I was around seven, my grandma certainly wasn't impoverished enough to afford presents on Christmas. On the eve, I went out searching for berries to be plucked, a basket in one hand and a bottle full of excitement in the other.

Through the forests, I found the same exact trees near the lake which I recognized as those berries on those Christmas wreaths. My grandmother instructed me to only pluck those I recognized and she deems to be safe.

But I recognized those Holly berries on those Christmas ornaments which at least satisfied one of the requirements— so I should be fine? Right?

Plucking a few, it was surprising how these berries made it through the lacerating winds of the winter. The berries were ripe and plump as if enduring the frigid gales of winter was nothing. If such fruit could last no longer, I couldn't let down such an opportunity.

Immediately, the berries flavors entered my taste buds and tasted slightly acidic. Though I knew there this was a great opportunity to turn this into a pastry as the acidic flavor could compliment the dough quite well.

Plucking more, some went into my mouth and the others went into the basket. I headed back home while the chilly gales of winter mangled more of the surroundings.

The more I walked, I found myself tired and a bit lightheaded.

Just the coldness sinking in, I should hurry up.

Trudging through the whining winds, I found myself being more tired and lightheaded. Often having to take a rest almost every 5 minutes which I didn't seem to realize at that time.

Soon nausea and vertigo turned into vomiting which eventually causing me to collapse in the polar-white snow— falling unconscious.

I awoke later, on Christmas morning which my grandma warned me to never eat those berries as those could have killed me. Nodding somberly, the rest of the Christmas was enjoyed in peace as I was gifted a knew a metal sword which I still held onto wield as of currently.

Standing, and seeing another person sick and vomiting after eating those berries create a small pang in my heart as the experience was dreadfully similar.

The memory itself was tentative yet fresh in my mind as the tragic events could not relent their grasp on me. Sighing, a part of my mind coerced myself to go help the man— such that the devil's temptation against embracing such an idea failed.

The man had light black hair almost in a similar color to my hair but he had a sharp silver tint to it. My hair yet at the same time was pure black.

Running up to him, I stopped right dead in my tracks as just a few meters separated me from the man who stood coughing up vomit. Shocked I realized who it was.

Kivdre.

Looking up, Kivdre smiled with a toothy grin before coughing another ghastly ball of vomit that was heavily tainted with a dark crimson hue.

"You…"

Me?

"You fucker, come back here. This is all your fault!"

?