Descent

The wanderer's ascent to the sky didn't stop even when the high-pressure cloudburst jet stream ended.

He soared above that layer of the sky.

Spinning, he glanced at the region of yellow that lay beyond the blue of the ocean, which surrounded Ashtrim on three sides.

That region of stark and bright yellow stretched all the way from the direction that people of Ashtrim refer to as 'morning's horizon,' circling the continent from afar beyond the ocean, to the direction known as the 'evening's horizon'.

"That's so beautiful. Ah! My eyes!" The flashes of yellow blinded him from time to time during his ascent.

Once again, the boy lost consciousness.

In the dark of his unconscious self, he fought with the memories that wanted to surface and bamboozle him. He fought them to wake up normally. Memory and ethereal punches met each other only for the memory to be ever more intangible than the soul and will of the wanderer.

"Willfall." Echoed through his blanked out mind.

"Willfall." Again, as he struggled with the attempt to flutter his eyes open.

The boy, flying through the sky like a shot from an arrow, opened his eyes above the sky of Ashtrim. The stars above twinkled while he turned in space, his breath escaping him.

All around him darkness flowed, while stars felt ever closer than the continent below. He had an intrusive urge to touch the stars blooming within him, but his need for survival had him scratching for air in all directions.

He flapped his arms around momentarily. 'Why?' A question on his lips that couldn't escape his mouth, let alone reach his ears.

The wanderer glanced in the one direction that brought more light than the stars did. The yellow patch beyond the oceans.

An idea formed. He pulled his crystal boots closer. He made sure each of the boots had its sole facing upwards to his face and he tapped on the soles thrice of both boots.

The action of fire began its work, away from the land called Ashtrim. "Maybe this action could be used in many places." He said aloud while his body rammed into the upper layer of the sky of Ashtrim.

His tactic brought him air, for the effect by his action of fire chose to be of thrusting flame. Not the other kind of simple burning.

Descent of his choosing began to the continent of Ashtrim. 'Where will I land?' He wondered. 'Better yet, how will I land!' His panic started to show on his face.

He hadn't completely thought through his plan of revenge on the Kingdom of Riga.

The boy's early part of the plan was simple, bring in some Beret coins and exchange them. This part had been followed in several towns before he arrived in Ashtrim the city. He hesitated there to exchange so he only exchanged for a couple. Beret coins required to be kept in perfect condition by people who can't control the shattering effect the coins held.

Going to the city of Cleaving was an important step in his plan because the survivors in Beret discussed no matter who it was, no one will be able to conquer it with the threat that always loomed around Cleaving. He learned of it better there, and gained something extra. The enhancing mixes. He substituted them for his earlier want of forcing whatever threat loomed near Cleaving to somehow trail him and attack Rigac.

The plan had failed even before he could reveal it partially to the city of Cleaving.

He was still falling in the sky of Ashtrim. The effect of flame jet ended about this instant while he contemplated and went over the plan again.

The boy repositioned himself so that his entire body as one fell down rather than his head first. He needed to reposition so for the upcoming thoughts he had created on how to survive.

"I'll still prefer choosing where I land." His words rammed into the high speed winds of the upper sky of Ashtrim.

Below him sprawled the continent like a canvas ever extending in either direction. He couldn't see past the patch of yellow from one horizon to the other. On the other hand, a great white spread over from the evening's horizon snuffing it in its embrace to the blues of the ocean on the left, it becoming and climbing closer to the morning's horizon.

But he spotted some random patches of brown to stop the whites advance in between the white and yellow on the left. He did not understand what it could be?

Snapping back to the present, he set his sights on the continent. His choice of landing had many options, "Hmm, I'll prefer landing in the green patches beyond the mountains. I don't want to deal with the fallout of Kingdom of Riga's demise. Let them crumble, just as Beret crumbled." His tone getting darker with each word.

He attempted spotting a disaster site on the other side of the main mountain chain that cut the continent unevenly. None were visible from his height of falling. The continent still too tiny to make out more than different patches of colour.

"Hmm, does that mean the ocean is much bigger than the continent?" A random genuine question popped in, like the curiosity makes little holes even in the most dreaded situations.

He started hammering with both his arms on his overcoat attempting to break the filled effects due to all those actions of earth earlier. He needed them to lose weight.

Chunks of earth, stone, rock, limestone, metal, steel, wood, and glass fell out from his overcoat. He shook along while falling at tremendous speed. Each strike lessening his weight and scratched up the inner armour he wore.

After several strikes he could feel the wind trying to flap his overcoat open. It was well shut, he smiled to the wind's efforts. "Sorry, it is a bit tighter than usual right now."

Wind didn't reply back. It only pushed him down a bit through some clouds.

The boy began tapping with his left hand very fast sideways.

"Come on, come on, come on." His words becoming a prayer.

His repetition of the action of ice in the clouds started a slow chain reaction of freezing. But he still crashed through faster than it could play catch.

The layers of clouds were freezing and breaking, but what he needed now was something breaking his fall slowly over long duration.

With his other hand he drew out another bottle stuffed safely near his collar, and drank it. The contents once again turned out to be enhancing mix.

Descending through the clouds he drank the bottle dry and tapped on its side with his left hand thrice.

The bottle became the new source of origin for the action of ice. He left it free keeping it right below him. The action of ice attempted to form layers of ice using the surrounding air and light with the bottle as origin.

The boy above him stared dead center at where the bottle was at all times. He needed something to keep catching air and forming layers of ice that he breaks through.

And thus began a fall of ice and a boy.

Layers of ice formed around the bottle as it broke against the force behind the boy's descent.

Each layer broke away a few bits of power the descent had. The wanderer keeping track of the effect's progress and time as he wondered over how the action of ice truly worked.

This current conundrum of his fall through the sky, due to his three day event in Rigac ending with its destruction, did give the wanderer a new perspective on how the action of ice truly functioned. He had avoided using it for it only had one single effect. And that the most important element for humans turned out to be water and earth than fire and ice.

Progress of each new layer began at the entire surface of the bottle and spread out in uneven patterns like lightning.

"More like streams that come together at Cleaving." He considered a comparison. "Except in reverse."

His fall had slowed down significantly that he was way above the mountain range closer to the destroyed city of Rigac. Grabbing on the bottle slightly as the action of ice bit into his fingers he glided towards the reaches beyond the dividing chain of mountains.

"I don't want that part of Ashtrim, ever again!" His cry as childish as his curiosity to disassemble his fall into a trip of experimentation.

Turning away the wind caught him with his bottle and slammed hard against the two.

He rolled in the air violently. His hands flying to catch the bottle or the ice layers that kept forming. In front of him, he saw as the effect of the action of ice died. His bottle slammed hard into his overcoat by the side. The bottle broke apart, but he didn't feel any pain.

The wanderer began drawing another enhancing mix and tapped by its side as he opened and downed its contents. The action of ice began anew, forming new layers.

But his spin that the wind added did not stop. Considering the puzzlement and sick feeling that was arriving onto his face he felt it. He hurried trying to correct himself before his vomit threw up on him.

Finding the sandy patch below all around him many leti-leagues away he threw up sideways. He did not want to fly through the vomit nor wanted it to catch up to him.

Grabbing on his new bottle that originated the effect he called upon using action of ice, the boy tilted away to the sandy patch. Layers after layers slammed against him cutting the momentum he had gained.

Finally, he slowed down so much that he spotted the sands of the desert to be some leagues away.

His descent was nearing its destination. He rolled his legs forward as the layers of ice kept forming and breaking against the boy. Bringing the crystal boots sole as close to his chest as he could he tapped on both downwards.

A fire of burning began. He made the action of water on the side. The flames died. He tapped thrice again. Repeated his previous actions on the failure of not getting the jets of flame.

He exhaled, as another layer of ice slammed hard into him. He realized his speed has slowed down quite a lot. And tapped thrice downwards to get the effect of flaming jets from the action of fire.

Reward awaits the ones who pushes in against the tides of dread.

And the boy was rewarded with the jets of flame. He splitting fast turned them down to avoid getting burned by them. The jets slammed into the ice layers while the ice layers acted as a buffer for the last couple of leagues above the sand.

The wanderer landed on an icy sand dune with his crystal boots aflame and his overcoat brown as ever.