Thomas arose from his slumber feeling zombified. He had barely slept a wink all night, having trained into the early hours of the morning, long past when the others had lost interest and turned in. On repeated occasions, Krag had begged him to shoot him with some electricity, but Luran had smacked Krag over the head and forbidden it. If it were not for his burning desire to learn more about his abilities, he would certainly have spent all day in his bed to catch up on his lost sleep.

  Sure, he felt awful, perhaps the most drained he had ever felt, but it was all worth it. Not only could he now wield electricity, but he had a solid grasp of how it functioned. The body constantly puts out bioelectricity in the form of heartbeats and nerve impulses, and he could direct the flow of this bioelectricity and expel it from his body. The strength was very limited, and he couldn’t take too much for fear of hindering bodily processes, but it was fast—unbelievably fast.

  To generate a stronger current, he had to call upon his pool of essence to generate electricity in his core from scratch. It was still quick, but there was a slight delay, unlike utilizing the electricity already flowing within his body. He suspected this gave him an inherent speed edge over other Summons. For example, he recalled Maeve, his predecessor, had wielded fire. Fire, of course, didn’t exist within the body; therefore, theoretically, he should have her beat for speed. Power, though, was an entirely different issue.

  Through his experiments into the early morning, he had become acutely aware of the various channels through which electricity flowed in his body. He named these ion channels. Before long, he found that he could send electricity down any channel, but some felt easier to use than others. His arms, for example, were simple. They took almost no concentration to use. His head, on the other hand, not so much. Fortunately, he couldn’t foresee an issue arising from that.

  After sending current through an ion channel, it nested just beneath the skin, ready for release. And then, after initiating its release, a kind of gate opened. These, he called, ion gates.

  It became clear after expelling electricity from various parts of his body that his fingertips were the optimal choice. This was not only because he favored the ion channels in his arms, but also because it was easier to direct the flow out of those ion gates. By pointing his finger, he could better direct the resulting burst of electricity.

  To uncover all of this insightful knowledge in a single session was highly encouraging, but his efforts also brought to light a fatal flaw in his power—accuracy. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t aim well, even using his fingers. Fat lot of good it was directing the flow of electricity to the correct gate, only for it to shoot out in any which direction it wanted.

  There was even one time when he pointed his finger at the tree in front of him, only for the electricity to burst out the opposite way, striking him on the nose. Fortunately, he was immune to his own shocks, but it was still startling.

  It seemed electricity simply had a mind of its own. Even if by sheer chance the burst ejected at the correct angle, the bolt arced in a fractal pattern, giving little indication of where it was going to strike. It was essentially like throwing a dart at a dartboard blindfolded… and he didn’t know where the dartboard was. This didn’t bode well for combat. In its current state, it was completely ill-equipped for ranged attacks. A damn shame. He had been dreaming of shooting lightning from his fingertips like Electro.

  Given this reality, he had concluded that for the time being, he would only use his electric powers through touch. That way, he wouldn’t mistakenly zap an ally. Besides, he found shooting electricity significantly more burdensome on his essence. It gobbled it right up! Electrocuting via touch, on the other hand, was far more resource-efficient.

  Of course, this presented its own issue. To electrocute through touch, he would have to get in close and dodge swords, claws, teeth, and whatever else came at him, which was never going to work. He needed to get stronger. Faster. More perceptive. All of the above.

  Word of his electricity-wielding spread throughout the village like wildfire. He was surprised how something so small could drum up so much chatter, but then again, he realized they had probably been expecting various shows of electricity, and he’d shortchanged them in that regard. It was only natural for them to respond this way. He suspected Krag was to blame, although this was nothing more than a hunch.

  The liveliness was especially apparent at breakfast. The ekari were more rambunctious today, and he was getting a great deal more glances in his direction than normal, and that was saying something. Wanting to escape the attention, he quickly dispatched his food and headed off to the training area. Most of the warriors had not yet arrived, but Luran was present and standing to attention. Almost as if he expected his arrival.

  “Where are the others?” Thomas asked. Luran looked over his shoulder.

  “Oh, you mean Ela and Krag? Krag is lifting weights, and Ela is still in bed, I suspect. No discipline, that one,” he snorted, looking in the direction of her hut, creasing his brow. “Although we were all up pretty late last night. Some later than others,” he added, a faint smile painting his face.

  Drawing his sword, he playfully pointed the tip at Thomas before walking further into the training area to find a nice spot to spar. Thomas drew a wooden sword from the pile and stood opposite.

  “So what are we drilling today? More fundamentals?” Luran shook his head.

  “You’ve got your electricity now. Time to meld it with your swordplay.”

  Thomas flinched back in apprehension.

  “I can’t use my electricity here!” he squealed, “It—it goes wild when I shoot it out! I might hit someone!”

  “Who said anything about shooting it?” Luran tempted with a menacing smile. Thomas lowered his sword.

  “How do you know about that?” he said, tilting his head. Luran prowled around him from a distance as if he were an animal locked onto his prey.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “I told you before that I had my eye on you. There is nothing you do that I cannot see.” Thomas tried to hide his unease. That was more than a little ominous. Clearly, unbeknownst to him, Luran had stuck around out of sight to watch his progress, long after he had supposedly gone to bed. However, he could hardly blame the man for his deception.

  Luran took his role of warrior very seriously—far more so than the rest. He thought he’d started to win him over, only a little, but it seemed that assessment was well off the mark.

  “And as I said before, I’ve got nothing to hide. Monitor me all you want. I’m just surprised that you’re so—” without warning, Luran leapt from his position and slashed at him with his sword. Thomas was caught completely off-guard despite Luran’s menacing behavior, but he surprised himself by jumping backward and narrowly missing the blade.

  “What the hell?!” he shouted. “That would have hurt!”

  Luran attacked again, ignoring his plea.

  “In a battle, you can be attacked at any time, or any place,” he barked, swinging his sword repeatedly. “A warrior who isn’t prepared for battle at any moment is a warrior destined to die!”

  Thomas rose to meet the ekari’s blade and desperately defended the attacks that followed. They were far from Luran’s best, but he figured that was the point. The exercise was just about being able to hold his own and be ready for anything.

  After a six-strike combination, Luran backed away momentarily before winding up an overhead slash. Thomas saw the strike coming up and pivoted to the left, counterattacking with a sideways strike, but Luran was too quick. Rather than crushing him on the head with his sword, he attacked Thomas's sword, smashing into it with his overhead slash.

  The force ejected the sword from his hand, and the ekari followed up with a straight punch to the nose. He crumpled to the ground in agony.

  “There. I owed you that one.” Thomas clutched at his nose as it streamed with blood. “Is that all you can muster? Some Summon you are. Where is this electricity you speak of? Waiting to die before you use it?!”

  Thomas looked up at Luran through watering eyes with such disdain that he might implode.

  “What do you have against me?!” he screamed. “I do everything you people ask. You think I wanted this?! Any of this?! I miss my home! I miss my sister! The last thing I want is to fight for you people,” he growled, baring his teeth. Luran cackled mockingly.

  “You can’t fight for anyone. Look at you!” he yelled, wide-eyed. “You’re weak! At this rate, you’ll be dead within a month, and then we can go back to the simpler times before you arrived, stinking up the place with your filth,” he spat. Thomas grabbed his sword and rose to his feet.

  “I am not weak. Not anymore,” he seethed, drawing back his blade.

  “Then show me,” goaded Luran, before charging once again.

  The onslaught of strikes was relentless, and they were too fast to counterattack with his sword. Thomas tried summoning a tidal wave of electricity in his core to incapacitate Luran, but he found he couldn’t concentrate enough to summon it—his mind was too preoccupied defending Luran’s attacks.

  Remembering his experiments from last night, he switched his strategy, opting for speed. He called forth the electricity already in his body and accumulated it in his free hand. Primed, he thrust his hand at Luran’s face. The ekari saw it coming from way off and dodged, causing the electricity to harmlessly fizzle away. Thomas growled in fury and followed up with a sword thrust, but Luran deflected it with ease.

  Next, he targeted Luran’s free arm. It was out to the side of his body for balance, so ripe for attacking. He swiped with his sword from the right, before diving in with his free hand to zap Luran—one touch was all he needed.

  As he lurched forward, Luran withdrew his arm and placed it behind his back like some form of pompous entertainer. This made Thomas even angrier. He was toying with him.

  After another string of failed attacks, his frustration reached a boiling point. He threw caution to the wind, abandoning defense with his sword, and began swiping relentlessly at Luran with his free hand, desperately trying to make contact. The ekari tutted and shook his head in disappointment, methodically stepping backward to evade each lunge.

  “If this were a real fight, you’d never choose this strategy. Seems you need reprimanding,” he scalded, swatting at his attacking hand with the flat of his sword. Thomas winced in pain and drew his sword up to defend. Luran took this as an opportunity to begin attacking again.

  How he hated this man. His pretentious attitude. His twisted teaching methods. But most of all, his unjustified convictions of him. He was strong, and he would show him. As he backpedaled, defending a barrage of strikes, he once again called upon his essence to summon a mountain of electricity, and once again, it flickered out of existence almost as instantly as he couldn’t concentrate. He needed breathing room.

  Identifying a small window in between Luran’s attacks, he caught the ekari’s sword early and kicked him in the solar plexus. Luran didn’t wince like one might expect, but he did stumble backwards, and this was all the time Thomas needed. He called on his electricity, and it answered. Multiplying rapidly until it was many times stronger than what he had ever generated before.

  As Luran charged, he shot it through the ion channels in his free arm and opened the gates in all five of his fingers for maximum spread. He may not have had accuracy on his side, but at this distance, surely one of the five bolts would land.

  They burst out of him in various directions. One narrowly missed Luran’s head, and another shot between his legs. Unfortunately, none landed. At least, not on Luran.

  A scream of agony reverberated around the village from his right. He turned to the side in alarm.

  No.

  It couldn’t be.

  He hadn’t.

  He hadn’t meant to do this—what had he done?

  Lying on the ground was an ekari warrior spasming in agony, blue streaks of electricity snaking around her body. Several ekari warriors rushed to her side, concerned for their injured comrade.

  “YOU!” Luran snarled, kicking him in the chest with such force that he felt his ribs might shatter. He landed on his back, breathless, and gasping for oxygen. “Look what you’ve done!” he condemned, his face contorted, and eyes full of rage. “All you humans are the same. I don’t know why I put any faith in you!”

  “Faith in me?!” Thomas croaked, barely able to get the words out. “You have a funny way of showing it,” he contested.

  “And how would you like me to show it?” Luran ridiculed. “By holding your hand? By singing you goodnight lullabies? WE ARE WARRIORS!” he boomed, slamming his foot down like a giant. “This was nothing but a test!” he screamed. “A test to show your resolve. And you failed. Emphatically. You, yourself, said that electricity was too dangerous to use at range, and look what you’ve done!” he exclaimed angrily, pointing to the injured woman. “Is this the height of your resolve? You faltered at the very first sign of provocation.

  “We ekari, are only as strong as our weakest link. We rely on each other to watch our backs, to put our flesh on the line to shield our comrades. But look at you! You would harm your comrades if it meant saving your own skin. Despicable! I will not stand in arms with one as weak-willed and volatile as you,” he chastised, grabbing him by the top of his chestplate and pulling him in close. “You. Are no warrior,” he declared, before dropping him to bask in the torment of his failure.