Water

Water, the foundation of life that nurses living things with its soothing touch and rejuvenation. Rain in a drought is considered holy, a gift from the gods. But water can also be a devastating force. Waves reaching high into the sky, downpour the pelts down on people and buildings alike, and floods that approach mercilessly onto dryland. Those who wish to master this element must achieve a certain grace in their movement and their mind to imitate the firm grasp of the sea.

Way of the Raincaller

Show them what it means to pour.

Dark, saturated clouds sat on the horizon, swimming their way over to her. She raised both hands to the sky. Nothing. “Focus.” A voice from behind her came. She was focusing, she’d been focusing for the past hour. “Focus harder.” The voice answered as if it had read her mind. She closed her eyes and thought of the constant rainfall in the rainforest of Xoridge. A small drop of water fell on her palm, and then another. A few more fell on the feathers atop her head, then on her wings. She opened her eyes and looked upwards. It began to pour.

Way of the Cryomancer

Bring upon them a cold they won’t be quick to forget.

Winter had officially set in, leaving every breath with the ability to penetrate deep into one’s body and chill them right to their very core. It was invigorating. How she enjoyed the chattering of teeth as spires of ice formed around her and shattered at her command, giving her the opportune moment to strike at her opponents. She sighed as the last hostile Z'al soldier fell to the soft snow. She was really hoping for a challenge today.

Way of the Seaherald

Command the waters around you and manifest the very fury of the seas.

The ocean was fierce, the clouds in the sky were a deep navy blue. The taste of salt filled the air as sea water clambered its way onto the deck. He stood at the base of the bowsprit, his palm digging into a rope to prevent him from slipping into the saltwater crypt below him. With a deep breath he let go and walked further along the water-covered bowsprit. When he found his balance, he took one more deep breath and began to signal commands the waves that resisted them. The waves listened, and he bent them to his will.

Way of the Wavesmasher

Make them believe they’ve been attacked by a shark.

The two of them were up to their knees in the water on the beach. It was sunny was clear like glass. The day was ripe to prove herself. She was a novice at this, nothing more. Her opponent showed her skill off, waving her arms around so fluidly, with a wake mimicking her movements. She didn’t bother trying to be flashy like that. There was no point embarrassing herself. Her opponent lunged at her, sending her barreling into the water. She took a deep gasp for air as she went under, her opponent holding her there. She kicked and thrashed, attempting only to get the surface for a breath of air. In her mind, she paused for a split second. She thought of the sound of waves, the serenity behind that memory. It was engraved into her head for the next twenty-seconds as she was held beneath the shallows. That serenity dissipated almost instantly as desperation scavenged her lungs for air. Calm waves were replaced with a riptide of ferocity. The water was no longer moving because of her struggling. Waves began to grow around them, the water turned white as it smashed down onto them, freeing her from her opponent's grasp. She lunged above the surface of the water, gasping for air. She stood panting, a riptide of vicious water at her knees and her opponent moved throughout it.

Way of the Avalanche

Crash on them with the full savagery of the crumbling mountainside.

He couldn’t sit still. Not even for a second. The whistling wind brought forward large, puffy flakes of snow that merely slid right off his coat. He was gripping the axe handle so hard the wooden shaft began to groan. “You’re up.” A gruff voice told him. The gladiator jumped up with excitement he nearly hit his head on the ceiling of the wooden shelter they were in. It was clearly not meant for his size. The shackles around his wrists came off and he grabbed the mace that lay beside him with his other hand. The arena handlers eyed him carefully, spears just inches away from his hide. The poorly made wooden door to the arena opened and he found his opponent. Snow spiraled around him as his jaw opened with excitement, his tongue lulled out as he began to pant. Then the frigid wind began to howl.

Way of the Tsunami

Like water upon rock.

The waves were furious, unrelenting. The beach gave them no quarter as the water dragged them out to sea and they were forced to swim back again. It was all pointless as the waves would crash upon the shore and they would repeat the cycle over again. They were all told they had an affinity for water magic. Right now, it didn’t feel like they did. There were many ways to teach someone magic, but this had to be the most extreme. He fought for breath as he swam back to shore. His strength was waning, he couldn’t keep this up all night. He closed his eyes for a moment, as the ocean wound back up and prepared to smash drag on them and pull them out into the abyss. He suddenly felt something click. Something inside him, fluid and firm. It was peace, and it was courage. The water didn’t feel so cold anymore. He got to his knees, the rain battering his face. Had he done it? His mind couldn’t answer that question as the ocean hit him with such fury that might kill lesser men.

Way of the Lakestrider

Serenity can put men at ease. That’s your time to strike.

Mist sat on the surface of the lake, unnaturally still. “Where is he?” Someone dared to whisper. The mist didn’t move. The group of Zlerthans looked nervously at the one who spoke. The silence seemed to get quieter as what looked like a silhouette revealed itself from the unmoving mist. Hands reached to blades as the silhouette got clearer, ripples on the water were the only movement in the statue-like mist. It was almost undetectable at first, it could have been missed with a blink. But it became more obvious every millisecond: the mist began to move.

Way of the Hoarfrost

Cover them in a layer of frost, and keep them frozen.

Ji'dorh was a cold place. The freezing tundras made even the Frost Tolians inhabitants shiver to the bone. But the Fjord’s Fingers were the worst. A wicked arctic wind hammered the cliffside day and night. That is exactly why he chose here to stage his duel. He twirled a few conjured ice crystals in his hands as a silhouette appeared from the freezing mist. The Ashen enemy looked miserable, covered in furs at a futile attempt to stave off the cold. His opponent took his place and threw off the broad cloak he wrapped himself in. Ice and snow danced swiftly across his arms as he smiled at the freezing Ash Chiruptenemy. It was a mistake. Either way, if the freezing cold didn’t kill him, he would.

Way of the River

Move like a current. Be water my friend.

The sound of a creek off in the distance was the only sound that pierced the eerily silent air. Even the sound of her jumping from stone to stone across the running water was silent. She had chased her quarry upstream for quite some time. She had nearly caught up to him. As she rounded the bend in the brook, she spotted him standing there and facing her. He wasn’t alone. There were three men with him now, all armed and waiting. She stopped to atop a rock in the stream. They all trudged through the ankle high water towards her. She clenched her fists, and the rocks around her began to submerge as the gurgling creek began to rise.

Page updated

Google Sites

Report abuse