Legacy - Christopher Pastrana (books to read in your 20s TXT) 📗

       Death was the only choice left for Reinhardt now. An icy chill touched his skin as ice shards approached. Rage burned deep within his heart and refused to let go. A strange new feeling sparked to life, born from vengeance and anger. Reinhardt reached out and grabbed the closest shadow with the buried power, still struggling to free the latent power. 

        Screams filled ears of every person watching the execution. Terror sprang across the faces of every bandit, not able to see where the sounds originated. The ice elementalist hesitated long enough for Reinhardt to avoid the strike. Free from immediate danger for a few seconds he turned his attention back to the shadows, now fleeing from their prey.

        Reinhardt guided the strange new power after the vanishing shadows, unleashing his anger. The closest of the creatures struggled against his pull, but couldn't escape. He drew the screaming entity into his soul and bound its power to his own. More movement from close by presented him with another opportunity that Reinhardt refused to let escape. He drew another shadow to him and then a third. Every essence bound to his soul made him stronger, and soon he began grabbing more than one at a time. 

        Before the Icile bandit recovered, Reinhardt managed to captured enough shadows to feed the hunger. Every inch of his body tingled with something he had never expected. Power forced its way through him until he was suffocating in its warmth. Deep within his mind Reinhardt sensed his opponent releasing power from her body and taking control of the nearby ice.

        Reinhardt seized control of that ice with the strange new power, and pushed her power away. The ease at which he deflected her attack surprised him. Fear crossed her face when she realized what happened. Confusion flickered across the faces of those watching as a ball of ice formed above his hand.

        The power of an elementalist passed from parents to child at birth. Those lucky enough to awaken the latent abilities within their bodies often spoke of a strange tingling sensation coursing through them during the moment commonly referred to as the awakening. Puberty often sparked the release of their power, but it was common for stronger wielders awaken earlier.  Having been an orphan Reinhardt didn't know if his parents were elementalists. 

        After reaching adulthood the orphanage sent him on his way and left him to fend for himself in the world beyond the safety of those stone walls. Reinhardt only had a few friends in his younger years, but in the end he was alone. Those who displayed even the slightest skill with ice had been recruited into the Icile army. At Reinhardt's age it'd be possible for him to never displayed any level of connection to the elements and still awaken.

        "No it's impossible! An elementalist's shift cannot be broken unless they break the bonds themselves!"

        Even before she confirmed his theory Reinhardt knew something was different. Every piece of trash walking the streets spoke of how an elementalist worked. They had thought they were pursuing a simple peasant, but they were wrong. He couldn't shift in the same manner a normal elementalist but he was able to interrupt her control.

       Only anger remained within Reinhardt's soul. Ready to fight, the woman brought the ice she had gathered around her. The other soldiers drew their swords, prepared to do as they had been trained.

        A wall of ice rose around him, protecting him from the approaching soldiers. Blood gushed from one man's neck as Reinhardt cut deep into him. One by one they fell, until it was only the two of them left standing. Their eyes met and refused to waiver. Earlier she crushed his spirit with that sadistic smirk, but now it had been replaced with fear and panic. With everything she gathered the bandit threw a spear of ice towards him, attempting to kill him before he managed to strike.

        The woman's control over the ice weakened and the spear stopped mid throw. Carefully shaping the spear into a sphere Reinhardt began spinning it in the air playfully. Little spikes began to poke out of the ball. Before she was able to run, shards of ice tore through her arms and legs, pinning her to a tree . Reinhardt picked up one of the swords that had been lying on the ground and walked towards the defenseless women. Rage and hatred burned deep within his eyes and her life, what little remained of it, was going to be agony.

     Smoke and refuse itched in Reinhardt's nose as he pushed the final tree branch out of his way. Large plumes of dirty air rose through the sky from the buildings of a now visible city. Reinhardt had wanted to avoid the city of Odum, but the only passable roads ran through this trade center. During the winter seasons the bristling economy of Duzee came to a standstill nearly everywhere, except Odum. Looking past the city he could feel where he needed to be.

            Tall stone walls loomed before Reinhardt and, even from this distance, he could see they would be nearly impossible to negotiate around. The fortification did what it was intended to do, deter the unwelcome from stepping inside. Knowing that nobody would care if a lone beggar in rags walked through the gate, he preceded onto the soft dirt road nearby and made his way into the Duzee city.

            Winter began settling onto the wind empire only a few weeks prior to Reinhardt's arrival yet most of the scenery was now covered with a fresh, soft blanket of white. Passing travelers and merchants wore heavy winter cloaks. Some of the richer passers wore furs or rode in heavily insulated carriages pulled by large carriage hounds.

            The large dog-like beasts were used by the wealthy to pull their goods from city to city. Having been bread into docility Reinhardt couldn't recall an instance where one had actually attacked a person. A passing hound sniffed the air curiously trying to get a sense of the passing traveler. Reinhardt looked at it turn its attention back to its meal of what looked like wet wheat. Like all carriage hounds it had no teeth, and no claws.

            Its owner was busy chaining the other hounds back to his cart, ready to continue onto Odum. Shaking themselves clean of snow, the hound team began pulling the goods. Watching them walk was always interesting for Reinhardt. To make up for not having claws the docile creatures had been bred with eight fingers, giving them the gift of climbing, a must have for traveling across the mountains of Duzee.

            Snow crunched beneath Reinhardt's feet as he walked, face hidden behind his old cloak. Typically a lone traveler wouldn't be a strange site, but the people of Duzee could tell Reinhardt was Icileian just by looking at him. Duzee natives typically had silver hair, though cross breeding has lead to a more grayish tint. Their skin often remained light due their altitude and the suns inability to break through the thick clouds above their nation.

            Further south in Icilee the peasants had darker skin due to their time spent outdoors but not as dark as the desert walkers of Rornin far across the Sorrows. Their black hair and above average size made them stand out in polite culture. Reinhardt was no exception to this rule. The lone traveler stood a head taller than most of the Duzee natives and had dark brown hair that matched his eyes. These features would instantly announce him as Icileian.

            During most of the year it wouldn't matter where he was from, but war between the two countries always sparked fiercely during the cold seasons due to the snow. Billions of tiny ice particles resting over the entire country gave ice elementalists the perfect tools for striking back at their northern enemies. Heavy winds raged all year long in the mountains of Duzee but Icilee had very little, preventing wind elementalists from reaching out across the lesser expanse.

            Travelers leaving the city turned their heads up to look at Reinhardt as he walked past, giving him more than proper space to walk. The attention, though subtle, would get him noticed if he didn't get into the city quickly. Once he was within Odum's walls it would be harder to pick him out of the populated streets. He was close enough now to see the guards standing near a fire.

            Each of the men wore uniforms of grey and white, colors of the Duzee army. Like most of the Duzee citizens they were small and pale of skin, but they looked to have had countless hours fighting on the battlefield. One at a time he knew he could handle the soldiers but they had experience fighting and would easily use their numbers and spears to counter Reinhardt's size. Knowing he needed to get into the city without causing a scene would be his only hope.

            Travelers and merchants alike were funneled into lines and questioned by the guards before being allowed entry to Odum. With little choice Reinhardt waited in line for his turn. A strange longing to continue ached in his chest. He hadn't been able to place the feeling but it felt like he was being pulled somewhere. Unable to shake the sensation he let himself be guided by it, driven to exhaustion to reach the mystery location.

            As he approached the guards took a few steps back and lowered their spears, putting the heavy metal tips between themselves and the massive man.

            "Lower the hood, Icileian." Complying with the demand, Reinhardt pulled his head free of the cloak and felt the crisp sting of winter air on his cheeks. A few of the guards nearby grabbed their weapons and joined the two questioning soldiers when they noticed what was going on. Looks of disgust and hate sat firmly on a few faces while others looked worried or nervous. Reinhardt couldn't blame them. It was impossible to know who was an elementalist and who wasn't. At this distance a skilled shifter could kill most of them before they could react.

            "What is your business in Odum?" One of the other soldiers asked, almost hidden behind someone else.

            "My farm has been put to the torch by Icilee bandits, my family butchered along with my livestock. I traveled north in hopes of shelter and work." Deciding it was easier to tell most of the truth than lie he told his tale. "Even Duzee has need of workers."

            "We don't need Icileian workers!" One of the men spit.

            "We have no way of knowing if he's a shifter! Gut him and throw him in the fire!" Another one yelled from