Smoldering Jinn

393 AC - The Jinn crackles. Its skin smokes and splits, dark as coal, while beneath the surface the embers still glow. Like the fire smoldering in a hearth. I force myself to loosen my shoulders—or at least try to. Under its watch, I am safe… and its heat will dry my clothes, soaked through by the storm, just as surely as it will cook the fish I caught, gutted, and skewered on wooden sticks before planting them in the ground. On my shoulder, Surge cymbals away in his cicada form, while I stare into the fire and try to glimpse the face of my beloved within it. Ember. I knit my brows. Ember of embers, why is it Kojo’s face that comes to me? I grit my teeth and let out a sigh.

He’s no longer a brat, even if he sometimes still acts like one. He’s immature and, at the same time, too old to be my student. Yet he carries an explosive energy, sharp enough to rival my own—and maybe even surpass it… A vital quality for anyone who would become a swordsman. He isn’t disciplined, but when he sets his mind to something, his determination never wavers. I remember him hurling himself at the Hunger, with a recklessness bordering on stupidity. Is it right to watch him run headlong into ruin without stepping in? Suddenly, blue, searing flames leap from the Jinn’s embers. What are you getting yourself into, Atsadi? Do you really believe there’s a rough diamond under that coal?

ATSADI