Through The Fractured Lens

Lucian

As the night grows cold, we sit around the fireplace Draven has just constructed using a bit of fire manipulation he's been learning.

Draven's powers have always been an interesting mystery to me.

He says he's just now learning these things, however he takes such mastery in these skills like he's known them his entire life—or much longer.

Despite that, I feel comfortable around him.

And whatever he doesn't feel like telling me, I'm totally fine with it all in the end.

He's got a reason for it, and... I won't pry too much.

Draven looks on over to me. "You want a drink, kid?" as he pulls out two flasks, presumably of alcohol he got back at the city.

"You know, I am only 10," I sent back.

"If you're old enough to practically die just to see the next day, I think having a drink is the least of your worries right now," Draven replied, which, he was right.

Without replying, I snatched one of the flasks right out of Draven's hand.

I popped the lid open to take a swig.

Reeling back in a weirdly satisfying disgust, Draven doesn't say anything when he notices, just lets off a smirk.

He puts back his another flask and instead pulls out a cigarette. He put the flask neatly back into his side pouch before lighting his cig.

As we were resting in silence by the camp, Draven looks up over at me, wanting to say something yet... it was obvious he can't quite say it. "What is it?" I asked, which seemed to almost startle him a bit, as he realized that I knew he was trying to ask something.

"Ah, it's nothing..."

"No, tell me," I insisted.

"Nothing better to do around here," I finished.

Draven let out a sigh before looking up at me. "Hey kid, what do you wanna do in life? I mean, I know I sound quite crazy for asking a 10 year old this, but you clearly aren't the average 10 year old."

Before I could answer, he kept talking. "While I don't necessarily care too much about how you are the way you are, I just kind of want to know more about what you're planning."

"Planning?" I asked.

"Sorry, sorry. I guess I just meant your plans for the future," he finished.

"That's quite an odd question to be asking someone my age... but to answer your question, I really just... don't know."

"It's all just tiresome. Everything," I continue.

"Tell me, Draven, if you died now, will they remember your name in 100 years?" I asked.

Draven was expressionless to the bone. It was clear he didn't really know how to answer my question, but he began to speak up anyway, which I admired.

"You know, I'm not sure they'll even remember my name next week. Hell, I even forget my own name sometimes," Draven began, chuckling to his own words just slightly. His ability to laugh at something so concerning is beyond me.

"Life is just too short to be moping around, kid. We've been running around these woods for 3 years now, yet it still feels like just yesterday I found you with those bandits," he continued.

"We're all just a couple dumb choices away from being forgotten. So why waste time acting like it's all so serious and depressing?"

Before I could answer, he kept speaking, shutting me off intentionally.

"One day, you'll realize that death's already pulling you by the leg—ready to swallow you whole at any point."

"But at that moment, do you want to be the guy drowning in what could have been, or the guy looking back on what was?"

Draven let out a breath.

"Maybe I won't be remembered in a hundred years, or maybe I will. Maybe, at some point in my life, things go a bit differently than I had imagined,"

"Despite everything, I do know I won't spend today acting like I'm already dead."

"That's easy for you to say," I muttered.

As a choking silence began enveloping us around the campfire, I knew he was finished. He pulled out the flask he had tucked away not too long back, popping the cap off and damn near chugging down the whole container.

He definitely acknowledged what I had thrown out, and after a minute of nothing, I expected him to just shrug it off.

Hide behind another smug remark or a silly smirk covering his face.

But this time, he didn't.

"They don't exactly hand out second choices on a silver platter, so you might as well make what you got count."

"Funny you say that," I whisper under my breath.

"Huh?" Draven shouted.

I didn't answer, regretting even saying anything in the first place.

"Listen kid, I don't know what exactly the deal is with you, nor do I care enough to be honest. The only thing I care about is having enough alcohol to not feel any regret in the end."

"Just live in the moment man. Don't worry about the history books. Life is one hell of a show, just sit back and enjoy it."

Slightly annoyed, I retorted. "You make it sound so simple."

"Cause it is. You just don't want it to be," Draven snapped back while also keeping his composure, empty flask shaking around in his hand.

I was utterly stunned by his words.

The rest of the night went by in a flash. Sitting around the campfire in silence until we both headed off to our sleeping bags. No matter the hours that had passed, I was still attempting to process what he had said.

How does this old man who keeps drinking his life away, with nothing to show for his years, keep maintaining such a positive outlook on... everything?

Unable to understand any of it, I saved it for another day.

After all, I have many of those to spare.

***

"Ready to go?" Draven shouted, startling me awake.

It seems I fell asleep again.

"Yeah yeah, I've been ready. Was just resting my eyes for a moment," I mumbled.

"Sure," Draven replied, before kicking me in the stomach.

"Hey! What the hell was that for?" I shouted.

"To get up. I ain't got time to waste sitting around here you know. Places to be, and more importantly, money to make," Draven exclaimed.

Without replying, I shot up out of fear of being hit once again.

Packing everything up quickly, I bolted over to catch up with Draven, who appeared to waste no time in leaving the moment he saw me getting up, leaving me already out of breath not even a few minutes into our journey.

Even though it had been a few years with him, I am still only 10. My body still needs more time to fully develop, which does slightly irritate me at times.

"You been practicing your spirit manipulation recently?" Draven asked.

"I try to, but I don't really know what I can improve on with it. I mostly want to figure out how to manipulate the elements," I replied back.

"Well we got quite the loot from our recent hiring yesterday. Let's trace on back to Vorrak and rest for a few weeks, I got someone who might be able to help with that."

"Really?" I asked, my excitement glowing. Finally, something that's actually new.

"Yeah. Although he is quite the jerk, he's skilled. And plus, he owes me a favor," Draven finished.

"How many people owe you favors?" I snarled.

"Enough to leech whenever I don't feel like getting any work done! Lending a helping hand whenever you can is more beneficial then you might think!"

Draven's calm attitude slightly annoyed me, but I digress.

"Does this 'guy' of yours manipulate any elements himself?" I asked, curious.

"Lightning. And one of the best in Vorrakhan," Draven snapped back, taking a strange pride in that answer of his.

When it came to manipulating elements, lightning was one of the more rare manipulations to find amongst people through my time.

Fire and water was the most common, as water was the first I had ever seen in this world.

The rarest seemed to be manipulating the wind and earth around you. While I don't quite understand the difficulty behind it, the lack of wielders I've read about makes me wonder quite a bit about it.

Despite my questions, I'll hopefully have some answers in due time.