They stopped in a narrow glade just before sunset, flanked by tall birch trees and a murmuring brook. The storm had rolled eastward, leaving behind damp earth and a sharp smell of ozone that clung to their clothes.
"Camp here for a quick rest" Sir Merek said, dismounting. "Double watch. We move in a few hours"
The group settled into routine: tents raised, fire built, weapons checked. But Tomlin wasn't settling. He paced near the edge of the trees, fingers twitching with energy. Every few minutes, a spark danced across his knuckles or popped from his shoulder, startling nearby bugs and rookie Hunters alike.
"You're like a walking lantern," Lina muttered as she passed him with a bundle of kindling. "Keep it up and you'll start a forest fire."
"Not my fault!" Tomlin called after her. "I think the lightning likes me."
From where he sat sharpening his blade, Liam chuckled. He watched his friend bounce on the balls of his feet, eyes bright like a kid with a new toy. It was strange — Tomlin had always been eager, but this was something else. It was like the storm had reached inside him and lit a match.
"You're going to explode if you keep pacing like that," Liam said.
Tomlin turned, half-grinning. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just faster now."
Liam raised an eyebrow. "Faster, huh?"
Tomlin tapped the side of his neck. "I can feel it. My blood — it's buzzing. I could probably outrun a horse."
"Care to prove it?"
That did it. Tomlin's grin spread into a full smile. "Spar me."
Liam blinked. "Now?"
Tomlin shrugged. "Why not? We´ve got time. And I need to know if this power makes me better or just... brighter."
Liam sheathed his sword and stood. Around them, the others looked up from their tasks. Fendril raised an eyebrow. Jassa peered over her travel pack. Lina leaned back with a smirk. "Oh this I've gotta see."
Sir Merek, sharpening his own blade a short distance away, said nothing — but his eyes followed them closely.
The two rookies stepped into the clearing, boots sinking slightly into the damp grass. Liam drew his sword — the same well-balanced blade his family had bought from the village smith back home. It had carried him through the spider cave and the goblin ambush. Now, it would test his best friend.
Tomlin spun his new spear once, setting his feet wide. "No Essence attacks," Liam warned. "Let's keep this... survivable."
Tomlin gave a dramatic bow. "As you wish, Ser Liam the Nervous."
They moved.
Liam darted forward, sword angled for a quick tap to the shoulder — but Tomlin vanished to the side in a blur of motion. It wasn't just speed. He slid like water through the air, every step enhanced by that crackling storm inside him.
"Whoa," Liam muttered, adjusting his stance.
"Right?" Tomlin called, grinning. "I didn't even try!"
He struck next, spear sweeping low. Liam barely jumped back in time, landing in a crouch. Sparks flickered around Tomlin's elbows as he pivoted. He was faster, yes — but also more fluid, like the air itself pushed him forward.
The next clash came quicker. Liam feinted left, darted right — managed to tap Tomlin's side, but took a zap to the wrist for his trouble. "Ow!" he hissed, pulling back. "That was a sting."
Tomlin looked apologetic. "Sorry! That just… happens sometimes."
They circled again. Sweat beaded on Liam's brow. Tomlin was unpredictable now, electric in every sense of the word. For a moment, Liam saw a flicker of something in his friend's eyes — pure joy, unburdened and alive. He was in his element.
Tomlin lunged again, this time channeling a little more force. A spark snapped off his spearhead and surged into the ground — and just as Liam raised his sword to block, a streak of lightning arced between them.
CRACK.
Everyone watching ducked. A bolt snapped from Tomlin's palm and blasted the ground a few feet from Liam, leaving a smoldering scorch mark.
Both of them froze.
Liam lowered his sword slowly. "...Was that a controlled strike?"
Tomlin stared at his hands in horror. "I didn't mean to! I didn't—I just felt it coming and—"
"It's fine," Liam said, though his heart was hammering. "No harm."
The clearing fell quiet. Sir Merek stood, stepping forward slightly, but made no move to intervene.
Tomlin's hands still crackled faintly. He clenched them into fists. "I thought I had it," he said, voice smaller now. "I thought I was getting the hang of it."
Liam walked over, gripped his friend's arm. "You will," he said. "You just need practice. Power like that doesn't come with an instruction manual."
Tomlin looked up, surprised. "You're not mad?"
Liam smirked. "If I was mad every time you almost killed me, we'd never be friends."
Tomlin laughed, relieved. "Fair."
From the edge of the clearing, Fendril clapped slowly. "That was terrifying," he said with a grin. "Remind me not to spar with you."
Lina crossed her arms. "Stormboy's got flair. I'll give him that."
Tomlin turned a shade redder than usual. "Stormboy?" he echoed.
"It fits," Liam said. "You just threw lightning at my face."
Tomlin rubbed the back of his neck, smile sheepish but proud. "I did, didn't I?"
They walked back toward the fire as the sun dipped below the treeline. The rest of the group returned to their tasks, but the air was lighter now, and the storm inside Tomlin had quieted — for now.
As they settled into their makeshift camp, Liam glanced at the sky. The horizon bright, the forest near Willowshade looming in the distance.
The real storm was still coming.