The Blood Solution (Approaching Infinity Book 3) by Eisenlauer Chris

Author:Eisenlauer, Chris [Eisenlauer, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Chris Eisenlauer
Published: 2012-12-09T16:00:00+00:00

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Two days later, Buurak Aareks and Pendel Faaiz sought Braams at his private training grounds for advanced instruction. They walked the sandy path, pushing great palm fronds from their faces and shared a look when the sounds of Braams’s training began to grow audible.

A low roar came and went, as if from a tiger, running up and down the beach in pursuit of prey. Following the roar was an inevitable hiss which marked the sound for what it really was: Braams’s fire as it challenged and ate through the wind.

Aareks and Faaiz continued along the path until it opened upon a secluded beach, to which neither they nor any other current acolyte had ever been. What they saw, astounded them. Both had seen footage of Braams’s circuit fights, Aareks had even seen the Red Tiger’s final match firsthand two years ago against Kars Kromma on Iss at Sovros Arena, but here, unfettered by the confines of the ring or the proximity of thousands of spectators, Braams’s true power could be witnessed. They stopped, still half hidden by foliage, and gawked at what they hoped lay ahead for them.

Knowing what they did now of the prophecy, and seeing Braams filling the air with currents of fire, streams of liquid flame that soared and twisted according to his sweeping arm movements and more subtle hand and finger positions, there was no doubt in either’s mind that he was the one to lead them, to defend them, to see them to victory if victory could be had. And how could it not? Braams danced in place, spinning on the ball of his bare right foot, sending a coil of flame up into the air only to have it peak some thirty meters up and rain back down upon the sand, a pouncing tiger sent from the heavens, to scorch the silicon into a bowl of shining glass and leap back into the air again, always following the direction Braams’s clawed hands.

Braams conducted his fiery symphony, creating more and more currents, each of which taking on semi-independence, rising, crossing, falling, sometimes combining. He released one stream to create another only to return to the previous stream, reset its path, move on to still another until the sky was an intricate red, orange, and white stained-glass intaglio in three dimensions.

The heat from the blaze was becoming uncomfortable for Aareks and Faaiz. Sweat beaded and hung heavy upon them, soaking their simple white acolytes’ clothing, but all they could do was stare open-mouthed. They new that Braams was moving towards a crescendo.

And he was. Braams leapt up through his lines of living flame, sinking his fingers into this one and that, redirecting courses according to a plan only he knew. When he reached a height of five meters he slowed to a halt and hovered. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving with a slow deliberate rhythm, the look of satisfied exhaustion upon him. He inhaled sharply, looked to the sky and drove a flurry

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