Water swirled around my hand, fire twirled around his. With complete synchronization, we walked in circles, weary, waiting for one to attack first. Alarms blared in my head, but the silence was deafening where we stood. The crunching of our feet was a welcome noise, to give me anything else but the sound of his breathing matching mine. I didn’t want to do this, it was like fighting my brother, no, myself. I understood the spirit standing in front of me better than myself, knew what his first move was going to be, knew the cramp he would get if he did a round house kick, knew the hard, lean muscles that might strike me, leave me unconscious, but come back to carry me back to the cave. But for the first time, I had no idea why he was fighting.
It was usually an attack, but this time his eyes weren’t blood stained, he wasn’t twitching, and he was calm. Calm but raging, how could that be? How can someone look peaceful on the outside but is really boiling on the inside?
I recognized the tone, raging, but with a hint of something else? Before I could think of what to do, he made his move. His lips pressed together. Faster than I could see, fire started searing through my clothes. Even though water is supposed to beat fire, what happens when a drop of water is thrown in a fireplace? My clothes burned and burned, until the fire reached my skin. Then it stopped. Just like that. I couldn’t stand the pain. Water, I need water. My already burned legs burned once more as I ran through the jungle, towards the sound of trickling. Finally I made it to the stream. It was a long thin stream, deep enough for fish to swim in, and deep enough for my legs to be covered. I gained instant relief when I put my legs into the water. I finally could see how badly my legs were damaged, and as I looked down, expecting tender and charred skin, I gasped. There was nothing at all
My breathing was heavy, and I was sprawled on the couch. My eyes opened fast, looking directly at my legs. There really was nothing there. My computer screen blinded me as I tried to read what was on the screen. I started typing furiously, only thinking one thought. I finally dreamed of another book to write.