Halden was awoken violently from his sleep. He jolted up into a sitting position, but for a split second, was still not awake. His eyes were open but had not yet adjusted. For the shortest time, all he saw was a blinding light, and could only feel. The heat and sweat were both very real, though it seemed for the shortest time he was dreaming. He woke up from one Chaos and was thrown swiftly upon another. Flames! He felt, more than saw, and it was another moment before he discovered he was the source. From the time he opened his eyes until he was able to stand up and begin to beat his legs was only a few seconds. He grabbed his knife out of its belt pouch and cut the laces of his pants, stripped them off, and began to furiously beat the fire from them. Fortunately, leather just happens to be one of those things that doesn't burn all too well. He thought a moment about the cloth he saw everywhere in town, and then thought gratefully to himself that his was a northman. Animal skins are about all there is for clothing up in the snow and the woods. Even still, his pants from the thigh on down were blackened with holes melted through them, and the stink of burning hair and tanned flesh floated most univitingly in the air. He started to breathe again, slowly, forcing his control over his excitement and fear that still lingered. He looked down at his legs, which were patched with burnt hair and red rash-like burns. As the adrenaline left his body, he began to notice his wounds tangibly. He looked at the fire that he had made the night before, presumably the cause of the whole incident. Only smoldering embers, well away from where he was sleeping. His pulse was still high, and his heart was beating hard enough to feel it in his throat. His body, still covered with sweat, and now this soot of his wardrobe as well. He needed to calm down. He was not far from a stream, and so made his way there. It was easy enough to find. He had camped close to it after filling his waterskin the night before, and the moonlight reflecting off the water allowed for ample light. He leaned over and shimmied off his mail and tunic, his member casually swaying all the while between his bare legs, leaving him stark naked in the forest in the dead of night. As he stepped down the bank into the stream, the cold water made him flinch. But he walked in up to his thighs, as the water wasn’t much deeper than that. As the water touched his skin, it was as if it was shouting at his wounds, not letting him forget or ignore them. Again he tried to calm himself. Slow his breathing, relaxing his muscles. But his body wasn’t slowing. His heart still racing, sweat still perforating him like a rag being wrung out. It felt unnatural. An anxiety about nothing. He dropped down to his knees and plunged himself into the stream. As he rose, wiping the water from his face and hair, he noticed smoke…or rather steam, rising off his chest and abdomen. He felt his skin, but it was not overly hot. And at once it struck him. He doubled over, clutching a pain in his head as if struck by a rock, or a migraine that just appeared. He felt an energy coursing through him. Now even the water around his legs began to bubble up and hiss off mistily into the night. He did not know what force was overtaking him, but he surely wished to expel it from himself. He could not hold onto himself any longer. He only wished to release whatever was within him. He shouted mightily, and shook the night air, stretched out his arms as if to overtake the world, and just let go.
spontaneous magic (Harm/Fire - 3-3-1) (2 shifts)
