PART 1– The Rain Dance.
It is said that it only takes a summer for a boy to become a man — after just five months, Ezra's shoulders had broadened, his limbs stretched long and his shiny almost burgundy hair had grown so far past his eyes he no long needed a beanie to hide them.
The pair travelled far without any real destination. Central isles. Southern belt. Distortions destroyed. Lessons learned. Laughs shared.
The crops were dry, too dry. Brittle like dead wood. Brown like sand. Pedro ran his fingers through the wheat and whole pieces fell away at the slightest touch.
"Don't worry about payment," Pedro told the villager.
"A place to rest and lesson for my follow here is plenty."
The villager grasped both of Pedros hands, eyes shining with relief. A mountain had been lifted been lifted from his back. He hurried off to spread the news, leaving Pedro glance towards Ezra with a familiar grin.
"Water conversion might just be the the hardest element to master. Air constantly around you and east to mirror. But water? Water is always changing." He wagged his finger.
He leaned closer.
"And we don't even have water for you to practice with."
Ezra knelt beside the falling crops. The villagers were gathering at the far end of the field, watching them anxious hope.
"Even if we water everything."
Ezra grew quieter and covered his mouth as he spoke.
"What stops the next batch from drying up? Or the one after that?"
Pedro places his hand on Ezra's shoulder.
"Tell me, Ezra…. Have you ever heard of the Rain dance."
Ezra raised an eyebrow.
"Rain dance? Like the rituals in kids books."
"That's right. But not just any old rain dance. The rain dance. The first noted act of modern day sorcery."
Ezra sighed and sat down by the crops. He recognised that look Pedros face.
Story time….
"There was once a great sorcrer." Pedro began.
"By the name Argala. Born in the age when sorcery was forbidden. Considered the birth of ash, a stain on human purity."
He traced shapes into the dirt as he spoke.
"Argala was a pioneer. One of the founders of what sorcery is today. Nine centuries of history tied back to her name. One day, wounded from battle, she collapsed at a small farmstead. When she woke, her wounds stitiched and a crust of bread left by her side."
Ezra listened quietly.
"She heard arguing from outside the barn."
Pedro continued deepening his voice.
" 'Why wouldst thou waste our last bread on that strange' they shouted'."
Pedro chuckled.
"That night , the man stepped outside in frustration… only to see a silhouette dancing in the moonlit fields. With every step she took, every sweep of her arms, every twirl… the rain fell harder and harder."
Pedro looked at Ezra, who was now staring at the soil. Brows tight with concentration, trying to decipher what Pedro was really telling him.
"And that," Pedro said, stretching out across the ground with his hands falling behind his head.
"That became known as the first at of conversion. The kick start of everything we know now."
He smirked.
"You get what I'm throwing down kid?"
Ezra exhales slowly and Pedro slapped the ground twice.
"Good. The. Chop chop, start working on that water conversion."
Hours passed.
Ezra hummed. Growled. Took a deep breath.
Then another.
And another.
He sat legs crossed with his eyes shut, trying to create something he didn't understand.
That's stupid old man… how is he sleeping under this scorching hot sun? He's gonna get burnt to a crisp.
He cracked an eye open. Pedro lying flat on his back, snorting lightly, skin glowing redder and redder by the minute.
Ezra snorted under his breath.
"Oi, old man. Wake up before you're cooked alive."
Pedro jolted upright, sunglasses flashing the suns glare. He glanced at his tomato red arms and immediately jumped to his feet. With a graceful swoop of his hand towards the sky, a sphere of water materialised above him and dumped itself over his head.
"Ahhh…. That's better."
He flopped back down like nothing happened.
"So how's the progress, kiddo?"
Ezra clenched his jaw.
"I can't do this. I don't know how water flows. I don't have anything to mirror. You're asking me to solve an equation without giving me any numbers."
Pedro slowly stood, stretching his arms over his head, and gazed toward the villagers. Even after hours they were still waiting, quiet, patient, hopeful. He raised an eyebrow, then looked at Ezra's flushed cheeks. Not sunburn—
Embarrassment.
"Yeah… probably a pointless task," Pedro said, flashing his clsssic shit-eating grin.
He flicked his wrist — a massive bubble of water appeared above the field. Perfect, shimmering with light and drifted over the crops.
"Job done." He said simply, already turning toward the village.
Ezra stared as the bubble dissolved into millions of droplets, each sinking gently into the soil. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Then he trudged after Pedro.
By the time crops were watered and villagers finished cheering, the sun had dipped low and the heat finally loosened its grip on the desert air.
Ezra and Pedro left before any celebration could start.
PART 2– Complete Conversion.
A few months passed.
The pair eventually found themselves in a dimly lit library with no one else around. Pedro sat slumped at a wooden table— forehead pressed against the surface, a bottle dangling from his hand. Ezra sat opposite him, reading out loud from a thick book.
"How long am I supposed to read this to you…? How did you even become such a great sorcrer without being able to read in the first place?"
Pedro took another sloppy chug.
"I wasn't always blind, dumbass." He slurred.
"And normally I've got a pretty lady reading to me…"
Ezra snapped the book shut, exasperated.
The library smelled ancient, dusty, and leather. Shelves leaned tired like giants on the brink of collapsing. A single lantern flickered on the front desk, barely keeping the shadows at bay.
"Heyyyy…. Don't quit already." Pedro mumbled, lifting a finger.
"Who knows? You might find the answer to complete conversion."
Ezra looked up.
"Complete conversion?"
For the first time that night Pedro lifted his head. He set the bottle down and spread him arms dramatically, like a drunken preacher.
"Complete conversion," he declared completely ignoring the 'PLEASE BE QUIET' signs plastered everywhere.
"Complete conversion is the process of converting ash into cos."
Ezra felt something spark deep inside him. A flicker of hope. A new direction.
Lyla….
Pedro suddenly stumbled to his feet and started wandering between the shelves. They never talked about that night. The night before Pedro found Ezra curled up like a ball in the snow.
"All of sorcery is written through these books!" Pedro shouted, voice echoing throughout the empty room.
"That's the problem with sorcers and divine brats these days. All action, no knowledge."
He pointed at the shelves like they were holy texts.
"Don't get wrong though, everyone experience with sorcery is different. Just like everyone manifests different divines. Souls are the same! The math for my conversions won't be the same math for yours. Your path won't be the same as mine."
His voice drifted farther as he wandered deeper into the stacks.
Ezra barely heard any of it.
He wasn't listen anymore.
He was stuck in the moment.
Stuck in the idea Pedro handed to him.
Complete conversion.
A way forward.
A way to chase a miracle.
For the rest of the night, nothing else managed to reach him.
PART 3– The First Divine
It had been almost two years since Ezra began travelling with Pedro. Now he was only a year away from officially becoming a man at seventeen.
They sat beside an open fire beneath a sky thick with stars. Pedro on his back with his arms folded behind his head, while Ezra sat forward with his arms resting on his knees.
"I still can't believe you had me chasing that ashkin all day. And as a birthday present…"
Pedro chuckled.
" It was only neg-1. It was supposed to be an easy day out."
Ezra sighed.
"I'm stronger than that now… you know that. It's been practically been two years."
He laid back beside Pedro, mirroring him.
"Why do you do this. Float. Wander. Wander some more. Don't you get tired of going no where?"
Pedro didn't answer right away. He kept staring upward, spinning his sunglasses on his finger. Then he made that face, the one he always pulled before launching into story.
"Do you know the story of the First divine?" Pedro asked.
Ezra blinked— wasn't what he asked.
"I guess…" he muttered.
" The First divine woke up alone. No nations. No dynasties. Just an empty world." Pedro continued to tell.
Ezra listened, unsure where this was going.
"An angel appeared and offered him a purpose: to walk the entire world. Every plane. Every inch. And in return she would bless the world with life."
Ezra sat up, intrigued despite himself.
"… and he accepted?"
"She didn't let him. Not at first."
Pedro tilted his head and slipped his sunglasses back on.
"She gave him her eyes, let him see everything humanity would become. Every future. Every cruelty. Every choice. All of the ash flooded him. Yet he still chose to walk."
"This isn't the version they taught in the academy."
"Is it not?" Pedro smirked.
The grin half smug, half playful. It stretched wider and wider as he traced his fingers across the drifting stars.
"Ezra do you believe divinity comes with divine purpose?"
Ezra thought about it.
" I don't know yet… I can't say."
Pedro finally sat up, focused on him.
"Good. Then let me tell you what I believe."
The air stilled around them, as if it too was waiting for an answer.
" I believe the First divine walked simply because he had the opportunity to do so."
Ezra frowned.
"That's it?" He asked, expecting something more grand.
Pedro noticed his confusion.
"No destiny. No prophecy. Just opportunity, because he could."
"…. So you travel because you can."
Pedro nodded.
"I travel because movement is the only proof I'm still free. Still alive. Stil choosing my own path."
Ezra fell quiet, Pedro reached touching the boys chest lightly with two fingers.
"Divinity doesn't grant purpose, Ezra opportunity does. The rest of up to you."
The wind shifted around— gentle, yet thoughtful.
Pedro had never rushed Ezra in any direction their two years together. Never fed him beliefs. Never told him how to live. He offered knowledge, context, perspectives as ways to understand the world… then left Ezra to form his own path from it. Dispelling ignorance without robbing him from his youth.
"Is there anything you wish to achieve? a goal? An opportunity to seize?" Pedro asked softly.
Ezra took his time. The words forming in his mouth had never been spoken out loud before.
"I want to save Lyla. I want to learn complete conversion. I want to destroy the curse that eats away at this world."
Pedro rose to his feet slowly, smiling down on him.
"You've grown huh… looks like you and I are on different paths now."
Oh
I get it.
You're pushing me away.
Or rather…
Pushing me forward .
Pedro would have happily kept travelling with Ezra— he enjoyed the boys company. But from the moment they met, he'd known there was fire in Ezra's heart, for something Pedro couldn't give him or teach him.
So the only thing they could do was….
Part ways.