The scent of scorched air clung to the back of his throat when he walked outside Gus's shop. Every instinct told Joren to duck behind a cart, wait it out, let someone stronger handle it. But then he saw the panic in the crowd, the mess he was making and the people he would hurt. No one else was stepping forward, so he did. At the center of the square stood the man responsible, he had the most absurd walk like he had springs for legs. A wild mohawk stood rigid upon his head, his leather jacket and combat boots looked out of place on this man maybe two or three years older than Joren.
Joren stepped forward cautiously, raising a hand. "I'm no hero, but I can't let you hurt people. Please, just calm down, man." The man's grin faltered for a heartbeat, eyes narrowing as he sized Joren up. "And who's going to stop me? You?" His voice was a jagged flash of amusement and challenge. Thunderclap's laughter broke the tension like lightning. "You want to try and stop me? Come on, then."
Late Afternoon – Outside Gus's Shop
The blue-white sparks snapped back to life, arching from Thunderclap's fingertips with a crackling roar. The air thickened with electric tension, hairs standing on end as a low hum vibrated in the air. Thunderclap lunged forward, leather creaking with his movement, and jagged bolts lashed out in wild arcs. Joren barely dodged, feeling the heat brush past his cheek. The crowd's frantic murmurs faded into a dull roar behind him, he was getting into a battle, something he was clearly unaccustomed to. Joren had faced his fair share of nasty travelers at the saloon who just wanted to fight someone, but this was different. Thunderclap was aiming to do some serious damage, and now Joren had to show what his training has done for him so far.
Joren's breath hitched as the next bolt screamed past, cracking against a nearby wall and sending shards of plaster raining down. He didn't realize it was just a distraction as Thunderclap moved in fast, kicking him hard in the stomach with his shin. Joren doubled over from the sudden blow, the air whooshing from his lungs. Thunderclap's wild grin widened as he stepped closer, sparks still crackling from his hands. The crowd's gasps rippled through the square, but Joren forced himself to straighten, wiping sweat from his brow.
Joren's eyes narrowed, feeling the familiar pull of gravity shift beneath his palm. With a quick step forward, he let the weight decrease from his fist, making it a faster punch he couldn't dodge. In one fluid motion, he drove his fist upward, the lesser gravitational force amplifying the speed as it connected with Thunderclap's jaw. The man staggered back, surprise flickering across his wild eyes. Thunderclap's eyes gleamed with manic energy, a grin stretching wide across his face like a storm about to break. "You think you can stop me, boy? I'm the spark of Glazebend, the next big Auspex." His palms crackled violently, tendrils of blue-white lightning whipping out like furious serpents. He used his power internally this time, sending electrical signals to his arms and legs. Thunderclap's movements blurred, he was getting faster than before. All Joren could do at the moment was block, but he had a plan brewing that might just slow him down.
Joren braced himself, arms raised as lightning-fueled strikes came crashing down like a furious storm. The sharp crackle of electricity filled the air, each blow sending vibrations through the cobblestones beneath his feet. But Joren's focus sharpened, he started to control rocks and small objects around the area, one by one. He launched a rock with the movement of his hand, drawing Thunderclap's attention for a moment. Joren sent another one from the opposite direction, sending his knee into his stomach this time.
Thunderclap grunted, staggering back but recovering quickly, his eyes narrowing with renewed fury and glee. Sparks danced across his knuckles as he clenched his fists tighter, the air buzzing with charged anticipation. Joren had the element of surprise, but an Eclipse-ranked Auspex is no joke. The raw power radiating from the man was overwhelming, and every moment he lingered risked turning the crowd's fear into actual harm. Joren knew he need to end this quickly. As Thunderclap rushed at him for another barrage of lightning-enhanced punches, Joren manipulated gravity on Thunderclap's right leg, making him trip from the sudden disorientation of a very heavy leg.
This opening gave Joren the opportunity he needed to end this. He planted his feet, inhaled sharply, and extended his hand in front of him. In his palm, light gathered. It was a deep red yet faint color at first, like the spark of a match. It then began swelling rapidly into a dense, radiant orb no larger than a golf ball. It shimmered with white and blue hues, a miniature star suspended in the evening air. It then began to turn a deep goldish-red hue, symbolizing the cycle all stars eventually follow. It became an unbelievably bright, white star and exploded an iridescent kaleidoscope of colors. This miniature star underwent this life cycle in only mere seconds, but it was at point-blank range of Thunderclap. The explosion was so bright that it was akin to a flashbang, blinding him as he was already locked into place.
Joren wound up a right-hook, forming a narrow, pressurized tunnel of force between himself and his enemy, an invisible corridor pulling inward with immense, focused weight. It was a gravity tunnel. Thunderclap's face was the epicenter, drawing Joren's fist to it as if it were falling like a meteor. His punch was like a railgun, generating a ton of heat in its wake. The impact cracked like thunder as it collided with Thunderclap's jaw, sending him flying. He was out cold before he ever hit the street.
Early Evening – The Street After the Fight
The crowd held its breath for a moment. Then, as if a dam had broken, cheers erupted through the square. Murmurs of disbelief and excitement mixed with relief filled the crowd. Some clapped, others exchanged glances filled with newfound hope that they wouldn't have to worry about this hooligan anymore. The town guards were already out picking Thunderclap up to pay for his crimes the last few days.
Gus stepped out from his shop, wiping his hands on his apron, eyes wide but shining with gratitude. "Kid, that was something else. You've got guts." He gave a low whistle. "Could've been a lot worse if you hadn't stepped in." Joren wiped sweat from his brow, muscles still tense. "Yeah… if he had a level head during that fight, he definitely would have won. His powers were far stronger than mine are at the moment." Gus nodded, the grin still painted on his face. "That Thunderclap's no joke. Eclipse rank, if the rumors are right. You stood your ground against someone like that by using your smarts, so don't sell yourself short."
The crowd that had gathered began to murmur and clap, their fear now shifting into admiration. A few brave voices cheered, voices from merchants, townsfolk, and even some of the street performers. Joren felt the warmth of their approval, but a knot of unease settled in his stomach. Gus could see that he was unsure of how to go about his travels now that he gained the attention of others. "You're not gonna last long out here alone. You have a good head on your shoulders, sure, but sometimes you just need another person to make the trip a journey." Joren looked up at Gus. "I can't ask you to do that! Don't you run this shop and provide to the city?" Gus gave a low chuckle, the kind that rumbled deep in his chest. "I do, but I think I could convince my one of my sisters to take over for a while. Besides, I have always wanted to go on tour and sell more of my work to places around the lands." Joren had sort of forgotten that Gus was a minor celebrity to enjoyers of fine porcelain craftwork.
Gus's grin widened, showing a rare glimpse of excitement that seemed almost out of place in his usually gruff demeanor. "Yeah, I'm known 'round these parts, but I want the whole world to know my name. Maybe I can find more materials to make my work even stronger than it is now somewhere out there." Joren's eyes flickered with surprise, then a small smile broke through his uncertainty. "So… you're serious about this?" Gus nodded firmly. "Dead serious. You've got the fire, kid. I've got the muscle and, well, I have been told I make some of the best food around." Joren felt the weight on his shoulders ease, maybe this journey wouldn't be so lonely after all.