Desperation took over jayhon.
He threw his hands forward, pouring every ounce of his fear into his veins.
Make it sharp!
Make it hurt!
He visualized a razor-sharp spear of ice, a deadly torrent that would pierce the guard's throat.
Pfft.
A messy, unfocused splash of lukewarm water shot from Jayhon's palms, hitting the guard square in the face
. It had the velocity of a heavy rain puddle.
The guard stood there, his face dripping with street water, a single piece of green parsley from Jayhon's unrefined Zheki stuck to his nose.
Silence settled over the alley.
Then, the guard began to shake. His massive chest heaved, and he let out a loud, booming roar of laughter that echoed off the brick walls.
"Bwahaha! What... what was that?!"
The guard wiped his face, tears of mirth leaking from his eyes.
"An orange matchstick and a face-wash?! You kids are the 'dangerous terrorists' the High Commander is losing his mind over?
The palace guards are soft! They probably tripped over their own capes and blamed it on you two!"
Hanjun stood up, wiping his hands on his trousers.
"My calculations were incorrect. The zheki did not light, and the orange light is less efficient than the green one."
The guard shook his head, his laughter dying down into a pitying sigh as he looked at their visible ribs and hollow cheeks.
He reached into a large leather pouch at his hip, pulled out a thick loaf of black bread and a massive chunk of dried salt-meat, and threw it aggressively at Hanjun's chest.
Hanjun caught it reflexively. "What is this?"
"It's Food, you idiot what are your eyes for huh?,"
the guard grunted, sitting down heavily on a wooden crate.
"Eat it before you faint on my boots. I don't feel like carrying two dead weights through the market."
Jayhon stared, completely bewildered.
"You're... you're not going to kill us?"
"For what? Stealing a loaf of bread? The King wastes more gold on his hair oil in a single morning than this entire district spends on grain in a year," the guard scoffed, waving his hand. "I'm Barn. I've been patrolling these gutter streets for fifteen years. I know real killers, and you two aren't it. You're just hungry."
Hanjun didn't hesitate.
He tore a massive chunk of the bread off, shoved it into his mouth, and began chewing like a machine.
"This bread tastes good if only Beixin Was here to taste this,"
he mumbled through a full mouth. He handed the rest to Jayhon. "Eat, water-spitter. The fat Pig is offering food instead of devouring it himself."
Jayhon took the bread with shaking hands, tearing into it, tears finally spilling down his cheeks from the sheer relief of not being impaled.
Guard Barn watched them eat for a moment, his eyes lingering on Hanjun's hand.
"Hey, silver-hair," Barn said, pointing his spear butt at Hanjun's chest.
"When you tried to hit me, you were squeezing your heart, right?"
Hanjun stopped chewing. "The red-haired elf girl said the Zheki is locked in the heart."
"She's an elf, she thinks everything is a poetry lesson,"
Barn grunted, standing up and demonstrating.
He drew a deep breath, and a faint, dull gray glow—Standard Earth-Zheki—hummed around his forearms.
"The heart is the furnace, kid. It builds the heat.
But if you keep the energy locked up in there, you're just going to give yourself a heart attack.
You gotta let it drop into your gut first.
Your center of gravity.
Then you push it through the veins like water through a pipe.
If you try to force it straight from the chest to the hand, it clogs.
That's why your little light went pop."
He turned to Jayhon.
"And you, blue-eyes.
Water isn't about pushing.
Water is about weight.
You're trying to spray it like a fountain. Next time, don't think about shooting it.
Think about making your hand so heavy with the water that when you swing, the weight itself breaks the bone. Understand?"
Jayhon slowly wiped his eyes, nodding entirely dumbfounded.
"Weight... not speed."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
Barn picked up his half-eaten meat pie and his spear, turning his back to them and walking toward the main street.
"Anyway, I never saw you kids. I was never here. I'm going to go report to the captain that I searched this alley and only found a couple of alley cats."
He stopped at the edge of the alley, looking back over his shoulder, a rough but genuine smile pulling at his bearded lips.
"Listen, if you two actually manage to survive this mess, and we happen to run into each other again down the line... I'll bring you to my house.
My wife cooks the most delicious meals in the lower district. You can get a proper filling."
Barn's expression turned slightly puzzled then as he looked at them one last time.
"Seriously though... I wonder why the King would want to capture two cute kids like you. It doesn't make any sense."
Barn stepped out of the alley, his heavy footsteps fading into the bustle of the market.
Hanjun swallowed his final piece of sausage, his large gray eyes staring at his own palm. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and instead of squeezing his chest, he tried to let the cold, cautious feeling drop lower, right into his stomach.
A tiny, solid, orange flame sparkled at the tip of his finger.
It didn't smoke.
It didn't go pop.
It just sat there, burning perfectly in the dark alley.
"The fat pigs instructions are really useful,"
Hanjun noted.
He looked at Jayhon.
"Jayhon. Let us continue walking behind you. Your trajectory selection was highly profitable."
Jayhon looked at his own hands, a tiny, faint spark of hope finally flickering behind his ocean-blue eyes. He tightened his grip.
"Yeah. Let's go."