Excerpt: Talents: Sanctuary

The fiery object streaking across the night sky left little evidence it was ever there. Too dark for the thin wisps of trailing smoke to be seen. The bits of ash flaking away too minute, too fragile to ever find its way to ground where anyone would come across and arouse any curiosity. If anyone would admit later bearing witness, the only admission would be their thinking it was just another tiny meteor arcing across the clouded, starless sky. If anyone were witness, none would ever be certain that the small object looked anything like a man on fire.
The arc of its flight measured in miles, well past any point where gravity should have made itself felt. Finally, the smoldering shape wobbled erratic and began a swift curving descent toward the earth. It wasn’t flying particularly high in the air, especially over the rocky terrain of the mountain range below.
If the fiery object was indeed a man on fire, slamming into the side of a high ridge on a particularly sharp-edged mountain at the speed it had been flying and falling wouldn’t have done the person any favors. The collision created an explosion of sorts, the embers flaring outward along with a half ton of rock in every direction. And from that explosion… the fiery man bounced from the crater.
The impact did little to slow the body’s momentum, and the bounce lifted the fiery object back into the sky. Slower now, more wobbly, not as arcing across the clouded starless ceiling. He flew over the rest of the mountain range, passing over well-lit towns and darkened rivers. As he dipped lower in the sky, caught again by gravity’s pull, another range of mountains dimly rose on the horizon.
The second collision was not as spectacular as the first. More dirt than fire exploded outward, and this time the body did not bounce that well. Another crevice of rock received a crater, a slower bounce, another slam against a mountain side. This time little debris splattered, no crater forged and no bounce made. The fiery object rolled this time, still with incredible momentum, along the edge of the mountain and over a cliff.
The cliff overlooked a modest waterfall, a thin sliver of water dark as blood cutting across smoothed over rock. The body splashed into water, but even then the fires upon it did not go out, not completely. As the current of the stream floated the body downward, the bubbling and boiling from underneath it rose to the surface as the parts of skin and clothing not soaked by the cold water remained burning.
The river flowed a ways to another waterfall, this one 20 feet high feeding into a tiny grotto pond, and the body rolled and splashed again. This time facing downward. As he floated, now smoldering instead of enflamed, it took a few seconds before the body twisted of its own accord. The person gasped for air, coughed and roared, and slid feet-first into the pond. A few seconds later, he rose, flailing arms forcing his head above the water gasping for more air. Half-swimming, half-kicking, the man on fire bobbled up and down, his head submerging and rising over and over, sputtering and gurgling as he tried moving toward anything resembling solid earth. He struggled more to keep his head above water than reaching a safe spot, and the grotto’s waters gently but surely dragged him in a direction that fed into another thin river flowing down the mountainside.
Once in the shallow river, he stopped struggling once his legs felt the muddy surface below him. The waters splashing over his body as the currents drove him forward finally smothered most of the fires that had been clinging to his skin and face. His breathing leveled out now he didn’t need to fight for air, and with gasps of relief he let the river carry him to one more waterfall.
The drop this time was higher than 200 feet. The man screamed, a tired and weak yell that only lasted a few seconds as he fell through the heavy curtain of water into the dark cold lake below.
There was little splashing when the body resurfaced. The man had enough awareness left in his head to not kick and twist, to level his body out in the water to let natural buoyancy keep him afloat. His gasps faded into deep wheezing, and then into calm puffing. The currents working within the lake, pushing away from the waterfall, gently dragged his limp form across the waters.
The deep part of the lake was large and calm, the lack of light giving it an unearthly smooth appearance. The roar of the waterfall feeding into it sounded distant as he floated further away. Finally the body bumped into something. Solid, slippery but solid.
The man twisted, grabbing, using whatever energy he had left. His fingers cut against the edge of rock, a ledge of stone rising from the water. It was large enough for him to scrabble against it, dragging himself out of the lake into the cold evening air.
He breathed, gasped, shivered. The flames that ate away at him were finally extinguished, leaving behind an exposed, scarred body. His legs kicked involuntarily, more out of instinct to push himself higher onto the stone shelf. The kicking eventually weakened to shivering, this time his whole body. After a few minutes, even the shivering stopped. The only remaining sign that the man was still alive was the thin wisp of air misting from his open, twisted mouth…