Strong winds buffeted him as soon he set his foot on the cobblestone pathway. Cold snuck past his defenses, slowly chipping away his precious heat. Arash shivered, shifting in his wools to get what little comfort he could afford.

Normally a boy of thirteen wouldn't dare to walk alone on the streets. The winds took anything lighter than 30 kg. But even at the age of 13, Arash stood 6 feet tall and weighed a whole 80 kg. Winds bothered him little, but the cold made it impossible to stand still.

He wanted to run to the warmth of the house. To sit beside the engraved hearthstone and doze off to sleep. But today the cold bothered him little. He stared up at the dark sky riddled with rivers of burning sapphire light. He heard a slight humming sound at the back of his head.

"Crying of the souls." People of Harra believed that the soul of man ignited the sky. Providing little light to the land of eternal darkness. Arash followed the rivers from one end to another. They shone down on him with deep blue light. The light humming turned to a dull aching pain until he was forced to look down.

He clenched his right hand and acutely felt the coldness of the mana stone. He found refuge inside a narrow alley between the tightly packed houses. Little light ever reached the alleys and winds sounded more like the seething river.

Arash found a strange solace in these alleys. He couldn't see anything and nothing could see him. He loosened his fist, pale blue light slipped out the crevices between his fingers.

He opened his hand and stared at the tiny stone. Inside the darkness it looked like a piece of sky river, burning bright with a deep blue hue. He stared at the stone, his eyes prying for the secrets of the stone. But no matter how hard he tried the stone kept his secret. He let out a long sigh and clenched his fist. Darkness engulfed him like a blanket. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of howling wind.

His breath aligned with his heartbeat. Soon the sound of the wind was replaced by the low hum of his heartbeat. He focused on the sound of his heart. It felt like a fierce river coursing through his body.

He imagined himself floating above a terrible river of blood. In his mind's eye, he stood inside a rumbling sea of blood. The sea roared and seethed around him, but he stood still like a stone. The sea felt real to him. He could feel the blood red water around him, feel its pressure.

He imagined the alley in which he sat. Suddenly the red sea morphed into a dark alley. Imagined himself sitting in the alley. He looked at the walls, the ground, and the sky. Everything was as it should be but at the same time some things were missing. Everything was vague at the edges. Arash tried to add details to the alley, but no matter how hard he tried something was always missing.

"What am I doing?" He shook his head in dismay. He willed himself into a black sea of darkness, endless and formless. He envisioned the light rune. Drew it stroke by stroke. But like the walls, it felt vague and incomplete. When he fixed one part, another would become crooked. He tried again and again. Each try met with a new failure. Frustration rose in his heart and his concentration waned. It became harder and harder for him to draw the rune. He slammed his fists on the ground, breaking out of his mental state.

"What am I doing wrong? What is it? Ahhh!" he gritted his teeth and stared into dark nothingness. He took out his engraved wooden stick and traced his index finger across the rune. He imagined the rune shining with sapphire blue light. "Why don't you shine like this? Why is it so hard? Why..." Suddenly it hit him. Just now when he imagined the rune. He imagined it as a single entity. "I have been doing it all wrong..."

Arash once again slipped back into the trance. This time rather than drawing the rune stroke by stroke. He drew all the strokes at the same time. Slowly, the whole rune started taking form. Each stroke sprouting from a single entity, living and breathing in his imagination. But, Arash found himself mentally strained. Nonetheless, he felt himself brimming with a strange new excitement.

He forced himself to concentrate on the whole rune, watching it grow slowly towards completion. Suddenly his head throbbed with a sharp pain. "Ahh!" He screamed in agony, grabbing his head in his palms. The pain disappeared as soon as it came.

"So close! Dammit..." He cursed out loud, but his lips curled into a smile. Before the rune was always elusive to him. But now he could see it in its true form. He felt himself getting closer and closer.

"Only a little bit and the rune would have been complete. Ah!" He remembered the true form of the rune, but the one that he drew in his mind's eye was intrinsically different from the one he etched into the wooden rod.

He closed his eyes, felt the flow of his blood, and slipped into a trance, but as soon as he tried to envision the rune, the pain came running back.

"Dammit!" He winced in pain, got back in position, but the ringing pain in his head convinced him otherwise. He sat in the silence of his sanctuary, listening to the howls of the wind.

After resting for a while, he slipped out of the alley, and went through the jungle of concrete and mortar until he stood before a short squat building which he called home. Arash knocked and placed his ear against the door.

Just as he was about to start pounding the door, he heard the sound of feet shuffling behind the door. After a few moments, the door finally opened, revealing a small boy. He had been wrapped up in so many layers of wool and leather that he looked more like furball than a human child.

"Where is she?" Arash tried to hide his hatred for his mother. But it still manifested in his tone. He hated the woman who gave birth to him. Arash closed the door behind him and hung his cloak by the wall. Looking back at his little brother, he couldn't help but notice that his brother was wearing his fur coat. "Why are you wearing my coat?" Arash couldn't help but smile.

"I have grown big. My clothes don't fit me anymore." Firuz tried to stand tall. But even with his height of 4 foot at 10, he appeared to be a midget in front of his brother.

"Have you? Then why is there a knife tied to your waist?"

Firuz stared at his feet, while his face burned red with embarrassment. "But you won't believe me." He protested.

"Tell me whats wrong?"

Firuz looked up with a troubled expression "I... I saw a man, crying for help. He was injured. Something had happened to him. "

"And what do you plan to do?" Arash said with a bemused smile, staring at his scrawny brother, bundled in layers and layers of leather and fur.

"…I am going to save him."

"Firuz!" Arash glared at his brother. "You should be able to differentiate between dream and reality. There is no man outside and you are staying here inside."

"I am not lying. I saw him beyond the mana deposits. He was crying for help. He is still there"

"Firuz its just dreams." Arash felt exasperated.

"No, they are not! I have seen it. It's real. Beyond the mana stones to the left. He was crying. There was blood all over the place." Firuz defiantly stood before him, tears threatening to burst out. "You never believe me. You never do! I never lie to you. But... he is dying. We have to help him."

"We are doing no such things." Arash felt anger boil over him.

"Yes, I am. I don't need you! I am not going to let him die." Firuz tried to open the lock. Arash pulled him backwards, and thrust him towards the bed.

"You will go and stay there." Arash glared at his little brother. His voice tinged with anger.

"No..." Firuz tried to resist. But hit was futile under the cold stare. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he ran back to his room. "I hate you! I hate you!"