The last time a primal spring bubbled out of the creational muck spurred a war that lasted centuries. A fifth of the world piece was scarred in a wave of fire and salt, a tide of death that did not pull back to the ocean of normalcy until it was made clear that the spring was now in a state none of the great powers could even hope to make use of. The life and Issi bringing waters were tainted with blood and rot, left forgotten for untold years as the powers raised a mountain range to divide the blasted lands between their territories.

Centuries passed, and Pyreheld is raised in and on the largest mountain in the range. The people are a hardy sort, farmers who could raise a crop from a bed of stones, hunters who fought the most dangerous Issi beasts for control over the ash forests that paradoxically grew in the blasted landscape around the mountain range, doctors who fought tooth and claw to bring their patients back from the brink of death, and even further beyond the veil they called life. Now a semi-thriving city with its own unique culture, Issi foods, and materials not found anywhere else on the world piece, Pyreheld is a prime candidate for a tyrant invasion.

But it never comes. Pyreheld continued to grow, both in size and in culture, until the impact the city had on the Issi around it started to stir. At first, it was unnoticeable, a pair of glowing eyes staring down alleyways, a fleeting chuckle from the corner of an inn where nobody sat, a fight broken up by a sweltering wind before either party could throw a single punch. Over time, however, it grew to a fevered pitch. Issi bubbled up from every person, every weapon forged from local ores and every meal of Issi beast meat prepared over a fire of burning ash wood. The eyes became a face, then a specter, then a person. The chuckle became a laugh, a roar, then finally a voice. The fights stopped before insults, before drinks, then out of respect.

Pyreheld was born. A manifestation of the city itself, of the thoughts and ideals the city represented and held in truth. Issi blossomed, and the people clambered to get a piece of the new utopia that came along with Pyreheld. But it wasn’t enough. The people could only do so much for Pyreheld, and Pyreheld could only do so much for them. Because the lone primal spring on the world piece was located in Freshetfall, another living city that was a life-risking trek for the craftspeople of Pyreheld. A trek that few returned from.

Pyreheld went to work with a singular goal; bring that which drew people to Freshetfall instead to them. A primal spring still lay somewhere near their city, under all the ash and cinders that had become their world, and Pyreheld would bring it back to life. They searched for decades, poring over every inch of ground from the mountains to the edge of the ash groves that grew in the boiling lakes that were the edge of the blasted landscape. Though it was a terribly long and strenuous ordeal, they eventually found what they were looking for.

Elach cradled his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth in his bed as his father paused for effect. He’d heard the story a hundred times over, but he never got tired of the way dad told it. His younger brother nodded off in dad’s lap, his head of brown hair dipping until it was almost perpendicular to his chest before jolting back up and starting to fall down once more.

“The primal spring was but a tiny bud under the ashes; a splash of blue in a sea of ash grey, obsidian black, burning oranges, vibrant yellows, and blood reds. It stood out like a coyote among dogs; near impossible to find until it most certainly wasn’t. Pyreheld brushed aside the ash on the ground and knelt before the tiny bud, placing a single finger on it and feeding it the purest Issi they could manage. But Pyreheld is a manifestation of the hardiest people on the world piece; a being of fire, passion, and resilience. They could not filter out their own qualities fully, and the primal bud drank deep of Pyreheld, weakening them until they could not stand if they had wished it, though it took not only their Issi.”

Jven leaned forward, placing one strong arm over Elach’s brother’s chest to keep him from falling over. “As the spring grew, it became a twisted mirror of Pyreheld’s Issi. The wisps attracted to the overflowing power were not the multifaceted variety of Freshetfall’s primal spring, where wisps of all Issi types could be found; no, the wisps attracted to Pyreheld’s newfound spring were those that feasted on only three types of Issi.”

Raising his palm to the sky, Jven made his fingers dance in a crude approximation of flames. “The first to come were the pyretic wisps, fingers of flame and specters of ash, finding refuge in the boiling ponds and ashen trees as they gorged themselves on their newfound bounty. Then came the resilience wisps,” Jven made a fist and placed it over his heart, “solid and hardy, they claimed the blasted soils for their own. And finally, long after the pyretic wisps had staked their claim, the creation wisps nervously took their place. These abstract, simple wisps took to the Issi beasts that roamed the primal spring, sticking to them like parasites and creating what the people of Pyreheld thought were a multitude of new species.”

“Within the decade, what had been a stretch of dead land now blossomed with brand new life and a cadre of wisps the people of Pyreheld felt personal connections to. Though they knew the risks bonding carried, not a single resident of Pyreheld refused their turn to venture into the heart of the primal spring for a chance to bond a wisp of their own. The path of the practitioner called them, just as it does all of their descendants to this day.”

“Jven.”

Elach’s father turned his head to the doorway where Elach’s mother was standing, a bandana tied around her forehead to keep her fiery hair out of her face.

“Yes, dear?”

“We need to start getting ready for tomorrow’s customers. It’s already almost ten.”

Jven raised his eyebrows and shot a glance at the clock. “So it is. Sorry, Elach, looks like storytime’s getting cut short.” He gingerly stood, cradling Elach’s younger brother in his arms who blinked groggily while looking between Elach and his father. “We’ll pick it back up tomorrow, alright buddy?”

“Ok, daddy.” Elach said with a yawn, letting his legs fall out from under him as he slipped down further under the covers.

“Goodnight, buddy.” Jven said, leaning over to plant a kiss on Elach’s forehead. His mother came up and did the same, looking down at him with her bright red eyes.

“There’s always time, Elach. You still have almost ten years until you can bond a wisp for yourself.” Preht lightly caressed his cheek with her hand. “But you’ll always be my little boy.”

Elach smiled, turning onto his side as he watched Preht join Jven just outside his room. “Goodnight mommy. Goodnight daddy.”

“Goodnight, buddy. We love you.” Jven said with a smile, pressing his fingertip into the Issi inscription on the wall and sliding the middle part of it off to the side.

“Have a good sleep, honey.” Preht said as she slowly closed the door, careful not to make any loud noises. “We love you so much.”

Elach closed his eyes, his father’s story vivid in his imagination as his mother’s words echoed in his mind. Only nine more years until he could bond a wisp of his own. But that was so far off, that Elach’s thoughts quickly shifted to what kind of games he would play with his friends during lunch break tomorrow at school. All he had was time.

-----------------------

Elach stood at the gates to the wisp garden, brimming with excitement as he looked around at the other kids who stood around him. Their local primal spring wasn’t quite as well known as Pyreheld’s or Freshetfall’s, but that didn’t stop people from coming for the festival with their own teenagers who hoped to bond a wisp. In fact, he only recognized one other person in the little crowd that had gathered.

“It doesn’t feel real, does it?” Kayvee asked, his gaze locked onto the person that was supposed to guide them through the wisp garden and into the primal spring, where the wisps were calm and looking to bond. “It feels like yesterday that we were learning about this in school; the right way to offer to bond a wisp, how to fight off an Issi beast that wants to eat you, what to do if your wisp doesn’t want to bond you…”

“Well, that’s because it was last week.” Elach said, nudging Kayvee with his elbow. “And I’m pretty sure mom taught us more about bonding wisps than old Mr. Gresknoll ever did.”

“Yeah, she did teach us a lot.” Kayvee nodded. “So did you ever make up your mind on what kind of wisp you’re going to bond?”

“Narrowed it down to three.”

Kayvee blinked, then crossed his arms. “Ok, I’ll bite. What three did you choose?”

“Well, it’s more like four, but we both know I’ll never find the fourth.”

“Because you can only find it at Pyreheld, right? No, don’t tell me, I want to guess.” Kayvee held up a hand to stop Elach, and put the other on his chin thoughtfully. “Knowing you, it’d be a pyretic one. And since it isn’t one of the ones we could find here… is it a burning obsidian?”

“You know it. Those things are so cool.” Elach smiled, thinking of the shimmering jet-black flames of the species of wisp they’d nicknamed a burning obsidian. It had another proper name, but Elach hadn’t bothered committing it to memory.

“Yeah, they’re cool, but they’re nothing compared to a charcoal shell.” Kayvee said. “Those bright orange scars, and the weird-shaped ball of Issi inside of it? You know you’d bond with one of them if you got the chance.”

“Ok, yeah, I would. But most of Pyreheld’s wisps are super cool. Mom’s so lucky she grew up there.”

“Yeah, she is. So what are the other three?”

“You should know the first one; I don’t think that it’s changed for like five years; The candy heart. And you know why.”

“Thought you’d hate that thing, what with how many of them you've made for your family’s shop at this point. Can you even look at the little candies in your window without feeling a little sick?”

“Yes, I can, because they’re delicious. And the only cinnamon candy we sell. And I love cinnamon.” Elach said defensively. “But that’s only the first one. The other two are the puzzle box and the tattered arrowhead.”

“Yeah, those are pretty awesome.” Kayvee agreed.

“So what are you looking for?”

“Honestly, I just want a bond.” Kayvee sighed. “No matter how many I looked at, I could find something cool in almost all of them. So maybe instead of what I like, I should think about what I wouldn’t bond with?”

“Should I add all the basic wisps to that list?” Elach asked.

“Of course, you should. Nobody wants to bond with a leaf. Or a pebble.” Kayvee snorted. “But you know the ones I don’t want.”

“Sparkwillows and candy hearts.” Elach said with a nod. “Because they creep you out.”

“I don’t know how they don’t creep you out. Freaky-looking things. Like intestines on fire and beating hearts spurring blood Issi.” Kayvee shuddered. “Pretty much anything else that isn’t a basic wisp is cool with me.”

“Alright, people, time to get going.”

Elach turned towards the croaking voice that belonged to one of the people he knew from school, a girl half a year older than him that loved the colour green and baby animals. But this time her outfit was mostly red with a splash of green. Unusual for Esdie. She stood on a raised platform so that everyone in the small group of fifteen could see her, and she scanned the group as if looking for something. Her eyes were unfocused, and she passed over them multiple times before noticing they were there.

“Elach, Kayvee, Mr. Gresknoll wanted to tell you two something. He’s waiting in the schoolhouse.” Esdie let out a wet cough, her hand coming away red. “He said it was urgent.”

Elach and Kayvee shared a look and a shrug, turning away from the gate and walking over to the schoolhouse a block over. They chatted about what old Gresknoll wanted from them for a minute, but their conversation quickly turned to the excitement of the day. What was another half an hour when the rest of their lives were just around the corner?

“Ah, boys. Come in, come in.” Gresknoll, a hunched, wobbling relic of a man whose long green-brown beard accounted for at least half of his body weight, said in an ancient, dusty voice that perfectly captured the man’s loose hold on life. Elach would have expected him to keel over any second now, but his mom told him Gresknoll had been this frail ever since they’d moved here seventeen years ago.

“Esdie said you were looking for us?” Elach asked, not moving to follow Gresknoll’s invitation.

“She said it was important.” Kayvee added. “And we want to go get our bonds as soon as possible if you don’t need us.”

“Well, that’s just it.” Gresknoll said. “One of your classmates died today, though I’m not quite sure which, and when we add them to the three we’ve already lost this solstice we don’t have many guides left.”

“There’s Esdie.” Elach pointed out. “She just took what was supposed to be our group in.”

“And after her, there is no one left.” Gresknoll sighed, tapping his cane on the boards as he slowly lowered himself into a wicker chair under the schoolhouse’s overhang. “Everyone else has already bonded a wisp, which leaves you two as our last options. I’m sorry, boys, but you won’t be bonding wisps this solstice.”

Elach looked at Kayvee, who in turn looked at the ground. He put on a forced smile, pushing the disappointment down as he remembered his duties to the town.

“It’s fine, Mr. Gresknoll. Kayvee and I’ll be your guides.” Elach slapped his friend on the back, who grunted in surprise and lifted his eyes to Gresknoll.

“Yeah, we’ll do it.” Kayvee sighed. “Not like we’d get our wisps without a guide.”

“Good, good. One of you will need to be ready to take the next group in half an hour. Esdie was attacked during her last outing, and the injuries were quite severe, so I fear this outing will be her last. If you find her corpse, make sure it doesn’t disturb the wisps, please.”

“I’ve got first shift.” Kayvee volunteered, gripping Elach into a hug and smacking him on the back. “Just means that next solstice, we’ll get the pick of the litter, yeah?”

“That it does.” Elach said, slapping Kayvee on the back and releasing him from the hug. “Besides, it’s just half a year. We’ve got the rest of our lives to be practitioners, what’s six more months?”