Rothe's Arc

Chapter 3 of 11

The stranger set his pencil down and studied Rothe's form. He opened his journal to a blank page and drew a simple shape — a circle. Then he pointed at the candle. Rothe understood. He pulled the flame toward the circle on the page, trying to hold it steady above the paper. The stranger had set up his workspace in an abandoned potter's shack at the forest edge. Clay pots lined the walls, half-finished and cracked. A large iron brazier sat in the center of the dirt floor, filled with coals that never seemed to cool. Rothe practiced there each morning while Miri helped her father with his research. The stranger kept a board mounted on the wall, covered in diagrams that tracked each attempt. Red marks for failures. Blue marks for progress. Gold marks for moments when Rothe held his form solid enough to cast a shadow. Today the stranger pointed at the brazier and held up three fingers. Rothe pulled heat from the coals and shaped it into three separate flames. He held them suspended in a triangle formation. The effort felt like lifting stone with nothing but intention. His wisps scattered twice before he steadied them. The stranger sketched quickly, adding notes in the margins. Then he pointed at a clay pot on the floor and tapped it twice. Rothe sent one flame down to circle the pot's rim. The heat left a visible mark in the clay — a thin black line that proved he'd touched something real. The stranger added a gold mark to the board. Rothe pulled all three flames back into himself and felt the weight of them settle in his core. He was getting heavier. More present. When he moved now, the air shifted around him instead of passing through. The stranger closed his journal and pointed at the brazier again. This time he held up five fingers. Rothe gathered the heat and began to work.