Bound and Broken: An Isekai Adventure Dark Fantasy (Melas Book 1) by V.A. Lewis (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

said as he lowered his hand, "is going to last five hours. Once the time is up, the flame would have consumed all of its fuel, and it will snuff out. I want you to keep it burning without lowering its intensity until we stop to make camp."

"Wait, aren’t we going to be traveling for at least six hours? How do I keep the fire alive for that long?!" I protested.

The Dark Acolyte shrugged. "Figure it out."

Then he turned around and walked away from me.

This sucks.

I trudged along the dark forest, illuminated only by the silver moonlight… and the blazing torch in my hand. Goblins moved around me in the shadows, carrying large backpacks on them. It was not that the bags were big; it was normal in size for a regular Human. However, the key word there was Human, and not Goblin. And most of the Goblins were around my height.

Sure, some were noticeably shorter than me, and even less were significantly taller than me, but on average, they were just over four feet and a half. So their bags filled with equipment were comically big relative to their size.

It was like a cartoon! I felt like doubling over and laughing at the scene. I would have, but… luckily for me, I’m too focused on this stupid fire!

I stared into the flame, smoldering brightly in the night. It was frustrating; no matter what I tried to do, the fire continued to eat up its fuel. I tried making it bigger— thinking there was some kind of trick to it— but that only made it burn out faster.

Realizing that I was an idiot, I decided to spread out the fire more. Maybe that would slow its burning?

Nope, didn’t work either.

I tried calling the fire to me, making it dance, doing all the things I did earlier, but it was all to no avail. It’s literally impossible! You can’t do this without making the fire smaller!

But that was not allowed, apparently. So I had no options I could think of. I was just left with feeling the fire— both literally, and magically. And I had to somehow deal with the former too. It’s hot!

I just stared at it, seeing the orange flames flicker, watching it flutter in the wind; it was always moving, never static— and in that sense, it was no different from regular fires.

I felt it all.

I focused. And recalled something; knowledge from another world came pouring into me. I remembered how heat traveled, how radiation carries heat from object to object. But more than, I remembered a kind of fire that did not dance. That just stood there, like some kind of statue.

The blue flames made from modern machines; that burned so hot, yet so steady. And fueled by a concentrated and an abundant source of energy. Then I realized, I could do that too.

No, I did not have to change the fire. I was fixated too much on that redundancy. No matter what shape I gave the flame, it would eat the same amount of fuel as long as it blazed at the same intensity.

But no matter how hot it was— just like the flames from a bunsen burner, a gas stove, or any appliances that created fire— they would always burn as long as they had fuel. It was a simple realization, really. Not much of an epiphany. Yet it made all the difference in the world.

I pooled mana into the flames, concentrating on feeding it, rather than letting it feed itself. And it was not easy, as the stubborn fire chose to feast on what it wanted. At first, my attempts at fueling it with mana did very little to stifle the wax burning away underneath; it consumed both sources of fuel, and chose to burn brighter.

But I felt the flames, and I felt its hunger. So I understood it.

I quenched its thirst, and fed it till it was full. I left it satiated with mana, giving it exactly what it wanted. Its gluttony was gone, so although the fire still burned, the wax burned no more.

I smiled to myself as I looked at my triumph in my hand. I was just holding a regular torch, but I held it with pride as if I were the torchbearer for the Olympics.

I felt good about myself. However I also felt hot. Because the torch was hot. I sighed. Now I have to figure out how to keep it from radiating heat to me. Or cool myself down.

And I spent the rest of the time walking figuring out how to do just that.

Several hours later, we finally stopped to set up camp in a clearing; everyone began to pitch their tents or put up small wooden barricades around the perimeter of the encampment. Meanwhile, I presented the still-burning torch to Victor.

"Ah, good job Melas," the blue haired man said as he took the torch from me. "You’ve kept it burning for almost seven hours straight. Although I see that its fuel has almost run out and you’ve suffered some light burns."

I blushed, slightly embarrassed. "Well, uh, trying to focus on feeding the fire and keeping it from burning me wasn’t easy," I explained. "At first, whenever I tried to do either, I almost completely stopped doing the other. It took a bit of time for me to focus on both at the same time. I only got a bit used to it in the last hour."

"Yes, I can see that." Victor cast a quick spell, extinguishing the flames. "Regardless, it was a good exercise for you, was it not?"

"It really was." I nodded.

"Good, keep trying to find other ways to manipulate fire. Don’t limit yourself to what you think you can do, but think outside the box; with magic, almost anything is possible." He tossed the