F³ Pyrean Flaw

Carl stalked my way, in no hurry with his sword at the ready. I had no sword, which meant a classic duel was out of the question. Did have chain lightning at my disposal as well as any number of other nasty lightning attacks, and I might have to resort to them, but something was working my brain. I had noticed something about how Carl fought. When I jet along the ground to get away from him, something had clicked. I just didn’t know what, yet.

M³ Family Trauma

Okay, so what’s with Joseph? Why is he torturing his brothers and father like this? Why can’t he let bygones-be-bygones? Well, the simple explanation is that this story is very human. By that I mean we can’t expect people to behave in a strictly rational fashion. Emotions are involved, and they get messy, and we’re not just talking about Joseph’s emotions.

F³ Steam Bath

Carl didn’t waste any time, unleashing more needles of flame in my direction. I copied his move in my own way, unleashing a tornado-force blast of wind around me. By circulating it around me, I was able to take it back in, otherwise I would’ve emptied my tank.

M³ Joseph Puppet Master

Despite Jacob’s feelings, the reality is that there’s no food. The brothers need to return to Egypt, and they need to take Benjamin. Of course, it can’t be that straightforward as Joseph is really into manipulating his brothers.

F³ Balloon

I knew better than to think I had won. Carl had been doing his thing with fire for years, maybe decades. I only had a few years under my belt. Still, the bands were working, so I prepared some more to send out as well as some lightning that would flow along the bands like an electric fence.

Heat erupted out of Carl as he became the Human Freaking Torch in front of my eyes. The air in my bands superheated and exploded like a popped balloon. As quickly as the fire had come, it disappeared.

“Wow,” I said. It was all I could say. I hadn’t seen anything like it except in comic books.

“Next round,” Carl said.

M³ Jacob's Trauma

Joseph, still in disguise, is all too happy to sell the brothers food, although he does ask for a ransom of sorts. In order to know if the brothers are truly spies, he holds one back (Simeon volunteers) and asks that they return with their youngest brother Benjamin. He’s not heartless, though, as he returns the brothers’ money in with their sacks of grain.

F³ Constricted

I could’ve easily won by keeping my distance. Pyreans had nothing on Storm Riders when it came to fighting at a distance. Lightning would cross in an instant, too, no chance of dodging. But I wanted the close combat. I wanted to know how to hold my own up close, and without the home court advantage.

I pulled my board from around my back, and darted forward, looking a lot like the Silver Surfer from comics as I leaned in. Again, I avoided the lightning, not just because it felt like cheating, but because it tended to use a lot of my own energy. I could hold more wind than lightning, so I let the wind circle my fists in tight bands, weaving them into a pattern. It wasn’t solid, like my wall had been. This was something else.

Carl hadn’t been idle, though, getting airborne on his jets again. I didn’t see any kind of obvious attack, but I knew he had to have something ready.

My instinct said to make the first move, to blow him out of the sky and neutralize him before he could attack. I could probably do it, but that was Jack’s way. His words came to mind again from our training. “Hit first, hit hard, then hit the buffet.”

M³ Machinations

Joseph, his identity fully secured against his brothers, really kind of hams up the role, now. Which, as we’ve said, is really kind of a soap opera plot, so why not? He accuses his own brothers of being spies. Which, really, is not that much of a stretch when we consider things from a strategic standpoint.

F³ Burned

Carl recovered, quickly, tossing a couple of fireballs into the air.

Seems half-hearted. I know he can do better than that.

I used jets of air to dodge the fireballs, and gathered up the geyser’s steam cloud into a board shape behind my back. I’d be much more maneuverable on a board than cloud stepping.

Unfortunately, I found out what Carl was really planning. Instead of another fireball, He launched hundreds of fiery needles in a mushroom cloud towards me. Reflexively, I direct a jet of air in front of me, which knocked out some of the needles, but others slipped past the jet, lodging painfully into me, burning holes in my clothing.

“Point, Carl, douchebag.”