by T. C. Edge
Stop. Turn back. Return to me, I order.
It spreads immediately into his head, stopping him in his tracks, forcing him to turn, dashing right back to my side. As soon as the order is complete, I see that milky quality fade from his eyes. He blinks a few times and then looks right at me.
"Thanks," he says, his voice small, suddenly distant. "I...thank you, Brie."
"Don't mention it," I say. "Just watch out for those Fire Elementals!"
He nods, and along with his men, returns to the fray. I do the same, going with him, my early tests of my evolving powers passing with flying colours.
More, I think. Time for more.
I turn my eyes across the glade, the enemy gathered there, firing towards us. Despite the frenzy of battle, I try to stay calm, peeking from cover, my eyes seeking out for a target. I find one, and shut my eyes, dropping low and into cover.
I can sense, feel those around me now so differently to how I once did. It's almost how Kira describes her power of the sight to me, her ability to see the world as a sort of three dimensional representation, combining her many super-senses to effectively see through walls, sense the exact presence of people without being able to actually see them with her real eyes.
I'm able to do something similar now; the world, behind my eyes, is a grey landscape, almost akin to how I see Zander now in my dreams. When I speak with him, we're always by his grave outside of the city, the mountains and woods and plains around us whitewashed and indistinct. Yet he is always there, clear as anything, my brother as he always was.
It's similar to that now. The world is grey and blurred, but the people are clear to my mind. I can sense the electrical signals of their brains, showing me just where they are. They don't take form like Zander does, but the effect is something similar. And there, right there, I find myself able to access their minds.
Not from up close. Not through eye contact. No, this is different now. I am different.
I have...evolved.
I pick my target, that of a Fire Elemental, focusing my attention on their mind alone. I try, from across the glade, to enter their consciousness, bend them to my will, take over their faculties and force them to do my bidding. I try to enter, but find myself somehow repelled. There appears to be something blocking me, their fire too wild and dazzling, as if creating a shield through which I cannot break.
I draw back, knowing that some are much more amenable to telepathy than others. These Fire Elementals, perhaps, have a natural immunity to my attempts to break in.
I scan the world again, seeking a weaker mind. I can, from that strange place inside my mind, get a sense for who will be easy to infiltrate, whose mind is weak enough for my penetrations to work. I find one, and try again, smiling as I force myself right in. A thrill works through me as I sit crouched and out of sight, taking control of an enemy soldier's consciousness from across the narrow battlefield.
If I could only learn mass control, I think, the prospect so tantalising.
I spread my control through the man's head, immediately knowing what and who he is. A Dasher - no, they call them 'Phasers' there. He's called Jonus, thirty eight years old. He has a wife, he has a son...
I draw away from that. I don't want to know. I don't need to know. Those details will only weaken me. I must see him as a soldier only, an enemy.
Only then will I have the conviction to act.
And act I do, paralysing the man where he stands. I can feel his body lock into place as I assume control, as though at a station, a dashboard in his mind, pressing this button to make him do this, that button to make him do that. I hardly even need to call out orders anymore like I once did.
No, I have such control of him that I merely have to think the actions, and he immediately takes them. And as with our own Wind Elemental, seeing the fire coming towards us from within his mind, I can see now from the mind of this soldier under my control.
I have, effectively, become him.
There, as the battle thrashes, and the air continues to rattle and explode with the sound of warfare, I step forward, within the body of the enemy 'Phaser' called Jonus, and right out into the open. I can hear his own people calling him back, wondering just what he's doing. I can hear them shouting that they need to displace, move to find a better position, find a way to flank us.
But he can't do anything but walk into no man's land, right into the arms of death.
Our men immediately see, perhaps wondering themselves what he's doing. And still in his mind, still looking out from his eyes, I sense his devastating, debilitating fear as guns lift to fire at him, and the bullets come flying.
And all the while, he can do nothing. Not run. Not duck. Not raise his weapon and fire back.
He is mine, and I want him dead.
And that is exactly what happens.
When the killing bullet comes - a crack shot from Marcus ripping straight into his head - I feel no fear or pain. I am a guest in his mind, only. It isn't like when Zander was killed, our connection so personal, so profound. No, this man means nothing to me. And when he dies, all I do is return to my own head, open my eyes, and smile at the wondrous powers I possess.
Good, Brie, I hear Zander whisper. Good. Now go again...
And so I do. Again and again. I take another, and send him mad, leaving him disabled upon the battlefield, no longer a threat. I take a third, and turn his allegiance with a thought. Assuming control, I lift my gun and turn it on my own men, firing upon the Children of the Prime. I kill one before the others take action, decimating the soldier's body - my body - with a volley of fire, wondering why he turned, whether he'd been driven mad by the terrors of battle.
The fight goes on a little longer, my powers tested all the while, until I see Commander Hendricks come rushing across on our side from another part of the woods. He sees me and Marcus, and speeds towards us, sliding to a stop.
"It's time to go," he says, his voice tight and tense, his eyes lit with the fire of battle. "More reinforcements are coming. We have done enough, and should conserve our men."
Marcus and I share a look. I can sense he wishes to stay, the joys of battle so dear to him. A part of me feels the same, wishing to continue testing my powers. But I know Hendricks is speaking sense. Already I can hear more of the enemy beginning to gather, the remaining forces from the original attack now managing to regroup.
With a silent call to our troops we begin our retreats, slipping off as quickly as we can, disappearing without a trace. Within moments, we're speeding from the battlefield, our men also more dispersed now, the groups of twenty five breaking into smaller units. We continue onwards, drawing back together in our groups, set to endure the long journey back home...
Something...something draws my attention as we go.
I turn my eyes to the distance, a quieter section of the woods. Again, that mighty aura lifts into my mind, luring me off in that direction.
Ares...
I find myself diverting my path towards him, making sure he knows we've gone. I hear Marcus calling from behind me, wondering what I'm doing.
"Ares," I call to hi. "I'm going to tell him we're leaving..."
He rushes my way, slipping to my side. "I'm coming too. The rest can manage."
I don't object as we dash off away from the fighting, moving through the shadowed woods, the smoke, the death that now coats the ground. Ahead, I see faint signs of a fight. There appear to be only two of them, great figures locked in combat, their bodies moving with such pace and grace and power, blurring into one, separating, smashing back into one another once more in violent, thunderous collisions.
Marcus slows me as we near, the two figures coming into clearer view. The smoke where they do battle appears to be absent, as if frightened off by their extreme power, blown away as they move with such speed. I look into that clearing and immediately note the figure of Ares, standing so tall and broad, flying around with his unmatchable magnificence.
The other...
I blink, confused, as I look at the other man. He is so...so similar. Equally tall if not taller, equally wide if not wider. His face is cast of stone as Ares's is, his chin chiselled to the bone. A great scar cuts through that chin, others lining his grim facade, his head stripped of all hair.
They stop for a moment, both panting just a touch, ten metres from each other across the small clearing.
Were I not to know it, I'd call them brothers. And this man, this enemy soldier, I know immediately...can only be a Herald of War.
No one else, nothing else, could go toe to toe with Ares like this.
With the tiniest movement of his eyes, Ares notices Marcus and I watching on. I look to his opponent, wondering if I could get into his head, help Ares defeat him. But somehow...somehow it seems pointless. Somehow I imagine that my powers wouldn't work on a warrior of such power, prestige, prowess as this.
"Captain Marcus," Ares says cooly. "Brie. You have...interrupted us."
I see the smallest smile rise on his face as he looks to the other man. His opponent does the same, dressed in jet-black armour, peppered with signs of scorching and burns. He looks slightly weakened by the frenzy of the inferno, the fight that followed, this titanic bout with the great Neoroman. I see blood on his chest and arms, a few injuries inflicted. Ares appears to have suffered wounds too, a large gash down his arm, his right flank bleeding from a puncture in his armour.
"Um...sir," Marcus says, eyes wide as he looks upon the two warriors. "We...we are retreating."
Ares nods. "I know," he says. He turns to his opponent. "You live up to your title, Perses, Herald of War," he says, his voice so tremendously deep and commanding.
The man, the Herald, looks back to him and dips his chin in return.
"As do you, Commander Ares," he says, his voice equally rich and bottomless. "It was...an honour to fight you here."
The two men stand, facing one another, for just a few moments longer. It ends as a light blooms in the far distance. I see the Herald of War turn his eyes, his gaze narrowing. And within a split second, he's gone.
Ares looks back to us.
"You said we were retreating, Captain Marcus," he says.
"Yes, sir."
"Then I think you'd better go."
"And...you, Commander?"
Ares's eyes move off in the direction of Perses, a channel of clear air left behind by his departure. "I'm going to stay and make sure all our men are evacuated," he says. "You two head back. I will be fine..."
"But, sir."
"I will be fine, Captain," Ares returns.
He turns to us with eyes that no one could ever question or doubt. I find myself nodding as Marcus does the same.
"Yes, sir," he says. "Of course, sir."
"The battle has been a success," Ares goes on. "But this is only the beginning." He looks to the distance once more. "I fear we may have only enraged the beast. Return to the city, and contact Neorome immediately. We are going to need more soldiers here."
"Yes, sir," whispers Marcus, as Ares continues to look off into the woods.
He turns to me, grabs my arm, and without a further moment of delay, we begin rushing back towards the city.
11
Kira
Most of my life, I've slept with one eye open. Always ready, always prepared, should I need to suddenly jump up and move straight into a fight.
Living among the Nameless, that was certainly the case, the Stalkers an ever constant threat. And here in Neorome, it was hardly any different, locked down in those cells with another Stalker, named Shadow by Dom, for company during my time as a gladiator and slave.
It's rare, then, and almost unheard of, for me to sleep so deeply, so comfortably, that I don't wake when there's a knock at the door. My mind hardly registers the sound, the movement of Dom beside me as he wakes and goes to see what the problem is. I remain peaceful, in the throes of some dream, as he leaves and returns a few moments later, my body so relaxed here, so happy, that my fears and state of constant alert can finally take a break.
Only when Dom shakes me awake, whispering my name, do I come out of that state of slumber.
I turn to him, blinking away the shroud of slumber, and look into those warm brown eyes. It takes me a moment to see the intensity within them.
When I do, I wake fully.
The old me comes back to the fore.
My eyes snap open, widening, my body stiffening and alert.
"What is it?" I ask. "What's the problem?"
I'm wise and experienced enough to know that an early wake up call at a time like this, and a look of concern like the one currently dominating Dom's face, is cause for worry.
"We're needed in the curia," he says. "Lucius has called an emergency meeting."
"What?" I say, my voice still croaking a little. "What's the time?"
"Not yet dawn," he says. "Get dressed. The senators are already gathering."
He moves towards his own wardrobe to fetch his robes, begins flinging them on quickly. I climb from bed and do the same, my eyes turning to the drapes covering the window. Through the thin gap between them, I can see the twinkling lights of Neorome still blazing in the distance, the horizon only just beginning to suggest the first light of dawn.
I begin dressing, slipping into a set of suitable daytime garments. They're so...weird here, all flowing and loose and colourful. So different from the rugged clothes I'm used to back home.
"What's this about?" I ask, as Dom completes his outfit.
The door knocks again, and Dom addresses that first.
"Come in," he calls.
Claudius enters with a tray, coffee and fruits upon it. He sets it down at a table and begins pouring.
"Dom?" I ask. "What's going on?"
He lets out a breath and turns to me.
"New Haven," he says. "They...they are calling for aid."
My chest seizes, emerald eyes narrowing. "What happened?" I growl.
He shakes his head, stepping over to take a cup of coffee, quickly gulping it down. "I don't yet know the details," he says. "Claudius just got word. We'll hear more downstairs in the council chambers. Come on."
He finishes his coffee, as Claudius offers me some too. I shake my head, my mind set on one thing alone.
And without wasting another second, we march down through the Imperial Palace, heading for the council chambers at the back.
I march quickly into the circular stone room, a hum of activity already buzzing about the room. From the other door that leads out of the rear entrance of the palace, I see a number of senators still coming in, mostly dressed in their white tunics and togas.
Some, I see, have guards with them, who await them outside. They look to be private security, bodyguards rather than official soldiers of the state. Neorome, clearly, remains a place where you need to be on guard, especially at odd times of the day and night.
Dawn is just arriving now, the first shadows starting to appear outside. Along with Dom, I march straight for the front, where Lucius stands in conference with several senior senators. Others sit or stand around, debating in smaller groups. The chambers continue to fill as we approach Lucius at the podium.
"OK, what's the latest?" asks Dom, immediately drawing Lucius's attention from the others, who bow at the arrival of their co-Emperor.
"Domitian," says Lucius, a little breathily. His eyes switch to me. "Kira, I'm glad you're here. This concerns you as much as anyone."
"What is it?" I ask, my eyes displaying my clear concern. "Dom said New Haven's calling for aid? Have they been attacked?"
Lucius holds a hand to calm me, though nods at the same time. "Not attacked as such," he says. "Reports are still coming in, but we're being told of an army approaching the city. The New Haven forces have staged an early ambush, attacking their forces merely hours ago. It...it sounds like it went well, Lady Kira."
"But why attack in the first place?" asks one of the senators nearby, shaking his head and looking utterly bewildered. "All the
y have done is started a war. Why not negotiate first?"
Dom looks at him, then turns his attention to Lucius, side-stepping the old senators remarks. "How big is this army?" he asks.
"We're not sure yet on exact numbers. Word is that it numbers in the multiple thousands."
Dom nods, turning now to the senator, a rather squat and frog-like man in appearance. He holds the look of a man with money, and lots of it. One of the older breed of senators, not the new lot brought in to represent all parts of the city. "And that is why, Senator Tiberius," he says. "This army has clearly not marched to New Haven to negotiate or strike a deal. Attacking early was obviously a smart move, designed to weaken them, and score a quick victory, with, I hope, limited losses."
He turns to Lucius again.
His co-Emperor nods. "The reports are positive on that front," he says. "Our allies lost only a few dozen soldiers in the fight, but managed to take out several hundred of the enemy's." He takes a sombre breath. "I regret to say that a few Neoroman soldiers did lose their lives in the attack."
"What?" says Tiberius. "Our men should not have had to engage! This isn't our fight."
"It is part of our treaty, Senator," says Dom firmly. "Ares was stationed in New Haven for this exact purpose."
"And now we hear they are calling for more aid?" says the grumpy senator, shaking his puffy cheeks from side to side. "Well I will not vote for that to happen," he says. "We owe New Haven nothing. This alliance, I'm afraid to say, isn't in our best interests as a city. It is," he says, turning his eyes on me, "predicated on this...relationship of yours, rather than anything else..."
"Senator Tiberius," comes Lucius's voice, calm and yet very clear in its severity. "I would watch your tongue, sir. You are casting aspersions that will not serve you well."
The threat is clear. I find myself silently thanking Lucius for his support. It doesn't always come, but he's very clear on this particular point.
"Yes, of...of course, Emperor Lucius. I spoke out of turn." He looks to me, and Dom. "I apologise, my Lady, my Emperor, for any offence. But...I do stand by my overall point. This alliance, I do not feel, serves Neorome well. We are far stronger than New Haven, and far more stable. What exactly do we get from it, aside from propping up a city in decline?"
