by T. C. Edge
Herald Gailen steps ahead of us, reaches out his arms in front of him, draws a long breath, and then, in a swift motion, whips his arms outwards. A crack of wind, like a muted explosion, sounds as the smoke parts before us, the thick fog pressed to each side to allow us clear entry into the forest.
He turns again to us, and nods, before rushing onwards at speed. Just as the fire boosts our own pace, so the wind appears to boost his.
With Hestia calling out her orders again, we follow Gailen in, accompanied, suddenly, by the sounds of gunshots in the black mist.
83
With the threat of the firestorm, the great explosion, ended, a new one rises quickly to the fore. In the distance, within the chaos, I hear gunfire sounding from all angles, spread out across a sprawling space. It seems to come from the sides, closing in on the soldiers caught within the net, those carving the path through the woods now in a fight for their lives.
A set-up, I think, boosting myself forward in Gailen's wake, the man dismissing the smoke as he goes. This was all a trap. They knew we'd come this way...
The gunfire continues to grow, building up in a great crescendo. I hear it coming, now, from down the path far ahead, a sound that gives me hope. Our soldiers, our men, are fighting back, I think. Whoever's left alive isn't done yet...
We stay to the path, following it towards our men, searching for survivors as we go. There are none here. None dead, none alive. The action is all far ahead, the pathway through the woods all but complete.
Yet fires still burn, the forest ablaze. The heat, I know, must be unbearable of those unable to withstand it. I glance back and see Hestia and the Fire-Bloods in pursuit. Will the other soldiers be able to follow? Will they be able to lend their support?
My question is answered, my spirits raised, as I see a host of Phasers, many dressed in fire-resistant armour, come speeding along after us and quickly catching us up. A look of defiant determination launches itself onto my face as I see them, phasing towards the Fire-Bloods, joining ranks in behind. And among them, to my great surprise, I see Asher, a Phaser himself, coming to life, finding his purpose.
The sight gives me heart, the sudden attack working to pull us all together. As one we pour through that clear channel within the forest, patchy flames eating the trees around us, the rest filled in with murky black smog, regathering behind us as we pass. And as Herald Gailen continues to blow it from our path, so I and the other Fire-Bloods try to stifle the flames that encroach on us, drawing away their energy, taking it for our own.
It helps to revitalise those who are struggling, giving them new life, new energy to keep going. Ahead, many hundreds of metres into the woods, the first signs of life start to appear. All over, the sound of gunfire, of little skirmishes, continues to swell, sparking off to the left and right. And right before us, strewn across the path, we see our first casualties of war.
Soldiers lie burnt to a crisp, those unprotected by appropriate attire as the storm of flame passed, not thinking it necessary at such a time. I see a few dozen of them at least, dotted around, some little more than blackened piles of ash, shaped like men, others maintaining their form, their blood boiled by the heat, their lungs suffocated by the toxic fumes.
A feeling of dread fills me as I see them, my eyes flashing over each in turn. A few are gigantic, several Titans to have fallen. The others are of regular size, perhaps Forgers and Earth-Shakers here helping to clear the path, or Phasers and Farsights here to keep watch or scout ahead.
In death, all look the same, all are the same. Their gifts taken, their lives snuffed out. They will, as the people say, journey now to the Eternal Halls. How many more out there will join them?
All around us, the trees are black, the earth coated with ash, the air thick with a dark grey and black smog. We slow, more tentative, and quickly move to search for survivors. The Fire-Bloods speed around, putting out any nearby flames. Gailen continues to press away the smoke, lifting it high and though the trees, clearing the area of the murk.
He turns to me when done, unable to speak, unable to properly convey any orders he might wish to give me. Instead, he merely gestures off to the sound of gunfire, the sparking lights away in the distance, and nods. Then, in a flash of wind, he swoops off to engage, blowing away the smoke as he goes, and drawing a few Phasers along with him to help.
As others look set to follow, I find my voice, calling out over the clamour.
"No, don't follow!" I call. They look to me as I shape my eyes around the woods. "Others need our help. Gather into your troops and go. This is ground zero. We spread from here and push the enemy back. Go, now!"
I have no time to question my own order. It comes on instinct, right or wrong. Hestia shoots up to my side, eyes narrow, expression hawkish. "Where do you want the Fire-Bloods?" she asks.
I frown, looking around again, suddenly thrown into the position to lead. "Um... there," I say, pointing off in one direction. North, south, east, west, I have no idea which. All I know is that the flames are burning brightest there, and the gunfire is the loudest.
Hestia nods her agreement. "Sounds like they could do with our help. You coming?"
I hesitate, unsure, and realise I have no weapon to hand. Around us, I notice that the rest are quickly gathering up guns from the fallen, those without weapons arming themselves. Hestia sees one and darts to one side, picking up a standard issue rifle. She hands it to me. "Use this. I'll fetch another for myself."
I take it, the feel of it unnatural to me. "Thanks," I say, quickly checking the thing over. I prefer to use fire, if I can, but as Perses always tells me, you'd be foolish to enter a fight without one of these to hand.
The thought of him sets a ripple of concern within me. I turn my eyes left and right again, wondering just where he might be.
"Who else is out here?" I ask Hestia. "Which of the Heralds and Chosen?"
"I'm not sure. All the Heralds, I think, though not Gailen. Atlas, for sure. I'm not certain about Dianna and Taranus..."
"And Elian?" I ask, as he pops into my mind. "Did you speak to him? Do you know where he is?"
My voice takes on a desperate edge. I have no concern for Elian's safety among the fire, but who knows just what sort of enemy we're facing now, what sort of warriors the enemy has crawling through these woods.
Do they have their own Fire-Bloods, powerful Elementals of their own? Is that what start the blaze in the first place?
Hestia's answer sets a dull ache of concern within me. "I tried to speak with him, but he wasn't having any of it," she says. "I think I saw him going into the woods a little later..."
My eyes dart around. "He's in here," I say, sure of it. "You go, help where you can with your troop. I'm going to search for any Herald or Chosen I can find."
"But, Amber, they're the ones who need help least," argues Hestia.
"You don't know that, Hestia!" I say. "We have no idea what we're facing. Maybe they're being targeted to weaken us? Either way, we need them alive."
"And we need you alive too! It's too dangerous to go alone."
I draw a look of utter resolve to my face, hiding the fear within. "I'll be fine," I tell her. "I'm well protected."
She looks at my formidable armour, and nods, as I draw a strong Fire-Shield around me.
"Go," I say. "Our people are dying."
My words bring a stern smile to her face. "Our people," she says, gritting her teeth. We lock eyes for a second, a moment of camaraderie, before she turns, calls out to her troop, and disappears into the gloom.
84
I stand alone, wondering which way to go, enclosed within blackened trees and pockets of flame, the grey-black mists swirling all around me.
My body ripples with nerves and agitation, my senses primed for what I might face. Despite the fear, I feel alive, the fire in me fully awoken, licking its lips as it prepares to feast.
Already, the sounds of conflict are growing louder in certain parts, our Phasers rushing to add their rifles
to the orchestra, Hestia's troop soon to do the same. Both have ventured one way, the fighting there sounding more fierce. The other, pockets of activity still clatter, strange red and blue lights popping in the darkness.
I begin moving again, uprooting from that clearing, moving into the woods, once tangled and close, now blackened and burning. There's little physical cover now, save the stumps of trees and scorched rocks that remain, the odd cluster of plant-life that, somehow, managed to avoid the storm.
Instead, visibility is limited by the darkness and the smog, undulating and roiling about like the ocean before me. With my Fire-Shield and armour as protection, I send out pulses of heat as I go, pressing off the smoke, burning much of it away, moving deeper into the jungle in the direction of the lights.
I don't get far before my senses call out a warning. I stop, suddenly realising the folly of my advance. Clearing the air as I go, I'm nothing but a beacon to those who come near. And hidden beyond, within the mists around me, I sense the enemy drawing in.
I react quickly, dropping to my knees, refocusing my attentions on my shield should I be attacked. Crouching low, I turn my eyes left and right, searching, scanning. Slowly but surely, the mists begin to close in again, concealing me in its filthy embrace.
Movement. Off ahead in the mists. Shadows begin to creep, a half dozen of them in tight formation. They crouch low, heading in my direction, hardly making a sound as they come. I watch them from my cover, withdrawing all of my glow, drawing it in and, as a result, weakening my shield.
The troop continue, moving with a professionalism that I've seen little of in our own army. They work towards me before stopping two dozen metres out, all dressed in combat attire, carrying strange weapons, the tops of which glow faintly with colours of red and blue.
One of them seems to sniff the air, the others looking towards him.
"Anything?" a man whispers, his voice just about audible to me.
The sniffing man shakes his head. "Can't detect much with all this smoke."
"Hard to see or hear either," says another, his eyes glinting in the gloom. "What do you think it was?"
"Another of these Fire Elementals," says the first man, seeming sure of the assertion. "Saw a glowing figure from back there. Only they spark up like that."
Another, I think. Have they come across one already? Have they come across Elian. Have they...
I try not to allow myself to finish the thought, keeping it locked away within. Yet it flourishes anyway, a seed that grows and blooms into something dark.
Have they...killed him?
The awful thought drives itself into my head, causing a spark of fear and worry to break through. And with it, comes a flash of firelight, my body reacting, the flames burning brighter.
My heart thuds as I panic, trying to withdraw my heat, darken myself once more. But I know it's already too late.
The men take notice. I see them look, suddenly, in my direction. Their strange rifles are raised, pointing directly at the stump behind which I hide, their ends beginning to grow bright with those blue and red hues.
"There's someone there," one of them calls. "It's one of them! It's a Fire Elemental!"
Before I even hear the order to 'fire', I launch myself from my crouch, knowing the game is up, and set the flames free. They explode around me, like a fiery phoenix bursting from the ashes, lifting me several feet off the ground. There, I hover, arms outstretched, Fire-Shield at maximum strength, just as the onslaught begins.
The strange lights come my way, red and blue in colour. They hit my shield and explode like fireworks, powerful weapons of light and energy that batter right against me. I drop back down to the floor, my feet planting into the ash. My vision is obscured by the show of lights exploding onto my shield, the weapons so unlike the ones we use, firing rounds of pure energy, not solid shells like our own.
They hit, splashing like water, their colours merging with each other and my own; red, blue, orange, yellow, all creating unique combinations. For a moment I'm transfixed by it all, despite the dangers they pose. Should one get through, it'll surely kill me...
Or...would it? I wonder, feeling little strain from the attack. The balls of energy seem to hit me, doing little harm. Instead, I find myself sucking up the residue, drawing in the fire that comes my way. As with the flames that burn all around the woods, they appear to energise me, power me up, make me stronger than ever before.
I smile behind that shield, holding my hands up before me. I look down at them, see them shaking, filling with an energy that so yearns to break free. The sparks of fire dance upon my fingers, swirling around my palms. It is a demand, an order. Oh, I think I'm in charge, but not out here, not now.
It is the fire that rules me.
And it is time for it to feed.
So out it comes, gleefully pouring from my palms, splitting through the shield around me, hunting the men down. I watch as they try to scatter, try to flee, rushing off in different directions with the pace to match our Phasers. But not pace to outrun the flame.
The fire, hot as lava, catches them all, spreading out as it extends away from me, covering all of their retreat. They have no chance when it hits them, when it lathers upon their bodies, hugging them so tight. They don't burst into flame. Their clothes aren't set alight. They have no chance to drop and roll, try to put out the blaze.
No, they have no chance at all.
Bodies melt before me, dropping to the earth, fusing into it, becoming one with the lands on which they dwell. The power of their strange weapons, the energy they gave me, is given right back with interest. Everything - man, tree, rock alike - is dissolved by the devastating heat. The soldiers from Haven have no chance to even roar and scream out in pain. Before the fire even envelopes them, the heat causes them to pass out, hunting them down and feeding as they drop to the floor, relishing the taste of their corpses.
It all lasts for a few moments only, leaving behind a portion of woodland liquefied and melted, unrecognisable to what came before. I stand there, alone once again, looking at the downed men and the decimated woods ahead, a curious expression on my face. The fire that fuels me rumbles with glee at the sight. The rest of me, the real me, wants only to turn away, forget that this was ever necessary.
But it was, Amber, a voice inside me says. Of course it was necessary. It was you, or them.
The standard line people tell themselves in war, a line that couldn't be truer. But either way, it doesn't make it easy. I find myself standing there, torn and conflicted by it, knowing it was necessary, but feeling drained for the act. Physically, mentally, emotionally drained. It's as though there are two parts of me now; the true me, compassionate and kind, and the fire, the awesome power, that lurks inside, morally apathetic, seeking only to feed.
It's down to me to reconcile the two, force them to coexist.
I decide not to linger there long, though hardly feel drawn to more conflict. I listen for a moment, and realise that the sound of battle has lessened, the woods not so wild and loud, clattering with the sound of gunfire. The smoke continues to billow and blow, yet many of the fires are losing their steam. Have the soldiers of Haven retreated? I wonder. Have they done what they came here to do?
My thoughts are interrupted, the answer coming quick. From ahead, I see more shadows rushing through the woods, many more than before. They dash, leaving trails of clear air behind them as they come, skipping over debris, moving so quickly they hardly need to deviate around the flames. Instead, they flood straight through the burning patches of woodland, a dozen or more soldiers spread out from left to right.
My senses prime again as I see them coming in my direction. I turn about, wondering if this is a retreat, or whether they've merely been drawn towards the light, drawn to the commotion, as I took down their brothers in arms.
The answer is forthcoming again, this time definitive. As I twist about, I see more of them, pacing through towards me from another part of the wood.
They're
coming for me...I think.
A panic spreads, overriding the rage of the fire in my veins, as I search for some way out, some way to escape.
There is none, not against these men. They move quickly, their speed greater than my own. If I turn and run now, I'll be quickly surrounded and overrun.
No, there remains only one option.
I have no choice but to stand my ground and fight.
They keep coming, closing in. I sense them surrounding me, guns primed in my direction. My armour glows, a new shield set. Whether it will be able to stop their assault I don't know. With that many strange, energy-based weapons, I might just be overwhelmed...
I draw the rifle Hestia gave me from my back, ready to use it to converse my own strength. Drawing it up, however, I notice that the barrel is partially melted, its end fused and blocked. I shake my head, and toss the weapon back down to the ground. I only have myself to rely on now...
With my heart hammering, I gather all energy I have, and draw it around my body in a protective sheath. To attack now might just weaken me, reduce the effectiveness of my shield, make me vulnerable. I have only so much energy to spare, and right now, my safety is my main concern.
I need them to fire at me, I think. I need their energy.
The thought comes quick. It seems my only chance. I stand up tall, suddenly, revealing my full form. With a growing heat, I allow myself to shine bright, a beacon in the darkness, a target for them to hit.
I sense something out there, among the incoming soldiers. Something that resembles confusion, maybe awe, as though they've not seen the likes of me before, don't know quite how to react.
Yet when I get moving, they do react. Whether by instinct or order, balls of energy begin to chase me as I hurtle through the woods, running parallel to where they line up, firing their red and blue flame towards me.
They begin connecting, one after another, each one sucked into my own reserves, a little boost for my system. I keep on moving, and they keep on firing, giving me precisely what I want. A few seem to realise they're not getting through. I sense, out of the corner of my eye, that they're changing weapons, adapting to what I can do, learning so quickly their enemy's strengths and weaknesses...
