by T. C. Edge
I move back once more. "Elian, we can't. Not right now. Not with all this going on."
My eyes turn towards the flashing lights in the distance, the rumbles so far off. His don't follow.
"Is this about Jude, or Perses," he asks flatly. "Which one is it, Amber? It's one or the other."
"It's about...neither," I say, my eyebrows knitting tight. "You really think now's the time to pick up where we left off? Seriously, now? You think that's a good idea?"
"I didn't think at all," he counters, sounding aggrieved. "I just acted. I can't help how I feel about you, Amber. I...I really like you."
"And I like you too," I say, bringing at least a semblance of a smile back to his face. "What happened with us before, that was all real, all genuine. And, yes, Jude has changed things a bit, but that doesn't mean I've stopped liking you."
His burgeoning smile is wiped away. He nods, looking down, deflating like a popped balloon. "So it is about him," he says. "Do you love him?"
His eyes rise up again, the question direct. I have no answer but to stutter and mumble a few incoherent words.
"I'd understand if you do," he says. "You've spent a lifetime with him. We've only known each other for months. But...you do realise nothing can ever happen with him, right?"
I frown, angered by the suggestion.
"I mean," he goes on. "He's a Fringer, a Defiant. I'm sure he's a great guy, and all that, but facts are facts, Amber. He'll never ascend. He'll never be a Son of the Prime."
"And so that leaves you then, I suppose?" I say coldly. "It can't be him, so it must be you? Is that it?"
"No I...I didn't mean it like that. I'm not," he shakes his head, drawing a breath, slowing his voice. "I'm not trying to make it seem like that. I'm just worried, I guess, that you'll never care about me like you do him. With everything that's happened between us...how could you?"
His expression softens. I don't think it's a show. I find my guard lowering, drawn into this strange vulnerability.
"Why does it even matter," I ask. "When we get back to Olympus, you'll have legions of young women to court again. You're only interested in me because I'm the only eligible girl around here who fits your needs. I'm assuming Hestia isn't your type."
I smile, trying to lighten the situation, but he doesn't join me in the expression.
"Is that all you think you are to me?" he asks. "Just some fling on the road, a bit of fun?"
"Well..."
"You're not, Amber. You're...you're different. You're not like anyone back in Olympus, anyone I've ever met. You're passionate, and caring, and strong, and opinionated in the best possible way. I hate that I left you in those woods. I hate that I didn't help, even knowing what Perses did. I'd do that for you, Amber. I'd do...anything for you."
His eyes turn away, as though frightened to see what my reaction will be. I look at him for a long while, his words so touching, enough to almost make me forget about everything, step into his arms and ignore the whole world around us.
But I don't.
I can't.
All I do is step forwards and gently take his hand, lifting his golden gaze to my own.
"I know you regret what happened," I say. "And I know how hard it must have been for you. Elian, I really do care about you a lot. You know I do. You just need to give me some time to work things out, OK? Neither of us need this sort of distraction right now. There's too much at stake."
He begins to nod slowly as I speak, no further words of disagreement on his lips.
"We'll table it, then," is all he says. "We'll revisit it another..."
He doesn't finish his sentence, his eyes, and mine, suddenly swerving off through the scattered trees.
Drawn, suddenly, by glowing lights of blue and red.
Drawn by the sound of gunfire.
101
Without delay, we rush off into the direction of the sound and flashing lights, our hands quickly joining as we draw up a Fire-Shield around us. It spreads quickly, stronger than ever, glowing only faintly as we press forwards.
With our powers joined, we speed ourselves along with bursts of flame, singing the grass with each little boost. Ahead, illuminating the rolling plains, red and blue streaks rush towards one of our sentry positions, the soldiers posted there firing back from one of the larger fixed weapons at their disposal, an energy cannon similar to those raining hellfire upon the city, firing concentrated blasts of subatomic particles.
It hums and sends out its own charges of light, firing at a much quicker rate than the main artillery cannons bombarding the city. Lit silver, the charges rush off towards the enemy, firing back with their own energy rifles, the darkened plains painted with dazzling shades of blue, silver, and red, sometimes mixing into magical, multicoloured bursts as they clash.
As we rush forward, I see more light out of the corner of my eye, another one of our sentry positions being attacked down the line. Then, another, even further off. I turn to Elian, my eyes intensifying, and find that he's looking the other way, his eyes drawn by yet another burst of radiance off through the plains in the other direction.
"They're coming from all sides," I shout, as we pulse onwards, speeding quickly towards the nearest sentry post ahead. "Kovas was right!"
I feel a moment of recognition of the man's intuition, his fine call in doubling the guard, and posting more soldiers around the sentry stations. By the show of light, each station seems to be being attacked by only a small force. Another trick, as was suggested, to put fear into the men, portray themselves as stronger than they are.
Within moments, we're racing towards the action, our Fire-Shield lit bright as we go. Elian draws me towards the safety of the bunker, ready to drop in and assess the situation before rushing off into battle.
I grab his arm and pull, forcing him to a stop, the battle just a little way ahead.
"We can take them!" I say, glancing across the plains. There are a few trees out there, and some large rocks providing cover. There only appears to be a smattering of assailants, only a dozen or so, testing our borders. "Those weapons can't do anything to us."
Elian frowns. "What? They might cut right through us, Amber," he says.
He doesn't know. Clearly, he hasn't faced them yet. "They only bolster our power, if anything," I say. "We can harness the energy, Elian. I faced them before. We can take them ourselves..."
I don't wait for him to procrastinate, turning my eyes back to the action. Rushing off, I force him to follow to maintain our energy connection, the two of us speeding towards the enemy positions, flaming bright now as we go.
I can sense his uncertainty, hesitating just a little as I urge him forward. It tells me, quite plainly, that Elian wasn't involved in the ambush, that he didn't fight. And though he may not be the sort of soldier Hestia so doubts, he's yet to get his first taste of proper combat.
Time to test him, I think. Time to see what he's really made of.
With the fighting brightening up the plains, we feel no need to try to conceal our fire, rushing with great speed and increasing our heat as we go. I find myself directing our course, becoming the leader of our duo, a strange turnaround from training where Elian always steers our path.
"Don't worry, Elian," I call to him, our flaming advance stirring up the wind, creating an awful racket. "It'll be fine."
"I know," he grunts, as though aware that I can sense his anxiety. "It's a walk in the park, nothing more..."
He steels himself as though forced to do so, perhaps, to save face. No, he can't have me showing more bravery, more resilience, more leadership than him. He's been groomed for that all his life, hasn't he? I'm just learning this on the fly.
And fly we do, pressing quickly towards the trees and rocks, the continued firefight helping to conceal our approach.
"We should flank them," Elian shouts. "Get around the back."
I shake my head, lower my eyes, and let a grim smile creep up my face. Oh, it's the fire smiling, not me. It's the flames that are r
eady to feed.
"Straight through," I say, increasing the temperature between us, high enough now to kill most Fire-Bloods, to cook them alive from within.
"What?"
"Straight. Through," I growl.
I rush onwards, cutting directly down the path between the rocks and trees, half of the enemy on one side, the rest on the other.
"Fire left," I shout. "I'll fire right."
Elian has no time to question me. He merely nods as we press on, the soldiers now noticing us coming. They turn their rifles towards us, firing on instinct. Elian flinches as the bolts of blue and red come our way, yet I merely smile. They hit, fizzing around our shield, bursting into wondrous patterns, before being quickly assimilated into the barrier, feeding us, bolstering our reserves.
Elian's eyes light up at the sensation, golden and glorious, accompanied by a smile.
"I'll fire left," he says to me, grinning as he repeats my words, his hands starting to swirl and smoke, the fire licking between his fingers. "You fire right."
Oh, he's on board now.
We rush on, the enemy having no time to react or decide what to do. They aren't cowards, I'll give them that. No one retreats. All continue to fire. And by the time they realise the guns are ineffective, by the time they see that they're only feeding our cause, it's already far too late.
Turning opposite ways, with our backs to one another, Elian and I let the fire within flow out. It does so in great waves of impossible heat, radiating with temperatures that no mortal man could endure. I see the men, all dressed in regular, darkly coloured combat garb, quickly react to the wall of burning air as it comes their way, dropping their weapons, losing control of their faculties, stumbling to the floor as it passes them by.
We send no fire, but don't need to. The temperature is enough to set anything flammable ablaze. What trees there are burst into flame. The men's clothing seems to spontaneously combust. The burning red and orange haze works outwards from our bodies, spreading where we direct it, killing everything in its path.
It takes moments only, seconds before all the men are dead, burned alive out in the fresh, open air, so cold this night until we came. We turn darkness to light, winter to summer, heaven to hell without breaking a sweat. And standing there, the men defeated, I watch as Elian looks upon his first taste of battle and war. And to my great relief, he smiles, invigorated by it all, his own fire seeking to feed as mine is.
And hungry, with our eyes blazing bright, we turn our attention to the nearest lights...
And rush off to feast some more.
We join another battle, and bring the fires with us. Like devils we are, rushing across the fields, protected, hidden, by a glorious flame. Not once do we need to even consider using our firearms. Not once do we feel the urge to stop or rest. The weakness I felt, when battling those soldiers in the woods on that fateful night, isn't there. With Elian's vast wells of energy to feed us, and with my own body and mind so well rested as it is, we show the devastating power that our combined efforts can bring.
We show the enemy, right then and there, that there is no getting through our wall. No getting into our camp. And that, though they may have men of astonishing power like Ares, we have our own super weapons here too.
It isn't only us who show them that. Herald Gailen, too, displays his vast potential, his wild array of tricks and abilities. Floating and flying about on a wind, he rushes through the air at wondrous speed, drawing men into tornados as he goes, flinging them back off in the direction of their city. He joys in the act, born for war as he is, landing and, with frightening speed, rushing off and attacking on foot.
I watch in awe as he engages his deep powers of telekinesis, ripping weapons from enemy soldier's grasps, flicking entire bodies around and into their air with nothing but a swipe of the hand, crushing their helmets upon their heads, and whatever lies beneath.
So wonderfully inventive on the battlefield he is, that Elian and I find ourselves just stopping to watch, marvelling at the brutal display. He seems to relish in it all, a mute figure beyond the theatre of war, yet so charismatic when sent out to fight.
"The Overseer told me he was the strongest warrior we have, now that Perses is gone," I say, watching on as Gailen swoops upon another unsuspecting soldier. "I don't think he was lying."
Elian shakes his head, quietly amazed to see Gailen in full flow. "I've never seem him in combat like this. He's..."
"Remarkable," I say, nodding.
Elian nods too, and turns to me. "But so are we, Amber. Together, we can accomplish anything out here."
I smile, feeling almost convinced, falling into the very trap that Perses ever warned against. To always be cautious.
To never think yourself invulnerable.
Before long, Gailen has cleared up the final few stragglers, and the lights across the plains have gone out. Gathering our injured few, we draw them back towards the camp, more soldiers coming out to take their positions.
From what I can see, it isn't only our injured being carried back to camp, but some of the enemy's too. Herald Gailen, it seems, has made sure to spare several, only rendering them unconscious when he might have killed them instead. More prisoners to be taken to the stockade, ready to be set upon by the Overseer's penetrating mind.
The camp is awash with activity as we return, the borders being bolstered and watched with ever more care, additional defensive weapons set into place. Herald Gailen, being the man he is, indicates to us that he's going to stay outside of the shield, continue to patrol should any further attacks come. I make like I'm willing to do the same, but he insists, with those particularly emotive eyes of his, that myself and Elian head back to the command centre to give our report.
The night is getting on when we arrive, more excited still than weary, the adrenaline racing through our blood. We find Herald Kovas at his station in the command tent, calling orders to several of his senior military men, who immediately rush off to carry them out. The attacks may have been subdued for now, but the camp itself is likely to have a restless night, ready should more raids be carried out upon our borders.
Given how it went down, I doubt that will occur. The Havenites have shown themselves to be anything but fools, and to attack again now would certainly be that. Very foolish indeed.
"So, report," grunts Kovas, as his commanders hurry off out of the door, passing by Elian and I with watchful eyes, our bodies still glowing with a certain afterburn.
I allow, as I usually would, Elian to do the talking. At least until I have something to say.
"Five sentry posts attacked, Herald Kovas," Elian says, adopting a very crisp military tone. "Not a soldier lost. A few injuries only. Our defences held up well. Amber and my presence, and that of Herald Gailen, quickly put an end to the attacks."
"Good, well done, both of you," Kovas says, seeming rather more subdued than normal. "And you fought together well?"
"Very well, sir," says Elian. "We reached a heat signature that no one without proper protection could survive, not for a fair distance. We were able to direct our waves and blasts quite well, sir."
Kovas nods pensively. "And you could go hotter if you had to? You could spread those waves in all directions? Ignite them?"
Elian looks at me, and slowly nods, searching my reaction. He knows we can go hotter, as do I.
"Yes, sir," he says, looking back. "We were in complete control, not maxing out our potential at all. There's far more in the tank."
"Good. Yes, that's very good to hear." He strokes his chin, a mannerism Perses used to affect quite often when thinking. Then his eyes work up once more. "Anything else?"
Elian nods. "Prisoners, sir," he says. "Herald Gailen was able to collect several of them. They're being led to the stockade now."
Kovas purses his lips interestedly. It's hard to know what the value of any prisoner might be. They may spill gold, or else have nothing to say at all. "I shall have the Overseer look into it immediately," he says. "And wher
e is Gailen now?"
"Still out there," says Elian. "Just in case there are more attacks."
"Yes, of course. I have sent additional soldiers to bolster our positions. I may even venture out there myself for a stretch. Prime knows I miss the action. Being locked into this command tent isn't making full value of my own, um...talents."
"No, certainly not," smiles Elian. "Will you lead the main advance when we make our assault?"
"I shall," Kovas says, humming the words as if he's greatly looking forward to it. "I wouldn't miss such a thing for the world. When we strike, we shall do so with a great deal of force. All the Heralds and Chosen will be included."
His eyes sway towards me, rarely linking with them during the conversation thus far. He looks at me a moment, pondering something, before speaking again. "Do you have anything to add, Herald Amber?" he asks. "You seem a little quiet there. It's not like you."
He almost manages a smile at that. It's not particularly pleasant, but at least he's putting in some effort.
"Um, well..." I say, thinking. "I'd only say that, well..."
"Yes, girl, spit it out."
"It was...it wasn't very difficult," I say.
"Difficult?"
"That's to say, it was actually very easy," I explain. "The soldiers who attacked us during the ambush a week back were far more potent than these. At least, the ones I saw. I don't know what your experience was that night, Herald Kovas, but I saw some very skilled Phasers and Sensors, and they all worked extremely well as a military unit, very professional."
Kovas considers it, thinking back to that night. As with Elian, I have little idea as to his involvement. "There were some fine soldiers among the enemy forces that night, I will admit. If limited in number. You're saying these weren't of the same...quality?"
I glance at Elian, who really can't judge the situation, yet looks on, almost disappointed at my line of thought. "Not that I saw, no," I say with some conviction. "They were a little...panicky, I'd say. I'm not sure I saw many gifted Phasers. Certainly no Titans, or Elementals, or anything of that sort."
