by T. C. Edge
His words are tragic, intended to sooth her during her final moments. He begins to stroke her hair in the rush of that bloodied, ruined square, whispering her into the next life.
I step away, feeling almost guilty to intrude on the moment. My eyes move off down a side street. Peeking from around the side of a building, I see a young man watching on. I begin stepping towards him, away from the plaza, eager to find out exactly what happened here. He reacts, moving backwards.
"Hey," I say. "You..."
I begin rushing in his direction, and he immediately takes flight, turning and running away down the street. I take chase, running at full pelt, following as he swerves left down another path, disappearing momentarily out of sight before I reach the corner, turn, and spot him again.
"I'm not going to hurt you!" I call out after him, panting heavily. "I just...want to talk..."
He doesn't seem to listen, continuing on through the town. I see no one else out on the streets, either locked away in their homes, killed, or taken off elsewhere I cannot know. Rounding another corner, my eyes shape to one side, and I see great plumes of smoke rising from a burning warehouse. Other flat, wide buildings spread out into an industrial area. I lose focus on the young man for a moment, turning back to see him scurrying off down another side street, slinking into the shadows like a rat.
I slow to a stop, my hands to my knees, panting hard. I shake my head at how unfit I feel, taking a few moments to myself as I stand again to my full height, and look around. Suddenly, I realise how far I've gone. I turn my eyes around and realise I'm entirely alone, standing in the open road, the warehouse burning violently nearby.
A slight tension suddenly takes a grip of my heart, strangling out a few quick beats. I try to calm myself, steady my breathing. And as I do so, I hear something nearby. Voices, coming from down another street, an alleyway between tightly clustered buildings.
I react immediately, moving towards the nearest wall, placing my back against it and holding my breath tight. I stop a moment, wondering who they might be. The voices are indistinct, but carry the tone of demands. I narrow my eyes and begin creeping down the street, working a little closer to the sounds. Slowly, they begin to clear in my ears, overcoming the roaring of the flames nearby as the warehouse crumbles and burns.
"I'm going to ask one more time!" growls a voice. "Where is she?"
I hear the sound of thump as I work towards the corner of the alleyway. I stop and don't peek round. My hand dips into my pocket, feeling for the syringe.
"I...I don't know," trembles a male voice. "I don't know anything about it."
"We know she came here," the voice growls again. "You're said to know about all comings and goings in Hunter's Station. Now I'm going to ask a final time. And if I don't get the answer I want..." He stops for effect. The intention is clear.
"I...I..." shakes the man's voice. "I really...don't know..."
"Then we're wasting our time."
The words are delivered like cold shards of ice. A second later, I hear a loud crack. I know immediately that it's the sound of a neck being snapped in two.
A feeling of anger boils inside me, adrenaline flooding through my veins. I feel the flickering flame begin to rise within. From my pocket, my hand comes.
And in it, the syringe comes too.
I hold up my arm, my face twisted into a snarl, and bite the cap off the end of the needle. Aiming it just right, I jam it right into my vein, press down on the end with my thumb, and watch as the liquid is driven directly into my blood.
And almost immediately, the fires begin to rise anew.
I feel them stirring, somewhere right in the depths. A distant blaze, an inferno rushing on. I think of the wildfire that surged through the woods, the ambush that took so many lives. I think of that great wall of flame rushing towards me, as I stood there with Hestia and the other Fire-Bloods, preparing to hold it back.
Now, that wall of fire is rushing towards me again. It's coming from the depths, rising like a great charge of lava, ready to explode through the top of a long dormant volcano. I see it growing, spreading, roaring with glee as it pours up through my body, relishing its freedom as it surges through my blood.
And as it comes, a great smile bursts onto my lips at the sensation of unquenchable power. My eyes burst with a golden radiance, and the flames explode upon my body, swirling around me as I take a breath, clench my jaw...
And step out to face my foes.
134
I stand, wreathed in swirling flame, facing my enemy.
There, a little way down the alley, I see a troop of a dozen Olympian soldiers, several dead Fingers at their feet. Men and women interrogated for information they didn't have. Killed for giving answers that they couldn't give.
They notice me immediately, and turn with bewildered eyes. Like a ripple across a pond, they all brace themselves defensively, raising their guns in my direction.
"It's her!" one of them grunts. "It's the Fire-Blood..."
"Fire," calls their leader. "Kill her now!"
The firing starts immediately, as I pulse out a thick shield of heat and flame. The bullets ping and flash against my flaming armour, doing no damage at all. I walk forward, filled with a controlled rage, the flames smiling as they coil around me, nuzzling me like a faithful pet. What was once a wild, unnamable thing, has become loyal, has become mine.
Oh, Perses was right. I have control now.
The firing builds into a great din, echoing around that alleyway. The soldiers realise they're having no effect. They begin to retreat a few steps and back away. I hear their panicked voices, and scan their frightened eyes. These are weak men, not even deemed strong enough to bring with us to New Haven. Sent here only to kill innocent people. Sent here only to find...
Me?
It makes no sense, I think. The Fire-Blood, they'd said. They can't mean me. They can't have known I'd be here...
With a sudden, violent pulse, I rush forwards, pressing myself towards them with a colourful burst of flame. The soldiers panic and back away further, yet one is too slow. I bear down upon him as he stumbles backwards, terrified of the flaming beast, the demon made of fire. I see his face crinkle in pain, bracing to be charred and melted away.
Yet as I come, I spread my shield around him, enveloping him inside it with me. He looks wildly from side to side as the bubble of rippling flame spreads past him, behind him, around him.
And within that protective shield, I speak.
"I don't want to kill you," I growl, standing ahead of him with glaring, glowing eyes, my body still hugged by a thousand tendrils of fire. "I don't want to kill anyone. But I will, if I have to. For what you've done...I will."
His eyes quiver and fall, his body trembling as he looks to the ground. Down the alley, some of the other soldiers continue to fire as they back away, their bullets sparking as they hit the force-field of flame that surrounds us. The control I feel, the urgency, the necessity...it's something entirely new. Something transformative has happened to me with the Prime's controls now gone.
The soldier, quivering at my feet, keeps his gaze down. His weapon lies on the earth nearby. He seems too frightened to try to reach for it. It wouldn't matter if he did.
"Why," I growl, "are you killing these poor people? Why are you burning down towns!"
"I...they're orders," his voice trembles. "To deal with the riots."
"The riots?" I demand. "What riots?"
He hesitates, confused. "You...your riots," he says. "You...you started this."
My brow furrows heavily as I look down at him. "Who do you think I am?" I ask. "Look at me. Look at me!" I roar.
Slowly, surely, his eyes begin to rise. He takes me in and, suddenly, a veil of confusion falls upon his face. "You...you're not her."
"Who?!" I demand. "Who!"
"The...the Fire-Blood. The Fire-Blood from the Fringe..."
A sudden jolt hits hard, bashing and exploding against my shield. I stagger backwards, s
ome of my focus lost. My shield briefly closes in, the terrible heat of the flame passing over the crouching soldier. The effect is immediate, igniting his clothes, his entire body bursting into flame.
I draw a breath as his terrible, blood-curdling screams begin to rise, and guide my eyes like lasers down the street. I see a soldier preparing to unleash another grenade, clicking to arm it before tossing it in my direction. I quickly gather my shield once more, centring it in front of me as the blast hits, exploding nearby to the burning man. His body bursts apart, his brief suffering ended. The walls either side of me are splattered with blood and worse.
I let out a growl, and step forward. I see the remaining soldiers look at me, terrified of what I am. But it's not me they have come for.
It isn't me they are here to kill.
They see it now, see that I'm not the target. The realisation washes over their faces as they back away more quickly, turning, running down the alley, freeing themselves from its deadly snare. I follow, enraged, and yet still in control. The conflict remains within me; to kill them or not. These aren't my enemy really.
Not really...
Suddenly, I see a burst of bright light appear within the alley ahead, blocking the exit onto the streets beyond. I slow, stunned, as the soldiers do the same. They stop and stagger backwards, caught between two walls of impenetrable heat, as a figure comes into view ahead of them, wreathed in flickering, swirling, vibrant flame.
For a moment, nothing happens, as the flaming form at the end of the alleyway stands and looks towards us. And then, in a sudden movement, I watch as they lift up their arms, and fill the space between us in fire, sending wild spouts of flame right at the soldiers caught in our snare.
They have nowhere to go, and no time to think. Within a moment only, as some rush back in my direction, and others futilely try to scramble up the sheer walls on either side, the flood of fiery death envelopes them. All are roasted where they stand, the inferno hurrying towards me, clashing with my own in a violent, raging burst of colour and light.
I watch, feeling little for their plight as the soldiers are incinerated right there before me, mesmerised by the spectacle as the alleyway churns and boils with flame.
And moments later, with a sudden calm, the fires fall away, leaving only lumps of black tar where the Olympian soldiers once stood.
All goes quiet.
All goes still.
I turn my eyes up.
From the end of the alley, the flaming figure comes walking. The raging flames begin to reduce, softening to reveal a dress of red, orange and gold. A dress of fire that covers her.
Her...
She steps forwards, like I've never seen her before, her eyes a radiant gold, her hair made of fire itself. And with a smile, she addresses me.
"Welcome home, Amber," says my grandmother. "I have missed you...so very much."
THE END
The Children of the Prime will continue in Book 7 - Rise of the Chosen
Part VII
RISE OF THE CHOSEN
135
I stand, staring at my grandmother as I've never seen her before.
Her hair is fire, her body draped in a dress of colourful flame. Her golden eyes shine out brighter than ever before, the cloak of age and frailty now dismissed from her facade. She glows with a youth that draws back the years, the flickering fires giving her the appearance of a younger woman.
And on her lips, a smile begins to rise, revealing the kindly old lady I've always known, the woman with whom I always sought comfort and truth in a world full of lies.
"Grandma?" I whisper, staring at her, hardly believing she's here. "What are you...doing here?"
She takes a step forward, closing the space between us. Behind her, the alleyway is filled with black heaps, the bodies of the melted Olympian soldiers who'd been searching her out.
Her, they had said, mistaking me for their target. Their target who'd been starting riots, rousing the common folk of the Fringe to cast off the yoke, to rise up against their masters.
Their target...my grandmother.
"It's so good to see you, Amber," she says, sidestepping my question, drawing me into a hug. I find my response tepid at first, my mind so consumed by questions.
And then I realise...this is my grandmother, whom I've always loved dearly. The thought causes my arms to grip tighter, pulling her close. I cling onto her old frame, still flaming, and relish in the warm embrace.
"Jude told me...he said you'd lost yourself," I say, holding onto her. "He said you'd locked yourself away in your cabin and had given up." I pull back from her and look again into her eyes. "But this..." I shake my head, regarding her magnificent, flaming frame. "I...I don't understand."
She smiles softly, and takes my arm, leading me away down the alley. Her eyes fall upon the Olympian soldiers with a note of dismissal, detached to their ugly fate. Further down, several Fringers lie dead, their necks broken for not providing the soldiers with the answers they were seeking.
She looks at them and sighs.
"I got here too late to save them," she says, shaking her head, moving past them with light, reverential bow of the head. "They shouldn't have had to die for me."
She turns away and continues to lead me through to the open street beyond. Ahead, the warehouses are flaming brightly, their food stocks raided and burned. I look out at the raging inferno, spreading through large areas of the town of Hunter's Station.
"They're taking the food stores to Olympus?" I ask, looking out. "Burning the rest so we can't get it?"
My grandmother leads me on silently for a few more moments, frowning to herself. "That's what we've heard," she says eventually. "There seems to be a lot we need to catch up on, Amber."
I look at her again, awed by her appearance. "How, grandma?" I ask. "I...I didn't think you had your powers anymore. I know you were the Chosen Fire-Blood once. I heard it from the Overseer. But...this?"
She smiles wryly, a note of nostalgia on her face. "The Overseer," she whispers. "He lost sight of me long ago. His influence has waned. It began to break when he left these lands."
"When he went with the army?" I ask.
She nods. "My powers were always there, but I never had proper access to them. I never...I never wanted them," she says quietly. "Until now." She lifts her hands up, opening out her palms. The fires rise, forming into figures of soldiers in battle, fighting and fading upon her palms. "Now I know my path isn't ended yet. I know I have more to give."
She sounds distant, almost, looking upon the flaming figures, dancing and battling upon her hands. Like a woman woken from a long slumber, opening her eyes to find the world so different, so dark. I reach out and take her cheek in my palm. She blinks and comes to, the figures fading away as she drops her hands back down, and looks at me.
"There's an army coming, grandma," I say. "There are five hundred of us already here. Thousands, hopefully, on the way. We're here to liberate the Fringe. To..." I take a breath, almost nervous. "To...kill the Prime."
I watch her golden eyes closely, wondering if her mind may have retained some measure of deep-seated control. She spent many years upon the Hill of Olympus, right there by the side of the Prime. With her powers returned, have those old controls returned too?
My fears, my nerves, are unfounded. Her response is immediate, and unequivocal, as a hawkish grin rises onto her face. "Good," she says, her voice low. "But...it won't be easy. You've met them now, Amber. You know of their power." She looks at me with a frown, peering closely into my eyes. "They have no power over you?" she asks. "You feel no...urges to..."
"To make them happy?" I say, completing her sentence, as she nods in return. Her expression turns a little hollow, as if recalling that very feeling, the profound emotion they can manifest in someone. "I did, not long ago," I go on. "I would have done something...terrible, grandma. But...no more."
"Then you are the lucky one, my darling," she says. "I can't say the same thing."
"W
hatever it was they made you do, it wasn't you, grandma," I assure her. "Even Perses knows that now. Even he has broken free."
"Herald Perses?" she asks, her eyes widening. "He has turned on the Prime?"
I nod, unable to hold back my smile. "He's free of them," I say, nodding happily. "It's...well, it's a long story. But yes, he wants to free the Fringe, and the people of Olympus. We think that killing the Prime will sever their controls."
My grandmother nods pensively. "I would imagine so," she says. "How do you expect to get to them?"
"I don't know yet," I say. "The Neoromans will find a way."
"Neoromans?" she says, pursing her lips. "I heard rumours that you encountered them to the south. An army is coming, you say?"
"We...expect so," I say. I smile and shake my head, finding it all almost overwhelming. There's just so much to say, so much she doesn't know. "We, er, lost down there," I say, trying to provide an abbreviated version.
"The Olympian army?" she asks. "That's 'we' to you, is it?”
I take a breath and smile. "It was. Still...is, in a way." I fix her with a look, as though to make sure she knows where my allegiance lies. "I'm here to fight for our people," I say. "To fight for good. I don't want to kill Olympian civilians. I'll only kill soldiers if I have to. And even then, I..."
My grandmother fixes me with a stare. “It takes its toll, doesn't it?"
I nod, briefly lowering my eyes. When I continue on, my voice is quiet, hidden almost amid the growling flames of the burning warehouses nearby. "I was captured and taken in by the Havenites," I say. "They were good to me. Good to Perses. Good to Elian." I look up into her eyes. "They want the Prime gone. They want peace between our cities. That's why we're here. That's why I'm with them now."
She nods, watching me silently. "How your life has changed, Amber," she says tenderly. She reaches out and presses her old palm to my cheek, the flames still flickering, sending a warmth through my face. "So much for one so young to bear. I want to help you wherever I can."
