Young Flame

Wind whips across my body so fast it almost tears me apart. The feeling of simple air trying its hardest to smother my flames is only beaten by the intense jerk as we tear through the skies.

It’s insane how fast Tore can take us with a simple jump. Each time the earth rushes to meet us, I’m tossed around in his grip as he taps his foot against the earth and has us hurtling through the air.

Despite each motion being the slightest skip for the giant ursu, I’m sure he leaves craters in our wake.

I appreciate Tore’s willingness to assist me once I told him I needed his help, but this method of transport will rip me apart if it continues for long. It’s simply incomprehensible that there are people like Tore and Kalma out there with so much skin deep power that they could destroy their surroundings with a stray thought.

Back when I was with my tribe, I don’t even think I would have pictured Eldest Ember with as much power as Tore. But now, as I look up to her crimson moon, I have to imagine she might be beyond even those two. How else could she ignite the moon each night?

After Tore’s declaration, placing himself as their new leader, he chose some ursu he must have the barest of trust in, and had him enact his new orders. They had been brief. Essentially halt the war, bring back the ursu, and prevent the council from being re-implemented.

Tore, having brushed the responsibility of his nation onto someone else, did not hesitate to join me back to the pact nations. Rather, he hurried me along faster than I could handle. If I didn’t know for certain that he cared for the ursu, I would have said he wanted to be out of the nation as soon as possible.

Finally, Tore lands with a crash, tearing a gash through the earth as we slow to a stop. I tumble out of his hands and sprawl across the ground. I’ve been flying for years now, and yet I can’t help but feel dizzy from his form of transport.

When I regain my senses and look around, I find we are already at the border between the ursu and the pact nations. Nearly a week of flying, cut down to a few hours.

Tore towers over the misshapen dead earth of the former battlefield as he watches the tail of his soldiers pushing forward into abandoned land. Is he going to send them all back himself? As much as I would love for him to do that, I’m uncertain whether we have the time to travel along the entire front.

That the pact nations have abandoned these borders is not a good sign. The Mercenary Order is about as cornered as they’ve ever been. If they don’t throw out their heavy hitters now, then I doubt they have any at all.

If we waste time along the front, sending the ursu away, we are likely to miss our final opportunity to talk. To give the mermineae a reason to stop fighting. I know how incredibly slim the chance of us successfully convincing them, if not because of their hatred toward me, then the sheer terror they have of Kalma.

The ursu can wait. I doubt they’ll attack if they see Tore standing with the pact nations.

I pick myself up and rejoin Tore’s side. If it weren’t for his hard stare over his soldiers in the distance, I would have urged him to continue onward.

“I never wanted this.” Tore’s gruff voice is quiet, but impossible to miss. “This wasn’t my first opportunity to reclaim my will. I had been a coward then. Even now, I regret destroying Torben’s creation.”

I understand now that Torben was likely the first chairman of New Vetus, and it was that ursu’s efforts that created the nation it now is. Torben created the council and by placing himself as the ursu’s leader, Tore did away with the council entirely.

To be free of the chairman and council’s hold, Tore needed to destroy the governing system his friend created and take control himself.

“I am a warrior, not a leader. I am not worthy to take his place, but neither is any other.” He holds a hand out to me, ready to continue on, but his eyes linger on his soldiers.

His soldiers. They aren’t only of his kind now; they are his warriors. His people. His to be responsible for. If he has refused to take this position for over a hundred years, I can only imagine the burden it places on him. But compared to the last council, who engaged in unnecessary war while mistreating their own kind and the one prior, which encouraged discrimination of non-ursu, I believe Tore surpasses them by far.

Though it might be hard for him to lead, if he’s always on the front line. Hopefully, New Vetus isn’t in too much chaos from his disappearance.

I climb into his hand once more, not exactly looking forward to this ride, but knowing it is our fastest option. “Tore, let’s find the Viisin amongst the mermineae. If we have any hope of stopping their invasion, we’ll need to find them.”

❖❖❖

I walk by Tore’s side through the expansive, mermineae-control area. We are using ourselves as bait to reel in a Viisin. All we want is to talk, so the two of us have done our utmost to show absolutely no hostility. Though, even without intending to, Tore’s sheer size, and the way each of his footfalls can be felt through the earth, are likely terrifying signals to any onlookers.

And there have been onlookers. Some mermineae come close enough for my thermal sense to pick them up, even though they could have easily seen Tore from thousands of metres away. All we can do is hope they run off and tell the Viisin, or whoever commands them, that we are wandering through their land.

They cannot ignore us forever. Not if they plan to keep up the invasion. We are occupying a major chokepoint between Meja and the southern half of the pact nations. Or former pact nations.

Many states have already crumbled to the ursu or mermineae. I can only hope Vanguard is still safe. It is doubtful, as they are likely now facing the full brunt of the ursu offence in addition to the Theocracy. I hope Bunny is safe.

It is difficult to wait around like this when I know how tight things are getting, but if we can get the mermineae to back off before the Mercenary Order unleashes their elite, then we might stop the coming slaughter.

I know it’s hypocritical of me considering I’ve already inflicted countless deaths upon the mermineae, but I don’t want them to die in droves once the strongest of the Beiths are unleashed. Unless those of lesser enhancement flee from the battlefields, I can’t imagine any of them surviving the devastation that will no doubt occur.

I’ve seen how Spenne fights. I know how I fight. In a battle between elite greater than that, unintended casualties will be massive. Not only on the mermineae’s side, either. The pact nations still defend their borders en masse with unenhanced soldiers that will pose no obstacle for the fights that are sure to break out.

The best we can hope for is that the Viisin all run away from our strongest, rather than try to take them on, but that is wishful thinking. Unless we can give them a firm reason to back down now, they won’t when we need them to.

Finally, after a full day of blocking their major route, we have a Viisin grace us with their appearance.

Unlike their kin, the thick plumes of dust falling off their decaying bodies prevents them from any form of subtlety. They run across the earth on all fours until it stops thirty metres from us.

Now that I think about it, both the Viisin and Forvaal take on differing levels of decay to their bodies. The Forvaal experience it in their eyes, but only as a cost to their power’s use. The Viisin are unfortunate enough to experience the decay near eternally in exchange for the power it brings.

What about Kalma?

Does the decay affect her in a way worse than these mermineae? Could there be some downside to her power we can capitalise on? Well, if there is, it isn’t obvious to the naked eye.

The Viisin growls at us, his voice ragged and throaty. “Leave if you do not want death.”

Despite his threat, the very fact he’s giving it rather than attacking us on the spot means he’s worried about facing Tore. The Viisin looks small, but I can’t tell if that’s just because Tore stands so many times taller at my side, or if he’s actually smaller than his brethren.

I remain quiet, expecting the older and more experienced of us to take over negotiations.

Nobody speaks.

I look up at Tore, but all he does is raise an eyebrow at me, almost quizzically. Really? You’re going to leave the important, war defining communication up to a girl that’s spent the better half of the last year incinerating her way through so many of the other side’s race?

As if reading my thoughts, Tore nods and gestures toward the Viisin.

I sigh in frustration before walking toward the dusty merminea. He seems relieved my partner hasn’t joined my side, but he lowers himself, clearly ready for a fight.

Maybe he doesn’t know I’m the one that incinerated his brethren? Maybe he just thinks I’m some albanic. I find the idea annoys me, but it is still better than letting him know who I am.

“We aren’t here for a fight. We came to tell you to give up on these lands.”

I can’t see their face through the dust, but I can definitely hear their sneer. “You think we’ll back down because you ask, do you? This is not something we have a choice in. We cannot give up now.”

“No, I’m telling you to give up now, because this is Kalma’s plot to have you all killed. When the Mercenary Order lets loose their strongest, she plans to watch as they slaughter the lot of you.” Not the full story, but not untrue. It’s only important to tell him which parts affect his kind.

“That can’t be!” It is difficult to tell through his scraggly voice whether he is angry or shocked. “Kalma is still on the other side of the Alps, blissfully unaware. If she knew, we’d be worse than dead.”

“I’ve seen her over here with my own eyes,” I say. “Kalma is playing with you all. She gave you the opportunity for this escape so that she could watch you all get slaughtered. Her enjoyment is the only thing she cares about.”

The Viisin mutters under his breath. Something about ‘the others knew,’ before he readdresses me. “If what you say is true, then we are doomed regardless of choice. I’d prefer to take on thousands of your kind than risk Kalma’s wrath.”

The Viisin takes a step toward me, but stops at the same time I feel the earth quake. A glance backward reveals Tore a single step closer. The merminea gives up on approaching any further, but speaks in a hushed croak. “If Kalma is truly here, then don’t expect your kind to remain untouched.”

I give the Viisin a wry smile. “We know. And we plan to fight her.”

“Fight her?” he repeats, as if he can’t believe me. After meeting Kalma myself, I know exactly how unreasonable that concept might be.

“It’s better than letting ourselves become her slaves and playthings, is it not?”

He doesn’t respond. All he can do is stand there and either seethe or ponder upon my words. How he takes the insult to his race, I have no way to know. The dust still covers his features.

I return to Tore. It is unfortunate we cannot convince them to pull back on their invasion, but I still think it was worth the effort.

Now, we must go to the core of the pact nations. The Headquarters of the Mercenary order. Hopefully, we won’t be too late.