Young Flame

Without a second delay, Tore leaps into the air. The pressure slams through me at his sudden movement, and it’s only due to the ethereal flame latching onto the hide of his upper shoulders that I stay with him.

Allowing my body to become this intangible has some strange effects. My fingers seem to phase through his fur, binding me in place as my inner flame could when burning inside those Viisin bodies. Unlike those Viisin, I’m unable to penetrate his skin. Only hairs allow me to hold on. Most likely, it’s because of his overwhelming enhancement that I can’t push my fingers into his flesh.

In this state, the air hardly bothers me; as we rocket into the air at insane speeds, it simply passes through me, but the force of Tore’s jump still hits me with full force.

The ursu holds his sword over his shoulder as we rise well over a thousand metres to meet the mountain falling from above. The slab of steel feels slightly stronger than normal, but not by much. If I were to let my flames cook the metal, it would melt without issue. The missing edge from the beginning of his fight with Kalma is clear enough why he hasn’t used his blade until now.

In no time, we reach the massive rock falling above. Tore swings down his blade, slicing through with ease. The impact sends a quake through the mountain, opening a large fissure along the path of his blade.

It’s an immense, devastating attack that leaves a deep crevice in the mountain… but that’s all it does. The rock doesn’t break; it doesn’t even come close to slowing it, and at most, the strike is only good for sending us back to the earth. Despite all the power I know resting within those thick arms, the mountain remains unhalted.

His blade is nothing more than slightly enhanced steel, and yet Tore can still inflict such damage without the weapon breaking. With my flames interwoven through the metal, I can feel how, as he swings the sword, a strange densification occurs, enhancing the blade’s hardness and strength for the brief time.

I guess even Tore relies on more than brute strength. Neither his body has markings nor does his sword have inscriptions, so I wonder how he achieves such a thing?

Tore bounds off the earth, sending us upward once more.

The falling mass hasn’t moved far, but it is gaining speed. Wind whips around us. The air trying to flee out of the mountain’s path. The lower surface has gone from glowing rock to near molten in the few seconds since it began falling. While my inferno spread across the earth is sweltering, it can hardly be giving off enough heat to burn rock from so far away.

As strange as the effect is, it makes for a great invitation for my fire. While Tore prepares to strike into the fissure, I carry the inferno behind me. I can’t lift all of it at once. There are kilometres of it, far too much to control with haste, and especially not through the sky where there isn’t anything but air to consume. So I use myself as a conduit. The fields of fire rush inward before blasting past me.

The wide fissure overflows with fire before Tore’s blade gouges through the stone once more. His blow jerks us back downward, but it is enough. The fissure spreads through the mountain. My flames spread through the cracks as they spread with each quake.

The mountain splits.

But that doesn’t really solve the problem.

A pillar carries my flame to the now two mountains in free-fall. The semi-molten lower surface of both, allow my flames to spread across them rapidly, and without delay, the immense rocks are set ablaze.

The surface of the fractured mountain is easy to spread across, but with ethereal flame I can push through the hard rock before it even melts. Though, piercing through takes time. Time we don’t have.

Considering the rate it’s falling, we have a little over ten seconds before it hits the ground. Definitely not enough time for me to burn through. It’s crazy I’m even able to cover such distance with my flames. Maybe I should thank Kalma for her donation? I’m sure she would take that well…

With his next blade swing, Tore sends us bounding between each rock. Each ricochet fractures the mass of stone slightly more, along with spreading them further apart. Soon, we have four, then eight masses falling in unison. It doesn’t stop the threat they pose, but it makes my fire much easier to spread through.

Each surface exposed to air is already dripping with molten rock. If the mountains weren’t falling, I’m sure the lava would be raining down on anything below. Actually, they hardly look like mountains anymore. The deeper my flames breach through the rock, the more the accumulation of stone appears like a flowing blob of magma.

Below, the ground is approaching far too rapidly. It has passed the halfway point in its fall, but that means we only have a few more seconds before impact. Tore shreds through the rock, making my time eating through it all far easier, but it will still be close.

For a moment, I lament the waste of resources. I’m consuming far more than I could ever need. It may be only rock, but with this immense quantity, even rock fills me beyond belief.

Through the gap in falling mountains, I can see the sky again. The rotten growth of night across the midday blue remains a blemish. But far overhead, barely visible on the border between day and night, is Kalma. She remains still. Floating in the air, eyes closed and hands hanging wide, Kalma breathes out and a shiver runs through me.

I pull all the flame I can around us, but that won’t be enough. Tore doesn’t seem to realise the danger we’re in; he swings his sword at the mass of rock like the last twenty times, unaware of Kalma looming above.

The falling mountain wasn’t her attack; it was a distraction.

When Tore’s sword impacts the rock, I blast us with every fraction of flame it holds. I focus everything I have on converting the flame to physical and pushing us away. Tore’s swing would have had us going toward the next rock to break, but I couldn’t have him swinging again. My flames add to our speed, but push us away from any of the other mountains of stone.

Tore is heavy, but with such an immense blaze at my call, it is possible to accelerate us away. I have to pull every fire away from burning through the mountain to get us even the slightest bit further away.

A second passes with nothing happening and doubts enter my mind. We still haven’t reached the end of the pieces of mountain, but because of my action, there’s no chance we’ll be able to stop it now. If Tore and I continued cutting and melting as we had, it would have been possible to stop it, but not anymore.

I calm my writhing flames. No. I trust my instincts on this. With no more hesitance, I thrust us as far away as I can before it’s too late.

❖❖❖

Tore was a man defined by respect. He dedicated his life to the leader whose wisdom, charisma, and drive were leagues beyond any that came after; the man he respected most.

Tore did not give respect freely, so it was no small feat that such a young child could gain it.

And it is only because of that respect, that he did not strangle that young áed as they sped through the air.

Between the two of them, the destruction of the restructured earth above was possible, if not assured, but the girl ruined their chances. Did she not realise the potential damage the impact would cause? It was not the immediate damage that concerned Tore — on such a devastated battlefield, even if the blast was wide, the number of lives it would take would be minimal — No, it was what would come after that would kill the most.

Ash filled skies would leave the land inhospitable. Tore knew better than anyone just how fragile the average life was. Such a massive disturbance in the earth would bleed smoke and ash into the sky for years, cutting all sunlight and sending the land into a long winter. Famine and disease would spread. Only those fortunate to flee would survive.

Tore was intimately familiar with how things would play out. He had lived it. The Titan Cipactlteteo, disturbed from its slumber, had toppled the island of Vetus’ tallest mountain. Back then, he had been nothing more than a child. Now, he is the only ursu to have seen their homeland.

The áed, Solvei, as much as it is because of her he finally had the will to go against a legacy of Chairman Torben, has now doomed his people to a repeat of two centuries ago.

At least, that’s what he believed until everything behind them disappeared.

The mountain above and the earth below, Solvei’s flames and the air itself, nothing remains. Not even a sound reaches them until gale winds rip into the absence of air.

Tore’s eyes widen. He hadn’t even felt it coming. Each of his opponent’s attacks always came with the slightest sensation before it hit that he had used to gauge the strength and distribute his defences appropriately. But this attack had none of that. There was not even the slightest warning before it hit.

Tore glanced over his shoulder. How had she known?

A short gasp escaped Solvei, and Tore felt her grip tighten on the thick hide of his back. The flames that pushed them through the air were gone, so they plummeted with all the built up speed Solvei had managed.

Tore landed as gently as he could after coming in so fast. But even as he slid through the dry earth like it was mud, the pressure wave that blasted through his back was too great to ignore; strong enough to burst the eardrum of any unenhanced.

Behind them, an explosion of glowing red ash shot outward. The peripheral of the falling mountain had been left untouched by Kalma’s attack and impacted the earth with a force thankfully nowhere near what it could have been, but the damage had been done, regardless. Cinders and black dust rose high through the air.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” Tore said.

The young áed let out a nervous chuckle. “Don’t worry, I doubted me too.”

Tore lifted his weapon, the blaze burning across its edge the only reason he could use it. Now wasn’t the time to deliberate over scars of his past. The ash may spread, but that was no reason to turn his eye from an opponent. It was a mistake that almost cost Tore not only his victory, but also the life of his charge.

A mistake he would not repeat.

Tore readjusted his grip, holding his sword wide before leaping through the air. No matter the danger that should face the world, he would not take his eyes from the threat before him.

Tore’s opponent was strong, far greater than any other he’d fought, yet his carelessness nearly cost them. He had grown complacent. So many years had passed since his strength was last challenged. Kalma was a threat he could not ignore, not even for a second, and so he would treat her as such. It was time to end this.

Tore breached through the thick, hot ash and found himself over nothingness. For dozens of kilometres, there was no land below, only depths which ate all light that entered. All around the rim of this pit were sections of smoking earth crumbling into the darkness.

The flames around them spread wide, forming hundred metre wide wings that sped them toward Kalma. Much of the áed’s inferno was obliterated alongside the falling mountain, but it seemed she still had enough under her command to lift Tore’s immense weight.

Kalma didn’t flick her tail, nor make any other clear actions to indicate an attack, but Tore felt it coming regardless. Solvei did too, as her flames lost their weight before the blast of decay overcame them. The impact passed without issue, and Tore felt the lift from the áed’s flames return.

They rose toward Kalma. The being suspended high above unleashed an onslaught of decay, and Tore felt the flame around him switching states to push them closer with each window of opportunity.

Tore readied his blade to strike. Solvei had done her part masterfully, but it was time for him to do his.

He focused his presence and compressed it the moment before his blade pierced his opponent. It had been a long time since he learnt that one’s presence could be used for more than just intimidation. Mostly, Tore only used it to keep his sword from shattering under the force of of his blows, but against Kalma, he needed to be more creative.

Tore thrust the blade through Kalma’s chest. As her body decayed, he unleashed his presence upon her. His opponent’s eyes widen in shock, clearly feeling the effect. She immediately stopped the decay, recovering the body she’d already melted away, but Tore’s sword stays lodged in her chest, from navel to the bottom of her neck and piercing out her back.

Kalma flailed, unable to escape because of Tore’s pressure. She flung wave after wave of decay over them as they fell many thousands of metres, none penetrating the engulfing flames. Each opportunity given to her, Solvei applies thrust to their fall, accelerating them further.

The pillars of ash encircling them soon made way for cliff faces as they descended below what once was the surface. They fell, continuing to speed down into the earth, but the ground never met them. The sky above shrunk until it was nothing more than a speck of light, and yet they still fell.

Tore held his blade tight and pressure tighter as his opponent’s struggles only intensified. An entire minute passed before Tore caught sight of something below. In the near non-existent light of this abyssal hole, Tore plants his foot on his opponent’s torso before kicking away with all his capability and tearing his sword from the cavity in her chest.

Despite the power of his kick, and the sudden downward thrust from his little passenger, Tore still hit the slanted surface with enough force to shatter his arm. The earth did not even budge under the excessive momentum he’d built up and so Tore rolled down the slope until he got his feet under him.

The injury was severe. The worst he’d had in a long time. But his primary sword arm was fine to continue the battle. Even now, he could feel Kalma fighting his pressure, trying to teleport away with hysterical urgency. The fall hadn’t killed her, but she was weak; her attempts came nowhere close to breaking his hold. She lost her composure. Unless she regains it, she has no chance against his presence, and Tore isn’t about to let her regain it.

He charged forward, flaming sword slicing through her head. It regrew quickly, but her recovery was unstable. Slow. Her eyes narrowed and, expecting an attack, Tore twisted his blade, knocking his opponent into the air. He jumped forward, but the expected attack didn’t come. Kalma, inexplicably terrified, cancelled her attack.

Tore didn’t question it. He simply swung his blade, slicing her from neck to tails. Each time his blade would connect, she would recover, but each recovery was slower than the last. All he needed to do was wear her down.

He soon found that whenever the sloped ground beneath his feet would be in the path of her attack, she would pull back, unable to even make the attempt. Tore was quick to make use of this, keeping her above him. Not once did she stop trying to flee, but as the battle wore on, her focus only deteriorated.

Solvei’s flames illuminated the dark pit. The ground was a perfectly flat surface set at a consistent angle that shone under the illumination, like an amber diamond. What was more strange about the bottom of this pit was the air itself. Tore couldn’t see the walls despite the áed’s bright light, but occasionally, from the corner of his eye, he was sure he saw something, only for it to disappear when he looked closely.

At one point, Tore swore he saw himself, a reflection bathed in the candescent glow. He would assume it was the flickering of Solvei’s flames casting illusions if he weren’t so sure of his sight.

“Bastards.” Kalma coughed up blood. Healing even that was too much for her now. “Enjoy damnation. The Anatla won’t be merciful to your souls.”

Kalma let out a sound indistinguishable between a cough and a laugh before she made it clear she was preparing another attack. Tore didn’t give her the chance. His blade thrust through her head and she toppled to the ground. Kalma bled out. She didn’t decay, nor did she recover. Blood slid down the slope beneath her.

Kalma was dead.