Young Flame

The first thing to catch my eye upon climbing the stairs is the sloped walls wreathed in the same alteration I’ve seen everywhere else. The room is bare besides a single control panel, leaving the dome chamber as almost a window to view the flowing green mists.

With this panoramic view all around us, it feels like we’re standing in the clouds. Again, no distinct forms appear through the obfuscation, but consistently, it’s like there is something in the corner of my eye that disappears any time I turn my head. By the shifting eyes of my companions, I’m not the only one experiencing the oddity.

With such a strange sight around us, it is hard to focus on the central pillar, which is clearly the control for something incredibly important far below us, if the immense network of inscriptions threading down the hole beneath it. Something as important as, say, the ranked water production.

The control pillar rises from the centre of a tube that must travel directly through the centre of the spiral staircase. Within a small indent on the pillar is a single interface sphere. Right above that, at eye level, is a hand-sized cube I would consider the most altered by the green glow so far.

The ethereal quality is so present in the metal — I assume it’s metal, but really, it is impossible to tell — it doesn’t even look real anymore. If not for fractures lining the surface, I’d assume this was a portal to those green clouds. I could reach through and touch them if I so wanted.

Unable to hold myself back, my hand touches the cube to affirm that it is solid. The contact is strange. For the first time, I feel push-back. The energy doesn’t let my flames pass, nor does it simply block my path; it tries to rush through my flames.

Of course, nothing happens. Just like it could stop my ethereal flames, those very flames could stop this strange energy.

I jerk my hand away. Even if it fails, I don’t want to give it the opportunity to try again. Instead, I do the same thing with the control orb before me, inserting my flame and pressing in the pins to unlock its motion. This time, I’m careful not to move the sphere. The lack of anything obvious happening strikes me as a good indication that it truly was the random movements I made that opened that wall.

Huh. I must be lucky.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Leal asks besides Grímr at the top of the stairs.

I don’t even need to turn around to know they’re looking at the walls and the flowing mural bleeding through them.

“Never,” Grímr says.

“I haven’t either.” Yalun sounds irritated. “It doesn’t make sense. None of the theories I have come even close to applicable. I don’t like it.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Leal asks. “What good would it be if we knew everything? There would be nothing to explore and nothing to discover ourselves.”

Yalun grumbles in dissent, but doesn’t vocalise her disagreement.

Śuri stands over my shoulder and reaches for the cube in its slot. Above and below it, thousands of inscriptions lead into it, but it is clear the cube is removable. If I was willing to grab it again, I could probably take it out. I’m not sure of its purpose, but it is obviously important.

Now that I think about it, why does the energy act as it does? Sometimes it is welcoming, while at other times it refuses my touch. The strangest and most eerie aspect of the green phenomenon, is that is almost feels analytical any time my flames come in contact with it.

It’s as if the energy is alive. Sentient.

I jump at an exclamation of surprise from Śuri. The áed steps away from me, snapping his hand from the cube. His fingers are wreathed in bright green flames. They are unnatural. The heat exuding from them rapidly expands beyond anything I’ve felt other than directly from Śuri.

The grand elder has lost control.

I go to protect my friends from the sweltering heat swiftly spreading through the room, but I needn’t bother; both Śuri and Yalun already have it under control, isolating the grand elder’s distorted flames.

It is horrifying how the energy could spread and take control of the unbelievably hot flames of my elder. Nothing should be able to take the flames from an áed. That’s simply impossible. What could have more will over fire, then fire itself?

What’s worse is that the poisonous green flames are climbing his arm at a concerning pace, taking over ever more of Śuri’s body.

The grand elder doesn’t hesitate. With his other hand, he unsheathes his sabre and severs his arm. Instantly, the remaining hand succumbs to the green flames, growing to burn with an unparalleled intensity. Through all three of our efforts to block the heat from reaching Leal and Grímr, the water our ursu summoned in defence is already sizzling and steaming.

Thankfully, the flames burn up rapidly, disappearing after raging through half the dome chamber for only a few seconds.

“Alright, nobody touch that cube,” Śuri says unnecessarily.

After a moment for us to return the room to normal temp, Leal finally drops the aquatic barrier with a sigh of relief.

I’d love to join her in that relief, but something far more concerning has caught my eye; the energy pervading the walls surrounding us now flows with far more uniformity than before. It spins around us rather than in random motions.

Then, the strange, otherworldly mist drops out of our view, and I gasp. Now, without the clouds to block our sight, a truly alien landscape makes itself known. There is no denying what I see. No other explanation could possibly make sense.

This is a window into another world.

Above us, is a pink ocean, like the world decided the sky was the proper place for endless waters. The colour stands out from the green obfuscation we’ve been objected to until now. Upon the surface of the liquid that has far too odd of a colour to be water, ripples move inward to a central point. The waves gradually intensify and rise higher the more central they become, like the ripples from a drop of water. Only… time is going backwards.

The ripples finally reach their central point, and an unbelievable spike of pink liquid spears out from the sky and shears through the green cloud cover below to reveal the pitch blackness I could never forget. It is only visible for a moment before the shrouding green clouds close in, but there is no doubt in my mind.

That was the Void Fog.

It is only in sight for a moment, but it is enough to send chills through my body. The absolute absence of light hides beneath swathes of clouds that rise and fall like mountains that bubble, shatter and cut through each other with force unimaginable for something that appears as it does.

In the air between the sky-ocean and the green flowing fields, the formless shapes I was seeing before are finally clear… but they remain formless. It’s not so much that I can’t get a good look at them as was the case earlier, but rather they don’t have a form… or at least not something comprehensible to my eyes.

None of the creatures — if they even are creatures — have an actively changing body, and yet from moment to moment, they appear different. It is impossible to tell if they are fish climbing invisible rocks, artillery shells sprinting through water, or rabbits falling sideways. Despite everything, it is impossible to determine whether they are truly living beings and not curious phenomena common to that world.

This alien world clearly doesn’t follow the same rules as ours, and yet there is order amongst the chaos. The creatures are both impossible to follow or understand, but they are each identical in their incomprehensibility. The ocean and clouds seem impossible, and yet they remain consistent to the end of a horizon that doesn’t end.

By the time I shut my loose jaw, the flowing green energy returns, only this time the intelligence behind the motion is clear. I freeze on instinct, and yet I don’t feel even the hint of presence. The haze quickly enshrouds our view of the other world again, but the chill assaulting my body does nothing but amplify. My flames flicker rapidly beneath my controlled form, threatening to explode out despite my command.

The clouds stop. Its colour dims, but this is no time to feel relief. A ring of blazing green, far more intense than anything I thought possible, appears in the mist. Even against the backdrop of the same colour, this glow stands out with the vividness of the Eternal Inferno.

An eye.

An eye is looking at us from the other world. It is not a one-way window.

The eye swivels along the wall and I can’t breathe. Whatever this being is, it is watching me. A titanic being watches me, and I somehow know it is mad. I want to look away, avert my gaze and hope that will be enough to calm it, but I can’t move.

The control cube within the control panel shatters, and the metal shrapnel striking my face finally snaps me away from the death stare with a being from another world.

Belatedly, I hear screaming. I tear my hand from the control sphere and run over to the others. The same corrupting green glow that infected Śuri’s flames now climbs up each of their legs. Śuri and Yalun are quick to react, the former cutting off his feet and holding himself aloft with physical flames, while the latter disconnects naturally from the corrupted flame and rapidly transforms into her eagle form.

The other two are not so lucky. The infecting influence climbs their legs without opposition, tainting them viridescent. Leal’s panicked shouts fill the air as she tries anything she can to stop it from climbing. Water pounds at her leg with such ferocity that the fur along her ankle is sheared clear off and leaves her bare skin raw.

Grímr doesn’t feel the pain, nor does he have any reasonable way to stop the spread, but his insistent scratching at his talons along with the strengthening inscription locking into place shows his desperation. Unfortunately, not even the inscription that allowed him to stand up to the decay power of a Viisin can hold back the corrupting energy. The spread doesn’t even slow.

The sight of my friends being hurt is horrifying. I want to help them, but what can I do? I can’t lift either of them with my flames alone, both are too heavy for that.

Thankfully, Grímr still has enough awareness to lift Leal. He picks her up in his beak and drops her on his back, away from the green metal along the ground. With Leal no longer touching the corrupting influence, I only need to worry about helping Grímr.

At least, that’s my thought until the infection in Leal’s feet continues to spread despite being away from the source.

Yalun and Śuri are quicker than me to provide assistance, but any time their flames touch the green corruption, they become altered and the grand elders have to abandon them before they can spread.

The obscuring mist in the metal no longer remains motionless, or calm as it was on our journey through the island. It rages around us with such turmoil that I’m surprised the metal doesn’t warp under the strength it expresses. The being’s eye burns steady amidst the rapids, searing itself into my consciousness.

“We’re leaving now!” Śuri commands and nobody argues.

Despite my own feet touching the window into the other world, it doesn’t infect me. It can’t. I can feel it try, but it simply cannot breach my flames.

As we rush down the stairs, I envelop Grímr’s legs and wings in fire to block the corruption. It stops it from spreading any time he scrapes an untouched part of his metal body against the walls on our scramble back to the bridge, but it has no effect on his already infected talons.

Energy rages around us, and the eye never stops following. It’s hard to imagine we’re still surrounded by metal. With how deeply everything is permeated by the corrupting influence, we might as well be in a glass box within the eye of a nightmarish storm.

A storm with a literal eye following our every move.

As we rush into the bridge, Grímr turns to head down the rest of the tower, but Śuri redirects him.

“No, out through the glass. Solvei.” He spreads his flame toward me. “I need you to share your energy.”

I don’t hesitate to accept the Kindling, even if I’m not sure what he’s talking about. How can I share my energy?

Leal is grasping at her ankles as she hisses in obvious pain. The action does not slow the spread, it only allows the corruption to gain a hold on her hands. I hate watching her in pain, but I don’t know what I can do to stop it. I don’t know how to help her.

Śuri crashes beside Leal and starts amassing flames around himself, both mine and his. It isn’t true control over my fire, but with the far greater control he has, there is an intense amount of power building up behind us.

“Grímr, focus on flying,” He snaps. “Yalun, Solvei, heat management.”

Before I can climb on Grímr’s back myself, a strand of physical flame rips me off my feet and slams me beside him instantly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the same happen with Yalun.

We bundle together just in time for an explosion to flatten us against Grímr’s feathers. The eruption of power doesn’t let up, and the heat that follows along with my own energy draining to power an unbelievably strong jet of physical flames behind us lets me know this is Śuri’s effort.

Grímr isn’t ready for the ignition and crashes into the first two rows of control panels, crushing them without resistance. Thankfully, his wings snap wide by the third row and immediately gains some control over the obscene thrust.

If not for my flames already covering every feather, he would have just invited more corruption by slamming into those consoles. It’s a minor victory that doesn’t make up for what they’ve already suffered at my fault, but I’ll take it. I won’t let it grab any more of a hold than it already has.

The moment we shatter through the glass, I discover why Śuri decided it was so important to rush; not only does the metallic wall close behind us, but another, thicker one begins its descent ahead of us. Not only that, but the chamber between both walls now floods with pressurised water rushing in from both sides.

All this happens, and the searing green eye still watches with oppressive intent.