Young Flame

Śuri’s presence control education was not what I expected. When Yalun said I needed to control my pressure better — or at least I would as I grow — I pictured the unique application Tore showed off in our battle against Kalma. My thoughts couldn’t have been further than the truth.

The grand elder’s lessons have been, well, boring. Simplistic exercises of rapidly expanding my presence, then suppressing it in the same motion are pretty much the limit to his guidance once I learnt to focus the direction. It makes me question why Yalun couldn’t have taught me this herself.

My main issue with my presence is that the grand elders expect it to explode in strength in the next few years. Apparently, it takes time for someone’s pressure to follow their strength. The whole concept of presence is strange. At first glance, it is nothing more than an enhanced application of instinct, or maybe a way to influence other’s instincts, but that didn’t explain how Tore could use it to strengthen his weapon.

I can do as much guessing as I want — did he do it by freezing the instinct of metal itself, or more along the lines of a physical attunement? — but none of my endless thoughts will help me improve the basics. So, despite it not giving any visible improvement for now, I continue to squeeze and stretch what presence I have.

The Agglomerate finally comes into sight after our days of flight. It glistens wonderfully in the morning light and I find myself excited to see Enya and Cyrus again, despite my lingering judgement.

We won’t see Yalun for a while. I’d thought she was flying back to the Agglomerate ahead of us, but it was soon revealed that she was travelling to a few landmarks where eagles under her command take a semi-permanent residence across the desert as a form of rapid communication for tribes that don’t have an assigned eagle.

Yalun flew between a few of these locations to put them on observation. I have to pity them somewhat. It is unlikely any of them have enough heat to protect them from water, and they’ve been sent to the ocean. The place all áed fear more than any other.

Belatedly, I realise I’ve recently spent days above an ocean with only an island corrupted by some otherworldly terror to land upon. After a while, the fear of the ocean yielded to the uncomfortable feeling of water rolling down the back of my snowsuit… and the horror of the Anatla. Regardless of the cause of it, I faced the ocean — an áed’s greatest fear — and came back with it having been the least terrifying part of the journey.

I can stand against our greatest natural enemy and come out on top.

Well, that’s only if I don’t remove the restriction of being as far from the water as possible, but that’s besides the point.

So I sit here, expanding and shrinking the influence of my presence while being careful not to affect Leal. Grímr carries us to the glass dome of my homeland and Leal, as always, is buried within her notes and testing equipment. Really, I know Grímr’s flight is smooth — a lot better than it used to be — but isn’t she worried that her stuff will fly off in the winds? The amount of times I’ve had to catch a jar of marking ink or some sort of flask is not insignificant.

Sure, she can rely on me to catch them, but she shouldn’t look at me with such a disappointed expression when the liquids spill out. Not much I can do about that.

Fortunately, our return trip has been much faster. With Grímr’s inscription and my flames, we almost halved our travel time. If not for our necessary stop during the Ember Moon, we could have been even faster.

The packed bags along Grímr’s chest mean we don’t have to hold back with our rapid return. Of course we would scavenge as much metal from the cubes as we could. If Śuri had opposed the excessive use of energy on both our parts, then we wouldn’t have done it, but he was the most impatient of us. It’s not like we won’t have leftovers to share.

With Śuri’s control over physical flames, he could probably bring some of the metal back and remain net positive in terms of energy consumed versus the amount of steel returned for the tribes. The issue with that is the cubes are not an infinite resource. There is a lot, sure, but Śuri would be wasting a good portion of it simply to carry it back.

In my opinion, the best alternative would be to invite the other races over to collect the resources with their ships and trade for it. My time in New Vetus made it clear how beneficial our fires can be to their machinery and inscription infrastructure. Henosis is the extreme example; they hunted us down for the benefit we could bring them. So it isn’t like we don’t have anything the other nations want.

It would be incredibly easy to set up some trade network. Even if we ignore the ancient cubes, the resources of each other country could be indisputably beneficial to the prosperity of áed.

But we are isolationists at our core.

None of the other nations, or groups of people I’ve met, have kept to themselves as much as áed. Even the Agglomerate, our only city, has but a few áed residing there permanently. We may stick together in tribes, but for any except the strongest, survival on their own is impossible.

Would the grand elders, the áed who remain alone more than any others, ever agree to work alongside another race?

In the time since I’ve returned, I’ve noticed an almost unnatural trust between áed that isn’t shared for those of the other races. After being exposed to the hatred, distrust and lack of regard many of those in the eastern nations have even for their own kind, it seems unnatural. Despite having already commit taboo, Yalun, Śuri and Odqan were quick to take me in, which is not something I could see happen in the pact nations. I mean, I’m out here in the first place because I’m wanted for a crime most don’t even believe I commit.

Grímr and Leal have been treated well, particularly because of the help they’ve provided, but both are considered more of a curiosity. A visitor that will leave soon enough. I don’t think there is a single áed that has considered the possibility of either wanting to stay. Such a thing is unlikely, simply because of the uncomfortable heat, but should either request as such, I’m not even sure the grand elders I know would agree.

The taboo preventing travel beyond the wasteland is nothing but a reflection of that distrust. There are two ways to view it: the restriction is in place to prevent áed being hurt, or it is there to stop the races from realising we exist, and have the strength to be a threat.

The first might be alluding to the weather in most cases, but my snowsuit is proof that can be overcome without the excessive strength of the elders. No, that interpretation points to the taboo being a shield against the other races. It is an assumption that we will be in danger from any we meet. If we didn’t have absolute confidence in our martial dominance over any guests to the Agglomerate, then I doubt we would even allow them to visit.

The second view leads me to believe the Grand Elders consider it impossible for the other nations to not come at us with military might should they realise our strength. I’ve seen plenty of coordination between races in the pact nations, but such cooperation is impossible for us with any others, at least in my elders’ eyes.

In a way, their efforts to prevent the other races from knowing we exist have been effective; only the ursu residing besides the wasteland considered the áed common knowledge. It was rare to find anyone in the other countries that knew what I was. And yet, that didn’t stop Henosis from knowing almost everything about us, despite being on the other side of the continent.

“Odqan!” Śuri leaps off Grímr as soon as we land near the first glass pillar. “How many of the Grand Elders have gathered?”

Odqan, to his credit, follows in stride with Śuri without a moment of delay. Both heading into the heart of the Agglomerate. “Eight, not including us. There are a few waiting up the Alps.”

“Good enough. Send someone to call them down. I’m pushing the conference forward. We’re meeting in four days.”

It is daylight, so Grímr and Leal are hesitant to follow the grand elders inside. “I’ll be back soon,” I say and rush to catch up to the two as they pace toward the central mountain.

Immediately, I notice the number of tribes in the Agglomerate has tripled in the few weeks we’ve been gone. The first gathering we pass is actually bustling with activity. So much so that it actually looks like a small city, rather than a village in terms of populous.

“Has something happened?” Odqan asks.

“My efforts have backfired. The western ocean is encroaching on our deserts rapidly.”

Odqan hesitates before asking, “How bad is it?”

“Our initial observations place it at a hundred metres an hour, but we think it is accelerating.”

Odqan looks like he wants to swear, but stifles his complaints and dashes off without another word.

I jog to Śuri’s side. The áed has a single-minded focus on striding forward, not casting even a glance to any of the áed around. He’s not running, but to my shorter legs, it might as well be. A very slight adjustment to the length of my legs lets me walk beside him with less issue, and the visible flames also are covered by my snowsuit. It might be cheating slightly, but it stops me from needing to completely change or run to keep up with him.

The outfit unfortunately doesn’t grow with me, so I can’t grow much. Maybe I should ask Yalun if it’s possible for one of our patterns to allow slight changes without it wholly becoming part of my fire?

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“To the forge.” Śuri says, not even glancing my way. “I need to talk to Hraun. You are welcome to follow, but the heat will be too much for you.”

That’s a challenge if I’ve ever heard one.

I mimic my Grand Elder and we pace into the glass tunnel of the mountain in silence. Unlike Yalun’s upper entrance, this one doesn’t require you to fly. The difference is that it is obscenely hot. We only just walked through the entrance, and the air is already as hot as my white flames.

There are a few large chambers on either side of the entrance tunnel. Together, they are wide enough to fit every áed currently in the Agglomerate, with room to spare. Beyond those large rooms, the tunnel splits. One travels upward, likely heading toward Yalun’s chambers. The other, which Śuri walks down, brings us deeper into the earth.

Through the glass below my feet, I can see the strong burning glow shining up from about as deep as the top of the Agglomerate is high.

More chambers are hidden away on each level, but become smaller and less common the further we go. Śuri really wasn’t joking about the heat. Not even halfway down, and I’m sure we are deep into the heat of blue flames. It’s far beyond what I can achieve and it is becoming difficult to hold myself together.

The intense heat invites my form to break down. It wants me to let go of my flames and allow them to be visible to the world. With each step, I don’t believe it could get worse, but it does. I find my fingers losing their smooth shape after the slightest lack of concentration. The heat is not yet unbearable, but it is rapidly exceeding a blanketing comfort and approaches painful.

I’ve never truly felt something too hot, but this is definitely it. Is this what fleshy creatures feel when they are burned? Hmm… probably not. This stings, an ache thrumming through my being, but it feels more overwhelming than anything. Like I can push through it if I try. I clench my fists and snap my form rigid. I am going to push through this and prove I can do it.

As soon as I motivate myself, I feel it. My snowsuit begins to burn. My entire body bursts into fire. I’d lost my concentration and the immense heat drowned my control. My intention was only to save my outfit by transforming it into flames, but that was too much of a distraction.

It’s incredible that my snowsuit couldn’t handle the heat despite my efforts to protect it, combined with the thermal protection inscribed into it. Faced with losing it, I sacrificed my control. My outfit safe, while flames burst out across my body.

“This is as far as you go,” Śuri says.

“What? No. I can still go further.”

“You have lost control,” is all he says, but it is enough to make me look away in embarrassment.

I wanted to meet this Hraun. I wanted to push myself, but as I look down, I realise we are still a long way from the deep glow. There is no way I’m reaching it. But even if I cannot reach it, I’m close enough to feel it through my thermal sense, and while the heat is immeasurable, which is not unexpected, the fact that it isn’t fire is.

The bright white glow is plasma, but this is far beyond the strength of the explosion within the cube. I’m close enough to spread my influence over it might it have been fire, but the feeling of it makes me scared to even try. Not that I would be successful. I couldn’t influence plasma the last time I tried. This won’t be different.

Reluctantly, I slow to a stop, my legs returning to a normal length. Śuri continues downward until it’s hard to spot him through the glass against the bright plasma. I’m curious about this forge down below, but the intense heat of the plasma blinds even my heat sense.

It’s disappointing, but I won’t be able to continue much further. Not only does my fire find it more comfortable to spread out into the surroundings that stay whole, but the scorching air actually hurts. Maybe one day I’ll descend to the forge, but not today.

I turn back. Since I’ve already lost control of my form, I don’t hesitate to morph into a bird and fly out.

The conference is soon. Soon, I will find out my future. Whether I’ll be pardoned… or punished, I’m prepared to do whatever I need. Let’s just hope they don’t try to imprison me; I’d rather not cut ties with all other áed.