Young Flame

Yalun pulled back as the green flames ripped across the island’s surface. Soon, no part of the widespread inferno was left unaffected. Their combined blaze — reaching through the haze and out of sight — taken from them.

Mirri was almost too late to separate himself from the corruptive influence as it shot up the jet of fire holding him aloft. A second later and he would have been overcome.

Despite the green flames now falling under the purview of the Anatla, they still sizzled away at the metallic surface. It would have been great, if not for those very flames moving away from the glowing inscription.

Those altered flames were strange. More than just their colour, they didn’t burn like any normal fire. Despite the emitted heat being identical to the near black flames they took from, the downpour of water didn’t burst into steam as it fell. No, each droplet fell right into the corrupted flames without evaporating. Water, against everything she knew, seemed to feed these flames. They crackled and grew with each of the million droplets that fell.

“So what now?” Iri asked as the four regrouped.

Yalun kept her distance, watching over them from above. She couldn’t really assist them in this battle beyond being a form of rapid disengagement for any that couldn’t continue.

“Stagger burst,” Śuri says. “We’ll be wasting a lot of energy, but we expected as much coming into this. Don’t let it climb.”

They spread out to continue their attempts at burning away the Anatla’s inscription, their flames bursting out from their bodies on and off with each wave of their blaze slamming against the metal and quickly being introduced to the mass of green flames that burnt out far faster than any áed’s flames would.

It was a relief to see that the altered flames actually had some weakness. Every áed were one with their flames; that there was a being that could tear away that connection… well, it incited a terrible fear and stabbed at their pride. It was no better that these green flames appeared immune to their greatest weakness, but if they burnt out in seconds, then there was no point in such a benefit.

The integrity of the island’s metallic shielding dropped by the second. It was collapsing. Everywhere except the lines that linked the Anatla to this world, sections of metal shattered under the pressure of the water held within. As the siege continued, more and more geysers of water exploded through the air. Each stream was only made more dangerous by the freezing energy they carried, dragged out from whatever system had held back their impossible heat for so long.

Yalun watched on as a rather large section of the metal surface buckled. She screamed at Iri, who was too busy burning away at the inscription that refused to melt, but it was too late. A thick geyser engulfed the áed.

Yalun barely heard the frightened cries of Ildri as she shot toward the man. Consumed wholly by the stream, he’d been flung high through the air. Direct contact between a grand elder with so much heat in his body and a massive stream of water kicked up so much steam that it was now hard to see mere metres ahead of her, but she pushed forward, a portion of her limited energy consumed to push herself faster.

She curved around the new liquid pillar and snatched the áed in her oversized talons. Iri’s exterior looked like coal and felt much the same. He was unresponsive, but when she pumped her own flames through his body, she was relieved to find him still burning strong.

“How is he?” Ildri shot up by her side.

“He’s alive.”

“Ildri, worry later. We can’t stop,” Śuri shouted through the roaring winds and flames. “Yalun, take him away.”

She hardly had to wait for his say so. Yalun rocketed east, holding him close beneath her chest and away from the rain to stop his wounds getting worse. She doubted she succeeded much, considering the sheer humidity of the air, but it was something.

Within a minute of flight, the rest of their support came into sight. With a relieved sigh, she raced past the leaders with the most energy and control, and found the laggers. The ones at the back of the pack were the least likely to add much to the offence, so she dumped Iri on whoever she could before flicking her wings and speeding back to the Island.

She swore she even saw Iri stirring as he roughly transferred arms.

It wasn’t nice to think of one of her comrades as less than beneficial, but Yalun knew she was faster than any besides those with the most energy to waste. She needed to get back in case any others fell. Whether the áed would be annoyed at her for being removed from the fight before he could even enter it, she didn’t wait around to find out.

The air became even more dangerous around the Island as there was less space to move around. By the time she caught up, their support was preparing for a massive assault, pooling their energy together in a dense, flaming hurricane.

With the focus of a dozen áed and the sheer power of the black flame only a few of their number can create, nothing could survive such an attack. She was sure this much energy could rip away the Agni mountains without leaving a trace of their existence. A conflagration of incomparable danger.

Apparently, the Anatla thought the same.

The giant green eye — fractured by the damaged surface — which had been observing the assault with detachment until now, narrowed its eye. The ring of eerie green shrunk a hundred metres and focused solely on them. Yalun suppressed a shudder and forced her eyes to the three she’d left alone. Thankfully, each were fine. They continued their bursts upon the inscription below, but it didn’t look like there had been any progress.

Every part of the inscription glowed with the solid green ethereal corruption. The metal it was painted upon appeared undamaged. Nothing around those lines was unaffected, though. So much shielding had melted now that there were more geysers than metal. Water filled the air, forcing each áed to navigate what amounted to a labyrinth in the shape of the very inscription they were trying to destroy.

Was it ironic that the source of their troubles was also the only thing giving them an opportunity? Yalun tried to find amusement in the situation, but that eye that seemed to see right through her very being unnerved her too much to laugh, even if she forced it.

They’d already burnt through so much of the island. If this attack didn’t destroy the inscription itself, did that matter? If enough of the structure was damaged, surely that would stop it from functioning.

As one, the collective grand elders shot the dense storm of fire down at the inscription; right at the centre of the eerie eye. They were wise enough not to keep themselves connected to the flames. Once it touched the surface, the corruption would surely spread through it, but that didn’t matter if it could destroy everything in its way before the Anatla could direct it away.

Yalun saw the burst of a geyser rise beneath the mass of flames long before it hit, but she paid it no mind. Against this much energy, it would surely do nothing but vaporise. That was what she thought, until something completely unexpected happened.

The green flames rushed up the geyser, burning through water like oil.

Yalun wasn’t the only one to notice. Many of those with their control focused on condensing the flames reacted. They tried to pull their fiery storm away from the geyser as it rocketed down to the surface, but it was too little too late. The flaming green geyser ripped through their blaze and instantaneously, control ripped from them.

So much energy, as compressed as it was, exploded outward. The new arrivals scattered, but the flames spread everywhere. A few of the more experienced shielded the lot with flaming walls, but even with that, the corruptive influence fell amongst many of them.

They all knew what to do should they be affected, but to watch half a dozen áed discard parts of their bodies to stop the spread was still difficult to watch. With their binding as low as it was, it would still take them time to regenerate.

The massive eye of the Anatla flickered around, individually watching each of those it almost consumed as if disappointed.

Yalun really didn’t want to imagine what it might do if it stole the very being of an áed from them. Such a fate could only be worse than death.

The green flames burnt outwards, eating through the storm as far as she could see. Those flames burnt out quick, leaving the horizon visible once again along with a burning sea. It was enough for her to catch sight of an unimaginable figure rising from the ocean on the southern horizon. The whirlpool from before was terrifying, but to see the mighty creature that never rose above the waves reaching the sky while still half submerged was beyond anything she could believe.

It looked like a worm, but even comparing it to a colossal worm couldn’t possibly do it justice. A thousand teeth poked out from its head and along the top half of its body. If it had so many teeth on the outside, she hesitated to imagine the maw that bit at the sky.

And the damn creature actually bit a part of the sky. Some of the sky appeared like night, except it was growing outward like a rotten infection… and the Titan took a bite out of it, returning the sky to normal. There was an obvious bite mark just sitting in the air.

Further down its body, Charybdis had countless limbs that she couldn’t discern whether they were blades, tentacles or fins. They were long and seemed to move almost individually.

Yalun had seen Cipactlteteo as it climbed the Titan Alps — she doubted there was anyone who hadn’t — but from so far away, even the Titan seemed small. This time, the Titan was beyond the horizon, yet she couldn’t think the same.

It was massive.

Water flooded off the creature. She’d thought it just carried much of the ocean with it when it rose into the air, but the longer she watched, the more it was obvious the beast gushed out water like the island beneath her.

The green eye bound to the island no longer paid them any attention. Its gaze was entirely focused on the Titan now. She would think that was a good thing, as they could continue their attack while it was distracted… but the unmitigated hatred and rage it directed toward Charybdis held not only her hand, but that of every other áed.

She suddenly felt small. Tiny and inconsequential. They were nothing but pests before these beings. Even their best attempts hadn’t made it much more than annoyed. As she watched the eye glare with a deep hatred she didn’t think she could ever comprehend, a feeling of pointlessness overcame her. Was there any point fighting such an unwinnable battle?

What made that thought worse, was that the green flames had spread. Now every geyser was simply fuel for massive blasts of fire burning into the sky.

A deep groan, almost like a whistle, threatened to rip apart her form as it rumbled through her body. She wasn’t the only one affected. Some of the áed below her lost control of their fire jets momentarily, dropping them dangerously close to the corruption of the island.

Yalun’s head flicked back to the Titan to the south. It seems the Anatla wasn’t the only one with a deep, unwavering hatred. Charybdis had no eyes, but the gnashing of its million teeth — now that she could see its maw, she wished she hadn’t — and the single-minded charge left no doubt. A charge headed right for them.

“We are leaving.” Śuri’s words barely register through the deafening, hate-filled call of the Titan.

“No. We are so close to destroying it,” Mirri snaps. “If we don’t do it now, when will we? Do you want to doom our people?”

“Look around, you fool.” Śuri gestures to the burning geysers and approaching Titan. “We have failed. You can get yourself killed if you want, but I’m not about to leave the tribes unguarded against the eastern races. We don’t have a choice but to abandon our wastelands now.”

This was the first time Yalun had seen the old áed actually appear defeated. He was angry and didn’t care to hide it. She felt much the same; against such forces as they were up against, there wasn’t anything they could do, but to see Śuri consider their situation the same really scorched home the hopelessness of the situation.

Śuri had been a grand elder even when she was a child. He’d always been the one to stand as a rock for her and so many others. As she looked around, she could see many having the same thoughts as her. Soon, they were all retreating. With the Titan coming in fast, they couldn’t delay. Some hesitated, wanting to continue whatever attempt they could to save the home they’d always known, but with the only way to damage the inscription anymore being to weave through a labyrinth that will consume them the moment a single flicker of green fire leaps out from the geysers, even they gave up and fled with the rest.

Yalun picked up a few of the áed that had to discard the most of their bodies to avoid the corruption. One of them was little more than a head and torso. She didn’t envy the pain they must have experienced, but she respected the dedication required to do such an action.

As they flew away, she tried her best not to think about their failure. Hraun hadn’t reignited his fires along the southern horizon, so she didn’t want to think about his state. She could only hope he was still alive.

Charybdis dropped beneath the waves again, but the whirlpool that took its place raced toward them with terrifying speed. It was coming for the Anatla, but it was still a nerve-racking sight.

A sudden slither of hope rose within her as she watched the Titan rush toward the Island. Could that being destroy it for them?

But the piercing green eye of the Anatla watched the approaching Titan with contempt. The green flames extinguished across the island, returning it to its constant output of water both into the air and through the ocean.

As soon as the whirlpool that hid the titan crashed into the intense stream of water a few kilometres from the island, it spewed forth an immense blast of seawater through the air. With how much liquid was sent skyward, it appeared almost like the Titan crashed against a wall it couldn’t cross. A thought that was unfortunately proven as the whirlpool no longer moved toward the island.

With all that water in the air again, the storm soon returned. Yalun swore it was stronger than before.

There was nothing they could do anymore. Their entire race would either have to move up the Titan Alps or travel into the eastern lands. Both had their dangers. Both could never provide the same protection as the wasteland had for millennia. Every option they had was just as bad as the other.

Her mind returned to that one plan she’d had. She’d discarded it as an option she never wanted to consider. She didn’t want to be the one to ask such a thing, especially when all she had was theories, but nothing else they had would work.

Yalun was terrified of what might happen, but it was about time to find out what happened upon reaching the threshold.