Young Flame

“What is it like?” Yalun asks.

That is a question I wish I could answer. In a way, I am no different to a day ago, but at the same time, I feel so intricately separate from that áed I was. It’s not like the filling feeling of having more energy within you, nor the satisfaction and confidence of being able to control fire in increasingly complex ways.

No, this change is both subtle and tremendous.

Imagine the opening of eyelids you never knew were closed. Sights and senses enter my mind I never thought possible… and despite their uniqueness, they give little more information than what I could already see. Only the Eternal Inferno appears visibly different, burning at least twice as bright as before.

Though, that might be because of the changes I made to my eyes.

Having been separated from the limitations of a body, and subsequently rebuilt that form, many aspects I’d never thought to consider are now bare to my sight. Our áed bodies are a lot closer to those of fleshy creatures than we ever thought. We do not share the muscles, bones, blood, or many other parts they need to function, but our senses — with the exception of thermal and touch — are imitations.

I’m not proud to admit as such, but I’ve burnt through enough eyes to notice the similarity now that I have self-awareness of my own body. Altering how they work to mimic some of the more impressive eyes I’ve come across was almost too easy.

That our senses come from imitation organs raises some rather interesting questions about the origins of áed. Did we start with only our thermal sense and touch before adopting the other senses from albanics? I’m not sure what to think of the idea that my kind took so much influence from any fleshy race, but it is the best explanation.

Ignoring the freezing cold air, my incandescent flames spread out and solidify into wings wider than I’ve ever made. We aren’t moving down the mountain too quickly, considering the danger that lay in every corner, so I take the opportunity to flex my new state of being.

“Indescribable,” I finally say to Yalun’s question. Before she complains about my lack of satisfying answer, I continue. “It’s like the first time flying: so many opportunities are now open. So many restraints lifted. It is incredibly freeing.” It is too difficult to explain to her, so I give her an example of an experience we likely share.

Eyesight shouldn’t be the only sense organ I can replicate and improve, but I want to leave that type of experimentation for later. After all, the near gifted understanding of physical characteristics isn’t the best part of my change.

My wings break up into a storm of fire. Unable to cut through air without those solid limbs, I slow down. I can still spread rather quickly, especially when I burn along the surface, but it doesn’t come close to my flight speed.

Despite the obvious detriment, I don’t change back, too caught up in the freedom of becoming my firestorm. Before, I could pull my inner flame along with me while flying. Now? Well, I could just create a body and do the same, but it would be more like pulling myself along.

It is almost unsettling that while my inner flame doesn’t spread any faster than it used to, nor is it any hotter, it still feels incredibly superior, simply because my mind permeates it so perfectly. Almost. I’m too comfortable in this new state to ever regret the attempt… even if it scared Yalun.

We are in a hurry to get across the desert, but until we reach the border between the Middle and Lower Elevations, Yalun needs to stay beside Kiko. The creatures around here are simply too strong for her to deal with. I could probably have taken his place and watched over her, but resisting the urge to explore my new form is impossible. Yalun understands that… almost more than me.

Like back up in the Agglomerate, her flames spread through mine, exploring the changes with excitement that would make you think she’s the one who reached the threshold. I wonder how much of this she feels through the connection?

Unfortunately, my enjoyment and exploration soon ends. Well, at least my time exploring how it feels not to have any physicality at all. The border is near, and we’ll have to bid Kiko farewell. I won’t be able to avoid having a body with the speed we’ll need.

The border between the Middle and Lower Elevation is freezing. It gets so cold, I’d compare it to the chill given off by that inner circle mercenary back in the war. Unlike the crevasse at the end of the Steppes, this border is only visible by a slight fog and the difference in mountain types between regions.

The danger is all but invisible from a distance.

What appears to be a fog from afar couldn’t be anything more different. As we get closer, it seems to become a forest of mirrors. In places where I should be able to see the ground, the sky is reflected, and conversely, the air sometimes shows the rock of earth. But even calling it a mirror maze would be wrong. Sure, in some parts I can see my own flames reflected back at me, but I can feel the heat too, something impossible with reflections alone.

It’s strange from a distance, but as we enter the half-dozen kilometre thick border, our senses are essentially thrown into disarray. What was behind us, no longer is behind us, nor is forward straight. Oddly enough, despite this confusing labyrinth twisting space around us, it isn’t the first, nor the most warped of places I’ve been.

The bottom of Kalma’s pit experienced worse spatial fluctuations by far. There, only a step or two would send you hundreds of metres away. At least here, it only twisted the direction you faced and none of the portals seemed to link more than a couple metres at a time. Such space is difficult to traverse, sure, but with our flames spread out around us, it was rather easy to keep track of our direction despite the confusing sight.

The danger of this space lies not in how it tears away all sense of direction — which would likely be much more debilitating on anyone unable to expand their senses — but rather the creatures that consider this forest of portals their home.

Before any of us can react, a small creature appears behind Yalun, snapping its jaw closed on her neck. Her neck flames warp. Yalun twists, unharmed, slashing one of her relic knives along the creature’s side. The second blade misses the mark as the dingo-like creature that doesn’t even reach knee tall teleports away.

My flames rocket after it through the portal it escaped through, but I’m too slow to reach it.

Growled giggles echo around us as hundreds of long-necked dogs surround us. Blekkenge, or delusion hyena, according to Kiko. These creatures can somehow see through the portals and know exactly how to remain hidden from our sight, at least until they wanted to scare us with their numbers.

Unfortunately for these hyenas, I’ve seen them pull off this trick before. While it may look like over a hundred of them are surrounding us, there should be only a dozen, each standing in just the right spot to multiply their appearance to us. But even with numbers, they still pose no problem.

Both Yalun and Kiko prepare their relics to hunt them down, but this is a perfect opportunity to flex my new form. Before either can move, I spread my fire a few hundred metres to cover each of the creatures hiding nearby. I have to sacrifice my white flame to yellow to spread so wide, but it isn’t the heat of my fire I intend to play with.

As I slide over the hyena’s bushy fur coats, they each panic, squealing their barking laughs as they dash through more portals to escape. They try to run, realising they’ve taken on far more than they can chew — a surprising level of awareness for the creatures of these Alps — but I am everywhere, waiting for them.

My flames solidify around them, like large hands holding them still. They would have easily broken from the grasp of my fire previously, what with the solidity of my fire not being this strong, but I can now hold them as if I was grasping them with my old body.

I can’t add too much weight to each grasping hand, as the more volume of fire that becomes physical the more I have to distribute the weight, but it easily enough to hold these small hyenas still. With each of them unable to resist, I move my spear through my body, crossing the weapon from one side to the other and motioning to stab the beasts, but not actually going through with the kill.

There is no benefit to actually taking the life of these dingo-like creatures. Despite living so far up the Alps, they have a similar amount of energy as those in the Steppes, if not less. It’s not like we’re going to use their furs, so they are lucky I’m willing to let them go. They are no danger.

But the chill seeping down from above is.

“Spectre!” I shout to the two behind… within me and immediately spread myself as far as I can while pulling away from the rapidly cooling air.

Acknowledging my warning, they both latch onto my fire and let me guide them the rest of the way. I may not feel the full way through this border region, but I grasp our direction. Well, Kiko should be able to do the same, but he’s being annoyingly persistent about hiding his capacity. Not that I’m all too surprised.

Spectres are the only genuine danger in the border between Middle and Lower Elevation. While they may be alone in their threat, none of us dare treat them with anything but our full attention. I’m not sure exactly what they are, but like that frost mage mercenary, the air itself slows in its presence. Kiko has shoved their danger so deep in my head that I know I won’t have a chance despite my new form.

It is slow, but each metre it lowers, heat rips away from me faster. I try to lower my flames to only burn along the surface, but that will only delay the chill for a short time. We need to get out before it can come close.

Eyes form all across my flames — the mimicked organs indistinguishable from the fire that surround them — and I try to get a look at the creature more dangerous than all residents of the Middle Elevation combined. The numerous new sights flush my mind with pain, and I quickly reduce the number to something more manageable.

It is almost impossible to spot through the warped space, but occasionally, I glance the creature. Or, at least, I spot where the air crystallises around it. Ice drops from the creature like rain from a fierce thunderstorm, only this is not frozen water. Each shard of frozen air liquefies the moment it touches anything, bubbling as it slides down the mountain slope.

I tear my flames away from the ground to avoid the boiling river. A single touch of that liquid is agony worse than water, sucking out so much more energy from my body. The spectre is so much closer this time than when Kiko and I climbed. It’s concerning how cold it’s getting.

“Is this ranked water?” I ask. I know it isn’t normal water from that slightest touch before I tore away my flames.

“No. Ranked water is worse,” Kiko shouts as the edge of my flames finally breach the end of this border region.

Well, damn. I’d hate to be doused in ranked water if it gets worse than this. If not for my flames guiding us through the twists and turns of space, I’d jump back in my snowsuit to hide from the cold. Yalun is kind enough to flood my flames with her heat, which I can’t help but be thankful for, but it doesn’t reach the ends of my fire.

The spectre is slow, or maybe it isn’t chasing us. Either way, we quickly leave the area frozen by its descent. Spectres are one of the few creatures Kiko refuses to fight. And I can see why: the creature is more dangerous than even a Beith water mage. Maybe more-so than that inner circle mage.

Soon, we’re free of the spatial labyrinth and the spectre’s creeping chill. The things are dangerous, but only if you cannot find your way out in time. As áed, we have a rather convenient method to bypass the confusion of the twisting space, but I have to wonder — like I have many times before — how my team and most other mercenaries would deal with it.

Despite having escaped the intense cold, I still feel it aching through my flames. In a moment, I’ve curled myself up into my old body and hide away in the insulation of my snowsuit. There’s not even an instant delay between the transformation anymore. I mean, I’d gotten pretty quick, but it still took me a second or so to change my form. Now, that doesn’t exist. I just become the form I want as long as my fire already covers the space I want to take shape.

Though by Yalun’s own hurried transformation into her eagle form, it looks like I won’t stay in my old form for long. She’s obviously eager to get moving.

“Kiko, it’s been great. Thanks for all your help, but it might be a while before we meet again,” I say, smiling. If we succeed, then I don’t plan to come back up these Alps any time soon. And if I fail… well, we’ll have some more problems than our next meeting.

“Knowing you, ‘a while’ might not be all that long.” He shakes his head. “Besides, I’ll be following you both, if not as quickly.”

“You’re coming down the mountains?” Yalun asks, shocked. Kiko is a hermit that hasn’t left the Titan Alps for centuries, so I guess it is surprising. I wonder if he’s going to show his strength now that it isn’t taboo to increase capacity? Hmm… doubtful. He would’ve told Yalun if that is what he intends.

“Of course,” he scoffs, as if insulted. “You lot have made enough of a mess down there. I might as well make sure nothing worse happens.”

“Right…” Yalun says, before turning to me. “Shall we?”

I nod and change again without delay, awed by my capability. This new connection to fire makes me more confident than ever. With joy smothering the thoughts of the coming difficulty, I race down the mountains, wordlessly challenging Yalun to a race.