Young Flame

Leal chokes out something halfway between a squeak and a gasp as she flails in my grasp. She never expected me to turn the tables on her like this. An array of markings light up along her body, and for a moment I flinch back, thinking that I’m about to be hit by her water. But it doesn’t come. Instead, a strong gust blows Leal out of my arms and twirls through the room. Something shatters in the next room over.

Those inscriptions aren’t the same colour they used to be. Once, they appeared as if small currents of water flowing along her skin, yet glowing. Now, while similarly transparent, the energy is clearer. It’s closer to distorted air than the fluid of water hyle.

It takes little more than a moment to recognise the energy as the hyle of air or pressure mages. I’ve seen plenty of them in my life, but never on Leal. Has she switched away from water markings? Can she even do that?

As Leal regains her feet a few metres from me, I allow myself to take my default form. While she stares wide eyed at me, markings along the sides of her head light up and form a ripple of condensed air before her, leaving her eye looking larger than normal. It’s similar enough to that analysis marking she has used in the past, but it clearly isn’t water hyle. Why would she go through the effort of learning a completely alternate design that does the same thing?

“What in… Solvei? Is that really you?” she asks as her gaze flickers all across my body.

I incline my head, unsure why she’s questioning my identity. She seemed pretty confidant it was me when she ran in from the balcony.

“Your… it’s your hyle. You have no signature. I can’t feel any life in those flames. Do- do you still have your conscious?” a smirk spreads across my face, but I don’t have time to reply before she continues. “No. Of course you do.” She closes the distance again, looking me every which way. “This is incredible. You are indistinguishable from normal fire in all aspects — well, besides the obvious. You leave none of the trails that all life does. It’s like your will no longer guides your flames, but is indistinguishable from them.”

It’s incredible that she can tell I’ve changed simply by looking at me, but then again, she did warn me about losing my sense of self all that time ago. Good thing Leal was wrong about that.

“What about you?” I ask. “You’re a wind mage now? How’d that happen?”

“Huh?” Leal’s face scrunches in confusion. “I’ve always been… wait, no, that’s right.” Leal groans as she tilts her head back to stare at the ceiling. “It’s still messing with my head?”

Immediately, she pulls out a notepad and peels off cloth bindings from her shoulders to inspect the marking around a mass of constantly changing light. It looks similar to hyle, but not a type I’ve ever seen.

I turn to Gerben, who gives me a defeated shrug that tells me this is a common sight even for him. Poor guy; it must be hard living with her when she gets so caught up in her markings.

“Leal, leave that for later,” he says.

She looks up from her book, only to realise I’m still here. “Oh, right. Sorry. Uh, so I got a hold of some curious energy that essentially lets me alter my expertise. I can take my experience with pressure markings and transition it to water, earth, or even fire. Or, well, from water. Unfortunately, right now the marking has the small problem that all my memories regarding that element change alongside it.”

I don’t know how to respond to that. She’s got a marking that alters her mind and memories? My concern is evident for the young ursu.

“Don’t worry, it’s a lot better than it used to be. I’ve refined the marking to affect my memories less.”

She doesn’t seriously think that makes things better, does she? That just makes me more worried. What if something core to my friend’s personality has changed and she doesn’t even know it? But it isn’t even the change to her mind that is most distressing; it’s the origin. A strange energy that changes both body and mind? What else have I come across that does that?

“Plus,” Leal continues. “I just need to stare up at the moon to wipe clean the changes.” As if to prove her words, she steps back out onto the balcony and gazes over the Titan Alps, where the ever-red glowing Ember Moon hangs. The slight rift below is now visible here, where once it could only be seen from the other side of the Alps.

As she said, her markings shift colour. They return to the aquatic glow, while the shape twists along her skin and fur. It’s a rather disturbing sight. Tattoos move over her body like living worms coiling in on themselves. As strange a sight as it is, the effect of the Ember Moon is intriguing. It’s the first time Ember’s protection has shown itself before my eyes in such an obvious way.

But what is Ember protecting Leal from?

I already know the answer, but I truly hope Leal didn’t mess around with that sort of energy.

“Leal, that isn’t energy from an Anatla, is it?” I ask.

The ursu, for all it’s worth, has the decency to look ashamed.

“Leal! You were with us. You know how dangerous those beings are. What were you thinking?”

She says nothing, only shrinking under my glare.

“That’s just it, she wasn’t thinking,” Gerben says, joining me in staring down Leal, who only bows her head further. “But I’ve already lectured her enough.” Gerben breaks off his stare and walks back toward the stairs. “I’ve got some work to do, so I’ll be back later to check in. You two get along.”

I wave him off, but don’t break my glare. Gerben might have already reprimanded Leal, but that doesn’t mean I’m done.

The ursu simply wilts, knowing what’s coming.

❖❖❖

After I told Leal off, we traded tales of the past year. She may have glared at me when I told her of taking on the Island and Anatla, but I ignored her and pushed on. Thankfully, she left my hypocrisy with a shake of the head and that was that. Leal was particularly interested in my surpassing of my binding threshold and the events that played out with Charybdis.

Her point of view of that day was… well, quite different from mine. Somehow, she hadn’t even noticed the collapse of the Titan Alps until long after they’d settled. What is most interesting is the beam of flickering light that came from the southern ocean. Considering the energy in her shoulders came from then, we have little doubt that whatever caused that beam was an Anatla.

This Anatla in the southern ocean had essentially torn its way into our world after a shatter — a shatter that may very well be from the green storm’s attack — but was thankfully pushed back by the Ember Moon. At least, that’s how I’m reading it. It is relieving to know Ember holds back the Anatla, but the very fact that she has to remain burning at all times now isn’t comforting. The Anatla now wait for the moment she wavers before shattering the barrier to our world.

I want to find the source of this beam.

Even if it’ll mean I have to travel over an ocean again, this is the first proper lead I have. What was the origin of this beam? If stationary, then that is already better than the Void Fog or the already eaten chthonic island. I’d considered trying to search the strange architecture within the Void Fog, but trying to find the Fog would be an impossible task. Maybe this new Anatla will give some insight, even if it’s already been dealt with.

Unfortunately, I’ll have to wait until my elders and Tore have decent enough communication going before I run off and do my own thing. I expect these talks to last a few weeks at the very least, considering how many details need to be agreed upon. While I trust Tore, and I’m sure he does me, these are matters of international politics. I know he can’t just accept all our requests without pushing back.

“If I was to go looking for the origin of that Anatla, will you come with me?”

Leal raises an amused eyebrow. “Didn’t you just chide me for doing just that?”

“No, we aren’t going to mess with the being,” I deny. “I just want to see if there’s anything around it that might give us information about Armageddon. You felt the Anatla. You’ve seen the Titan Alps; the world is tearing itself apart around us and nobody knows why.”

“Alright,” Leal says. “But you’ll need to give me a few days to prepare.”

“Of course. I still need to make sure my elders don’t mess up as envoys.”

Leal laughs and I return a strained smile. If only I were joking. I have no bases to think they’ll fail, but still, I can’t help but feel like something will go wrong.

❖❖❖

A week later, everything is great. In fact, things have gone so well that I’ve become suspicious.

Our envoy was welcomed with a few days touring the ursu’s culture and during that time, they enjoyed themselves more than I expected. I have nothing but praise for Gerben and the other ursu that organised their national showcase.

But now we’ve completed the first day of talks, I can’t restrain my growing nerves. Things never go this well. It was a surprise to see that not only did our initial diplomatic back and forth not incite any form of friction between our two factions, but somehow it almost seemed friendly.

Kiko and Tore, without my notice, have even kicked it off. The old áed somehow managing to encourage more than the odd grunt from the giant ursu. I even heard the Tsar laugh; it shook the room and sent everyone into silence, but he laughed.

Things never go this perfectly. Not at first.

And so, while everyone is getting into the flow of these talks and my involvement becomes less required, my stress only grows.

A chime sounds through my penthouse and I look over to see the doorbell inscription lit. I cease my pacing and touch the glowing lines powered by fire hyle.

As soon as I connect with the energy flowing through the building, Leal’s thermal presence enters my sight. She stands in the foyer, pulling her hand away from the interface that calls my room.

Dissolving my body, I flow through the inscription. In moments, I’m reforming on the bottom floor besides Leal.

It’s an odd feeling, spreading through an inscription like this, but so much faster than climbing the stairs or jumping off the balcony. I don’t even need to make my flames ethereal to travel through the lines etched in the walls; the hyle state is enough. So really, if Yalun makes it past the threshold, she could pass through inscriptions too.

When I think back to the time I was stuck in Henosis’ weapon, I can only lament that I didn’t have this ability back then. I could simply pass through their energy circuits and be out of their hands in seconds. But then again, just the basic additional binding of the Void Fog would have been enough to escape their cages before I ever found myself in that bomb.

I don’t miss the fact that I’ve only grown to be more difficult to trap. Between my ethereal flame and passing the binding threshold, nothing less than an Anatla could keep me still.

Unfortunately, those Anatla are our biggest problem.

“Is there something wrong?” Leal asks, not surprised to see me appear the way I had. It is my favourite way to travel now. If only everything was covered in fire inscriptions I could use to essentially teleport.

“No,” I say. “I’m just not used to everything going so well. I feel like the moment I look away, a Titan will crash down in the middle of the talks.”

Leal ponders for a moment before she declares, “Alright, we’re leaving tomorrow morning. Make sure you have everything ready by sun-up.”

“What?” I sputter. “But I need to make sure everything goes well here before I can leave.”

“Weren’t you the one that was determined to search for answers?”

“Yes, but-”

“Isn’t everything going well with the delegation?” Leal interrupts.

“Yeah-”

“Then is this not the best time to leave? Your elders and our officials will take time to complete their talks, but it won’t be forever. The longer we take to leave, the less time we’ll have to search.”

“But I can’t help but feel that something will go horribly wrong the moment I leave.” I finally get in.

“If something goes wrong, then trust our leadership to deal with it. That’s what they’re there for, right? If our nations can’t hash out their issues without you there to nanny them, then it never would have worked, would it?”

I can’t argue with that. Things are already starting far better than I thought, and I’d originally planned to leave after doing the bare minimum to make sure they’d get along. I’ve already done my job here.

“Okay,” I say.

Tomorrow, we search for an Anatla.