106 PF
Continental Empire
Kingdom of Larnach
Southwest of the city of Teorann
Town of Buaic
1100 hours
Ember Erika had a premonition. It was a distant, foreboding sensation that clutched her chest and drowned her lungs, lingering in the back of her mind as a harbinger of something vast and terrible. Erika couldn’t afford to be distracted by this, so she took a deep breath and reached further within – beyond sight or sensation in the conventional sense – until she was beholding the comforting warmth of her own soul and the Spark that orbited it.
This momentary meditation helped soothe her worries and she focused back on the current reality. She was part of an unthinkably risky raid carried out in broad daylight, striking at yet another Arelium transport convoy to satisfy the Firelord’s seemingly insatiable hunger for the crystal. Erika was a healer, a weak and defenceless support unit that stood back as the others did all the work, her only duty being to regenerate the flesh of those who are struck down by the rifles and railguns of the Larnachians.
She could hardly remember how she ended up fighting in a war, the peaceful life of the past seeming like a faraway dream. Could she blame herself for sticking with those akin to her, following the lead of those stronger than her? And whether she had made the right choices or not, could she desire anything more than staying alive? Doubt often plagued her, yet there was nothing she could do except stay in her lane and hold the vain hope that someday all of this might come to an end.
…or was there?
A jolt rang through Erika’s mind – the ambush had begun with an unheard signal. Several Flames dashed out of their hiding places and struck at the heavily armoured vehicles of the convoy, throwing blasts of raw energy and explosive orbs. Erika remained crouched behind a rooftop, watching the glowing silhouettes zip across the air and dreading the moment one of them were to fall. The operation depended on rapid action, every second wasted bringing the executioner’s axe closer to their necks, and yet it dragged on as the sounds of battle intensified.
She heard the Larnachians yell, saw their frighteningly loud weapons leaving trails in the air, any one of those shots capable of tearing her in half. More yells, more shots, far too many for a convoy – Erika began to realize that perhaps the Larnachians weren’t the one being ambushed here. And just when she had that thought, the sky was pierced by a symphony of railgun fire as snipers perched on roofs caught the Sparkwielders in a deadly crossfire.
A Flame was hit by a distant shot, their body falling lifelessly to the ground after a final burst of light. Another fell, and another, and two more before Erika could even begin to react. She felt all their souls fade away, vanishing with no hope of recovery. Waiting for one of her squadmates to start bringing in the wounded, she could do nothing but fidget with the shoulder-length cape of her vibrant green robe.
Her uniform included various Arelium jewellery and a headband with delicately cut Arelium gemstones, but as she felt their synchronous resonance with the energy of her soul, it gave her no comfort. It only made her sharply aware of her surroundings, of how she was right there, so close to death and danger, of how so many were gone in an instant and how many more would likely follow suit.
But suddenly, at the very edge of her vision – movement. Erika only had the time to turn her head before she tumbled backwards with a flash of light and a forceful push. She fell, vision blurry and ears ringing, enveloped by a sensation of weightlessness that was quickly ripped away by a ruthless collision with the ground.
The world came back to Erika in increments. Her hand twitched, small sporadic bursts of healing energy coursing lazily through her bruises. She managed to open her eyes and lift her head, finding herself splayed over the ground of a desolate alleyway. There was phantom frostbite in her chest, and she recognized it as the feeling of getting hit by a Stinger’s round – easily capable of shattering the passive shield of a pitiful Ember like her. The fact that it missed her actual body was barely any consolation.
A dark silhouette entered her blurry vision accompanied by the roar of a rocket pack, floating clumsily before touching down. It came closer, intent on finishing her off. There was little power in Erika’s soul, even less with any destructive potential, so holding her ground against a Stinger would have been impossible even without being incapacitated by the aftershock of a shield break. She would be afraid… if she wasn’t so indescribably exhausted.
But just as she was about to resign to the bliss of fuzzy cotton nothingness, something appeared above her executioner and crushed them into the ground with a sickening crunch and a burst of red. It then approached her and lifted her onto her feet, shaking her by the shoulders and yelling something.
“–ey! Hey! Erika, are you alright? Come on, Erika, we need to fall back!” said Flame Victor, his face materializing in her refocusing vision. His robe was electric yellow and his head bore a diadem adorned by Arelium gems.
“Mmph… V-Victor?..” she mumbled, gradually becoming more capable of perceiving the world around her.
“There you are,” he said, genuine worry momentarily surfacing in his urgent, commanding tone. “I’m glad you’re not wounded, but we have no time to waste. There’s no Arelium, this was an ambush. Follow me and keep to the ground – they’ve got snipers.”
Warmth and clarity returned to Erika as she followed Victor through alleys and streets along with several other Flames and Embers. The Larnachians were on their tail, hellbent on hunting down those who had been raiding Arelium shipments and deposits for many weeks. They had to stop at some point, hunkering down in a little plot of open space surrounded by buildings. Victor began dishing out orders to the remaining Sparkwielders, his leadership expertise on display.
“Ember Oswald, start making a new teleport circle, we might not make it back to the main one. Ember Erika, tend to the wounded. Flames, be ready to fend off the Larnachians when they show up. Shield Embers, protect everyone else from enemy fire.”
As Oswald began feverishly scratching runes into the pavement, Erika went to the wounded – of which there were only two, the rest having been left behind after instantly succumbing to their injuries.
One was Flame Devin, bleeding profusely as his entire shoulder had been torn off by a railgun shot. It was a gruesome view, but Erika was used to far worse. She healed it the best she could, expelling the energy of her soul through her hands and watching the flesh and skin regenerate with its guidance. Lacking a limb to reattach, she couldn’t just immediately grow a new one and had to leave it as a rough stump.
The other was Flame Zacharia, barely hanging onto life with a hefty chunk of her torso missing and spilling guts. It took a lot of healing energy and some impromptu rearranging of innards, but Erika managed to fix that too, focusing her energy through the Arelium crystals she wore to finish the job as quickly as possible.
“Erika, how are they?” asked Flame Victor with his Arelium staff at ready, the large gem lodged in its end sparkling and glowing. Flame Gulliver stood close to him, brandishing his brilliant blue-ish energy swords.
“Stable, but not really combat-capable. I can’t do all that much about the blood loss.”
“That’s good enough. We’ll get them through the circle first. And another matter…”
Despite himself, Victor hesitated. Erika already knew what he wanted to ask.
“No. None of them lingered. All we left behind is corpses.”
It wasn’t much of a relief.
The wounded were teleported back to the base at once, vanishing in the glow of the runes. A two-person transport was all Oswald could do in such a hurry, needing to recharge it for another use, but he was interrupted when explosions suddenly rang out above. Everyone turned their heads to see mortar-propelled smoke shells fill the skies with thick fog that began descending upon the Sparkwielders.
“They’re smoking us!” shouted Victor. “Take defensive formations!”
Erika and Oswald stood side by side behind Ember Coraline in a triplet position as she raised an active shield, Victor and Gulliver doing the same behind Ember Kevin. Two more triplets were formed in the back. The fog reached them soon after, making it impossible for Erika to see any further than an arm’s length. There was much noise and yelling and tension and fear and–
A deafening bang sounded through the battlefield and Coraline suddenly buckled under an immense force. A metal slug was now lodged in her cracking, barely holding shield. The menacing jagged silhouette of a Lancer could be seen through a small clearing in the smoke, but it was then struck by a bolt of lightning from Victor’s staff and dropped with a resounding thud.
More Lancers began firing at them, their shots piercing the fog like deadly spears. Victor and the other Flames fired back with a volley of deadly spells to slow down their inevitable advance, from lightning to explosions to blades of energy. Erika felt so profoundly useless amidst this chaotic skirmish, only capable of observing the battle and hoping the shields hold.
But all of a sudden, she heard screaming from behind. Turning around, she saw the Flames clashing with one– no, two– no, several dark figures, seemingly small and slim, definitely not a Stinger or a Lancer. The smoke ebbed and billowed in this fight, the glow of the shields vanishing as the formation was splintered by this new threat.
Time felt like it slowed to a standstill. Erika saw something like the glint of polished metal, heard a swoosh, a slash, a scream of pain cut short, felt the death of a soul, and then of another. A moment later, Gulliver broke away from the frontline and charged into the rear. There was a blast of energy that almost swept Erika off her feet and banished the fog – she could now clearly see Gulliver fighting with the figures.
They were clad in trenchcoats, their heads obscured by some sort of headgarb, wielding twin swords that clashed with Gulliver’s energy blades. She counted four, all simultaneously duelling their adversary while being barely half his height. Could they be?..
Gulliver was one of the most ferocious and formidable Flame-rank Sparkwielders she knew, and even he showed signs of struggle in this fight. Seconds passed that felt like hours, the little swordsmen almost succeeding in overwhelming Gulliver, but he wasn’t one to give up so easily. Making a circular swing, he pushed three of them away with a tremendous burst of raw power. The last one attempted to exploit this split second of opportunity by leaping high into the air and aiming a stab at him, but Gulliver smacked the soldier’s blades away with one of his own and aimed the other one right at–
Everything froze. Erika gazed in horror at the still picture of the little Larnachian getting skewered through the chest by Gulliver’s searing blade and then kicked away, slamming lifelessly into the nearest wall. They looked so tiny and helpless, so frail, so much like a… like a…
Like a child.
“NO!” shouted Erika, the words leaving her mouth before she could even process them.
She broke into a sprint– nay, a dash, propelling herself forward with every last bit of energy she could muster. In the blink of an eye, she placed herself between Gulliver and the four Larnachians. All the smoke and noise and death and violence brought Erika’s mind to the brink of crumbling – she was barely even aware of her surroundings. This was all that mattered to her now. She could not afford to be afraid anymore.
“Step aside, Ember!” commanded Gulliver with a voice that would’ve made her tremble under any other circumstance. But it was just white noise to her.
She stood there without so much as flinching, her sheer audacity stumping Gulliver for just a few precious seconds. He didn’t hesitate for long, clutching Erika in a telekinetic grip and effortlessly hurling her aside, but the children were already gone.
“You wretched weakling!” he shouted in rage, seemingly contemplating finishing her off right there and then before deciding to turn around and join Victor, who was still almost single-handedly holding the frontline.
Erika managed to lift herself up, dazed and disoriented, and somehow stumbled onto a trail of blood leading away from the wall. A sense of urgency filled her mind, returning her to clarity by pushing away every other thought and feeling. She followed the trail around a corner and through an alleyway, away from the battlefield and its mixture of overwhelming stimuli, arriving at the front entrance of an entirely ordinary house. The door was ajar, the lock forced open. She stepped inside.
The first thing she saw was one of the Larnachians – a little girl – sitting limply on the living room floor with a large bleeding wound on her chest. The headgarb, a sort of tall collar, had been tossed aside, revealing a pale face framed by cherry red hair. She was breathing raggedly and coughing up blood, her eyes dim and cloudy, staring at nothing in particular.
Another child was kneeling down, holding her from behind, whispering words of reassurance with an unsure tone. Her collar was gone too, revealing brunette hair and vibrant green eyes that were so much like Erika’s. The two other children were boys, one with black hair and one blond, both standing straight and aiming their swords at the intruder. They were all just kids.
The wound was clearly lethal, and without proper treatment the girl would soon bleed out and die. Erika’s mind was full of questions, but there was not a single doubt as to what she had to do.
“I… I can help. Please, let me help. S-she’s bleeding. I can heal her.”
The three children stared at Erika with wordless distrust. She knew full well that they had no reason to believe– wait, had they? Suddenly, they seemed to recognize her as the one who, if only for a moment, selflessly shielded them from danger. Confusion appeared on their faces. How could she ever expect for them to be able to process this?
But Erika didn’t want to waste any precious time. She took a cautious step, her hands raised in a purely symbolic gesture of surrender. The boys flinched. The blond one looked at her with a heart-wrenchingly conflicted expression, stood still for a second, and then slowly lowered his weapon. The black-haired one repeated the action with a slight delay. The Sparkwielder was allowed to approach.
Erika took a few more steps into the dimly-lit living room, kneeling in front of the wounded child. She was barely even conscious, not aware of the people right next to her, reaching out to thin air with a shaky hand and mumbling something in a desperate tone. The only word Erika could make out was ‘dad’.
Erika hovered her hands above the wound, expelling as much healing energy as she possibly could. The process rarely required much guidance, as the recipient's body was capable of regenerating on its own, but Erika didn’t want to leave anything to chance. She concentrated to the fullest, synchronising her movements with the resonance of the Arelium gems, manually mending several different types of tissue and stimulating the bone marrow to start producing blood at a faster rate.
She was so focused on the process that she didn’t notice the black-haired child extracting something small out of his trenchcoat and attaching it to the underside of her cape.
As the wound shrunk, the collective gaze of the children watching her work gradually changed from reluctance to fascination. The injury was soon gone completely, and the girl’s eyes refocused. She studied the face of the Sparkwielder in front of her, confused yet comforted by the feeling of connection between the two of them. Her hand, the one that masterfully wielded a deadly blade just minutes ago, fell into Erika’s.
“...t-thank you,” she uttered after wiping the blood off her mouth.
For just a moment, the whole world ceased to matter – except for this room, these four children, and the warmth of the little girl’s hand. But then there was another jolt in Erika’s mind. She couldn’t remain.
“You’re welcome,” the healer replied, and reluctantly pulled away. The war was waiting for her.
Erika rushed out of the house, back through the path she had followed before, returning to the site of the holdout to see one person still standing amidst the clearing smoke – Flame Victor. Everyone else was either dead or gone, Flame Gulliver among the former. Erika wasn’t sure how that made her feel.
Victor was hovering in the air, orbited by chunks of pavement and concrete, swinging his staff in vast, measured motions to create a chaotic storm of energy bolts. He was halting the Larnachian advance by himself, blocking their shots with one of his satellites each time they fired at him. When one particular Lancer got too close, he hurled a boulder in their direction at a speed that could shatter concrete. It missed them by the smallest margin, their hulking form yanked backwards by the dash module of their exoskeleton.
As Erika observed this sight in a momentary stupor, Victor turned his head ever so slightly and gave her a withering side glance, making her experience the same jolt yet again. She immediately snapped out of it and dashed to the teleport circle, its rings and runes buzzing with potent energy waiting to be released. Reaching out to them, ready to pull the proverbial string and activate the spell, she called out to Victor.
He made one last swing, releasing a powerful blast to buy just a few more seconds of time, and practically launched himself towards her. As soon as they were both in the circle’s area of effect, she pulled as hard as she could. There was a burst of energy, a flash of light, and then they were gone. The last thing that went through Erika’s mind was the harrowing realization that her premonition still remained.
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Dust settled on the battlefield, the frightened townspeople of Buaic glancing cautiously out of the windows of their homes. The soldiers were busy tallying the dead and tending to the wounded, urging some of the more panicked citizens to remain calm and stay indoors. At the centre of it all was the famed Director-General McCarter, surveying the aftermath in person.
The operation was a success, wiping out a good chunk of Sparkwielder raiding force with minimal casualties, but Austin wasn’t quite as content as he thought he should’ve been. ‘Minimal’ was the word that gnawed at his mind each time he saw the lifeless body of a comrade – another name for the list, another statistic for the tally. So many good people lost, and for what end? When would this bloodshed cease?
Casting away the thoughts that he had pondered many times before, McCarter examined the runes scratched into the pavement. He quickly recognized it as a roughly made teleportation circle. There was no known way to trace its destination, so it wouldn’t be of much use. The Sparkwielders likely had a much larger one somewhere farther away, but were forced to make a new one in their hasty retreat.
There was a more pressing concern on Austin’s mind, though, as his wards were still nowhere to be seen. He was starting to become quite worried, but just as he was about to call them by radio, he heard that distinct pitter-patter of tiny steps as they appeared from behind a street corner and rushed up to him, their collars resting in their hands. He was immensely glad to see them, and yet his happiness was overtaken by horror when he noticed what seemed to be a bleeding injury on Rose’s chest.
“Rose?!” he exclaimed as he kneeled down on the ground to examine the wound further. “Are you wounded?”
“N-no, I’m fine…” replied Rose, avoiding his gaze.
He could see a wide gash in the trenchcoat, revealing bare skin, but was surprised to discover no actual injury. She was covered in blood, most of it forming a trail down from the site. How could it be that she was unharmed?
“It’s… uhm… i-it’s not my blood,” she affirmed, sounding noticeably anxious.
Even as he saw no reason for her to lie about this, McCarter couldn’t help but feel that something was off.
“Are you sure? This seems like–”
“Austin!”
He was distracted from this line of thought by Navy calling his name in a tone so firm and urgent he couldn’t possibly ignore it.
“Track my transmitter. Do it now.”
“What? Why?”
“I stuck it to one of them.”
The question of how he had managed to achieve such a feat was quickly outweighed in McCarter’s mind by the invaluable opportunity that this action had brought. Distracted from Rose’s conundrum, he immediately yelled for a technician. Moments later, a scrawny-looking young man was brought before him at once – one of the go-to specialists in a military unit for any technological matters.
“Track the radio signal designated ‘Navy’,” he ordered. “Where was it? Where is it now?”
The technician opened the sturdy laptop he carried along with him at all times, typing away for a few seconds before looking back up at the General.
“Currently a few hundred kilometres west. Location history shows… it was right here just a few minutes ago, then it vanished, and then reappeared at the new location. Let me cross-reference it with a map… Ah. It points right to an old stone quarry. Abandoned, pre-Empire.”
“So that’s where they’re hiding. Good work.”
McCarter knew he had to act without delay, pulling out his radio and speaking into it with the kind of commanding tone that was customary to him. This could be enormous.
“Director-General McCarter speaking to all units of Operation Honey Trap. You are hereby reassigned as Expeditionary Force One for a mission of critical priority. Gather at the town square immediately. Be ready for long-distance travel.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
McCarter delegated the bulk of the work to several officers, who worked in impeccable coordination to rapidly and efficiently reorganize the force. Yet again, the Larnachian military operated as smoothly as a well-oiled machine. In a matter of minutes, the town square was swarmed by a fleet of fully loaded helicopters. Their pilots received the coordinates, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.
Austin boarded one of the helicopters along with the children, fighting off the irrational desire to keep them away from combat. They had their duty, just as he had his. He gave the order for departure, and the newly designated Expeditionary Force One headed into uncharted Sparkwielder territory, soon to arrive at what could be a meagre hideout or the nexus of all their operations.
Rose was sitting right next to Austin, that mysterious gash still on her chest. He couldn’t help but feel concerned for her, and an instinctive urge suddenly sprang up within him. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer in a sort of protective half-hug. She gazed up at him wordlessly, and then smiled. His heart went up in flames.
One does not realize how lonely they have been until they no longer are.
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In the grand underground hall, where the quietest sound would resonate as a loud echo, there was silence. Carved out of the earth, supported by looming columns, lit by magical torchlight, it was a testament to the power and authority of the Firelord, who sat triumphantly upon his throne, the architect of a war he deemed to have already won. He was surrounded by an honour guard of two Pyres and by the privileged few of his court – scribes, artificers, diviners – as he observed those that knelt before him.
Flame Victor was in front, delivering the unfortunate news of the failed raid. Ember Erika was there along with the rest of its survivors. She braced for the worst, but her worries were assuaged by the Firelord’s uncharacteristically merciful dismissal.
“Your failure is of little concern,” he declared with a booming voice, his robed figure enhanced by a tall, decorated crown and a large Arelium staff that seemed to shift the very air of the room with every slight motion. “The day of ascendance draws near. There is already enough Arelium to– wait…”
He was suddenly thrown off, his tone becoming noticeably less regal. He cast out his free hand, and Erika could feel her entire body being seized by an inescapable force of gargantuan proportions. She was yanked roughly into the air, something small suddenly appearing from under her cape. It glided towards the Firelord, who examined it with an increasingly furious expression before crushing it.
“You pathetic, useless, miserable SLUG, how in the name of Arelia did you get a tracker stuck to you?! The accursed Larnachians will have an army here in a matter of hours! You jeopardized the safety of everyone!”
He clenched his hand, and the force constricted Erika’s chest until she couldn’t breathe, until her ribs cracked and shattered, until she could feel blood dripping out of her mouth, until she thought she was going to die. She looked at the Firelord through fog and tears, and she realized… that she wasn’t afraid. In that moment, she finally saw him not as what he wanted to be seen as – a godly, majestic leader – but as what he truly was – a vicious, megalomaniacal tyrant.
She was crying, but all she wanted to do was laugh.
Just before she could be crushed completely, he finally released her. Erika’s body plummeted to the carpeted floor, lying there like a crumpled rag. Nobody helped her.
“Ah, no matter. Heal thyself, if that’s all you’re good for.”
The Firelord then nonchalantly turned toward his court, conversing with the diviners.
“You say you have found the source?” he queried, returning to his infallible voice.
“Yes, my liege,” replied one of them, showing him a purplish crescent-shaped pendant, slightly burned and chipped. “We have traced its pull at last – it points to the City of Larnach. All preparations are complete. If need be, we can begin now.”
“Then it is decided,” he said, standing up and striking his staff against the floor with a resonant thud. “We move today! All ye, follow me!”
As everyone else cleared out of the hall, Erika was left alone. Her soul instinctively exuded healing energy to prevent death – snapping her bones into place, mending her lungs, soothing her pain. But even as the injuries vanished, she wasn’t sure if she could stand up again. In this moment of weakness, a part of her mind was content with remaining a tattered stain on the carpet, discarded and left to rot.
But then… there was a jolt. Sudden, painful, yet somehow encouraging. A wordless command, an instruction to move, to fight, to survive. It was the same as all the others, yet it felt like something entirely different. Erika slowly picked herself up and looked around, but the hall was already empty.
“Victor…” she whispered to herself. The sign was clear – this didn’t have to end here.
Erika then cast her gaze to the floor, and noticed the remains of the destroyed tracking device. She pondered it for a moment before remembering the Larnachian children, and that made her smile with the kind of genuine smile that seldom had the chance to grace her face. She couldn’t possibly hold any ill will toward them. She had no regrets.
Limping precariously out of the throne hall, Erika reached the open air of the Quarry. It was an old site abandoned and forgotten by the Larnachians, now housing almost a hundred Sparkwielders in homes carved out of the stone itself, hidden away from patrols and satellites by a constantly maintained illusion spell. The Firelord was in the middle of delivering a speech to a multicoloured mass of people, all wearing the same type of robe and cape – a precious piece of Sparkwielder culture turned into a uniform.
“Follow my lead, follow my word, and we shall all achieve triumph against the Larnachians!” he proclaimed passionately to an exuberant crowd while hovering in the air, an aura of flame surrounding him. “No longer will we be forced to hide! We are above them, and we shall rule over them! The day of ascendance is now!”
Embers, Flames, Pyres, they all shouted praises to their lord, all blindly loyal to him, seeing him as a bright beacon in the darkness of the war. No matter that he was one of those who had started it all six years ago – Wildfire Campbell, given the codename ‘Inferno’ by the Larnachians. He fed them all with vague promises, nothing but the deceptions of a warlord about to take his army into a bloodbath to enact some unknowable ploy.
It all felt so absurd to Erika, so vain and pointless.
“Gather the Arelium, gather every last piece of it, and then we march onto Larnach! We need not return, for when we are done, the City shall be ours!”
Pyres and Flames rushed into the throne hall’s siderooms, extracting the crates of Arelium stored there and bringing them outside in one enormous levitating pile. Soon after, the Sparkwielders all floated up into the air, following the Firelord like a rainbow-hued cloud, dragging the crystals along with them. It was a grand exodus, and Erika… simply stayed behind. She remained on the ground, watching them vanish over the Quarry’s edge. Nobody looked back, nobody returned for her, but she didn’t care.
There was a new resolve in her soul.
Now alone, she returned to the tall corridor that separated the outdoors from the throne hall and examined the invisible seals embedded in its walls. They allowed any Sparkwielder to pass through, but would become a deadly trap to any intruder. The Larnachians would be here soon, the children likely with them, and Erika could not allow them to come to harm.
The first circle easily yielded to the gentle touch of an Ember. She hardly understood the exact purpose of its components, but that wasn’t necessary. With her rudimentary knowledge of the Sparkrune language, she found just the right part to pull at to disable the entire spell. The energy meant to be released all at once in a lethal explosion now harmlessly fizzled away instead. One seal down, dozens more to go.
There was much work to be done.
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Once deployed, the soldiers approached the quarry with swiftness and caution. They surrounded it in a perimeter and began moving in, expecting an ambush at any moment, yet there was not a single living soul to fight with. They had expected many things, but an entirely abandoned Sparkwielder village wasn’t one of them. Multiple squads moved downward along the path, clearing the houses one by one, eyes constantly watching every potential angle of attack. Finally, they descended to the quarry’s bottom, stopping near the enormous tunnel leading to what appeared to be an underground hall.
The final helicopter landed in the midst of this gathering, Director-General McCarter and the Stargazers stepping out along with a few other officers. The General and his squad of little assassins had obtained a notable level of recognition among the military by then, many soldiers looking at them with questions they knew better than to ask. In the Sparkwielder crisis, there were often worse things to be seen than sword-wielding prepubescents.
“Director-General McCarter, sir,” said Sergeant Hoyt, the first to approach McCarter.
“Ah, Sergeant Hoyt. Give me a report.”
“Well, we’ve never seen anything like this before. Clear signs of habitation, and recent ones too – the Sparks seem to have left in a hurry, less than a few hours ago. There must’ve been close to a hundred of them here, and that’s not even counting whatever’s down that tunnel.”
“Any clue of their destination or whereabouts?”
“We’ll have sat coverage on the entire area in about a few minutes, that might tell.”
“Notify me of this immediately.”
“Roger.”
Austin approached the tunnel, gazing at its tall arch and torches with a mix of derision and reluctant fascination. Technicians were crowded around it, setting up scanning devices to detect any ambushes or magical traps. He was unsure of how to proceed, so he allowed the children to take action. They affixed their collars and whispered with each other for a bit before Gold stepped forward.
Rose watched her brother perform his usual scrying routine, able to feel its results herself. First there was the dull resonance of rock, then the empty echo of an open area, and then… a blip, something familiar, something warm and greenish and–
She gasped.
It was the same energy as the one that still lingered in her chest, making her remember the kind woman who had rescued her from the brink of darkness. Without a moment’s hesitation, Rose broke into a full sprint and rushed down the tunnel, determined to find the Sparkwielder she owed her life to. Her mind was clogging up with conflicting thoughts, but all of them led her towards one destination.
McCarter was understandably startled when one of the children suddenly ran into the tunnel, the rest following her almost immediately. In a few seconds of palpable tension, the Stargazers passed through the corridor unharmed and then went out of sight. He had the momentary instinct to come running after them, but forced himself to stay still. Sergeant Hoyt then approached him with an understandably confused expression.
“General, what just happened? Why did they just?..”
“I… I can’t say for sure. But if there were any traps, they would’ve set them off. I want a forward force of four Lancers down this tunnel at once – we’re moving in. I’ll be going too.”
“Roger that, sir,” replied Hoyt, though with a tinge of reluctance.
Meanwhile, Ember Erika was hiding in one of the siderooms, having heard the noise and commotion outside, knowing that the Larnachians would soon scour the Quarry, find her, and kill her without mercy or hesitation. She had already accepted that fact, and yet it didn’t stop the delayed sense of panic that was gripping her bit by bit. She simply sat in a cold, dusty corner and awaited her fate.
But when somebody finally showed up, it wasn’t the exoskeleton-clad reaper that she was expecting. A quartet of small trenchcoat-wearing figures burst into the barren sideroom, one of them walking up to her with raised hands. Erika suddenly sensed a lingering trace of her own magic. She knew exactly who it was.
“Um… h-hi,” said the child with red hair, taking off her collar. There was a slight, tentative smile on her face.
“Oh, hello,” replied Erika as she stood up, almost dazed. “I was… I think I was expecting you.”
“Y-you did?”
“I… I disabled all the traps here. I hope that helped.”
“Oh!.. T-thanks. It did.”
The four children gathered around Erika, removing their collars to reveal such innocent-looking little faces. It was breaking Erika’s heart. She would die for these kids – and, well, she practically already has. For so long, there was nothing in her life that Erika could truly latch onto and hold dear. Who could’ve known that such a treasure would come from the side of the enemy?
Alas, this tender moment was not meant to last. There was more noise, heavy footsteps, and a Lancer appeared in the doorway. Erika braced for a quick and gruesome death, convinced that this was her end, but…
“WAIT!” yelled out a young, feeble voice with a strength it hadn’t seemed to be capable of. “DON’T SHOOT!”
The red-haired girl put herself in the way of the soldier, valiantly shielding the Sparkwielder from harm. Even though she was half her height, even though they were meant to be enemies… she simply couldn’t let Erika die. The other children joined her in this action almost simultaneously. The Lancer stood there, his enormous railgun at ready, confusion and doubt clear on his face. He could just aim a bit higher and eliminate the threat without harming the Stargazers, but something about the look on the little girl’s face made him hesitate.
And that hesitation was enough for several other Lancers and an officer to enter the room as well. McCarter took one glance at the situation, and his expression changed into one of panic.
“HOLD FIRE! ALL OF YOU, HOLD FIRE! What is the meaning of this?!”
Attempting to comprehend this scene, he looked at the children and then at the Sparkwielder. As Austin gazed into the eyes of Erika, and Erika gazed into the eyes of Austin, there was an instantaneous collision of two diametrically opposed worlds.
Erika saw a man who looked aged and weathered yet paradoxically young. There was still life and empathy in his eyes, even if it was surrounded by a look of perpetual tiredness and a few greying hairs. His posture was exceptionally rigid and ever so slightly uneven. She sensed the physical tension within, igniting her instinct of wanting to heal anyone who is hurt or wounded.
Austin saw a young woman with a harrowing mix of fear and acceptance on her face. She looked petite and frail, yet stood with a remarkable sense of determination. Her eyes were so viscerally green that they almost glowed, a vast and vibrant ocean of soul contained within them. For the first time, Austin saw something more than an enemy or a threat – he saw a person.
“S-she… she saved my life!” announced Rose after a few seconds of silence, her voice full of desperation.
And in McCarter’s mind, the puzzle clicked together. The wound, the transmitter, the Sparkwielder…
“Let’s… not make any rash decisions here,” he finally announced with a diplomatic tone. The Lancers gave him rather confused looks, but obeyed the ceasefire. “I am Director-General Austin McCarter of the Larnachian Armed Forces. Identify yourself.”
“I… I’m Erika. Ember Erika Kayleigh. Of… of the Firelord.”
“The Firelord? What does that mean?”
“O-oh, right, you probably know him as Inferno.”
Inferno.
That name pierced Austin’s mind like a scorching metal rod. For just a second, he almost lost himself in the memories of fire and screams and destruction, clenching his fists and gripping his teeth in sheer cold fury. Codename Inferno. One of the four Wildfires that attacked the Royal Palace. One of the four Wildfires that ruined his life.
“Where is he?” he questioned, raising his voice to nearly a yell. “No, where is everyone?!”
Erika flinched, but didn’t falter.
“I was just about to warn you – they all left in one big group. They’re headed for Larnach, the city. They brought a whole mountain of Arelium with them, too.”
“By the gods… Is this an invasion?! Are they trying to destroy the City?!”
“Well, I overheard some things, I’m not sure if it’d make any sense of you, but he always had this… pendant around him. Sort of purple, a bit damaged, shaped like a crescent, and he’s been looking for the ‘source’ or whatever… that… means?..”
Erika went silent as she saw McCarter’s face gradually twist into a look of pure, undistilled horror.
“That… t-that can’t be. I… This is… I-I…”
And just then a technician entered the room as well, showing the General satellite imagery from a laptop – a large number of coloured dots moving across the green landscape, heading in the direction of the City of Larnach. Erika did not lie to him.
The realization that the Sparkwielders were likely going after Princess Elizabeth almost brought Austin to the verge of panic, but he knew he couldn’t afford to falter. He gathered every last bit of his willpower and took several long, deep breaths, purging his mind of all excess.
“I need to give out some orders,” he finally declared. “This Sparkwielder is now under my custody. If any of you harm her, I’ll have you all demoted to potato peelers.”
And then he left, heading to the outdoors in all haste to find the nearest radio technician and bark orders at them. Once McCarter had a microphone in his hands ready to broadcast to the entire Larnachian military, he began speaking.
“This is Director-General Austin McCarter speaking with an emergency announcement. Declaring red alert to all military units. I repeat, red alert to all units.”
His voice echoed in every military base, was heard in every radio, received by every soldier in all of Larnach.
“A hostile Sparkwielder force is currently en route to the City of Larnach. Numbered circa one hundred. Confirmed presence of Wildfire-class Sparkwielder among them, codename Inferno. I repeat, Inferno is en route to the City of Larnach with a force of one hundred Sparkwielders.
“All units head to the City of Larnach immediately. I repeat, all units head to the City of Larnach. Divert and deploy all available assets. Evacuate the City, I repeat, evacuate the City. Prepare for imminent attack. Assigning Colonel Viola Washington to oversee defence of the City. I repeat, Colonel Viola Washington assigned to defend the City.”
He terminated the broadcast and, without wasting a second, dialled a particular frequency on the transmitter himself.
“This is Director-General Austin McCarter speaking to Research Facility ‘Lock and Key’. Ditto to previous announcement. Finalize and deploy all combat-capable projects to the City of Larnach immediately. I repeat, deploy all projects. Requesting Project Anathema, Project Siegebreaker, Project Solaris, Project Hawk, Project Atlas. I repeat, send everything.”
And finally, upon ending that broadcast as well, he pulled out his mobile phone and called a very special contact.
“Meister-General?” he asked, beginning to run out of breath.
“Yes, Director-General McCarter?” replied the voice on the other end, eerily calm.
“I presume you’ve heard my broadcast. In this emergency situation, I see fit to personally notify you of the following. It is likely that the Sparkwielders are going after it.”
The amount of emphasis McCarter had put on ‘it’ left no room for interpretation.
“...oh.”
The voice was now horrified.
“I recommend that you… evacuate at once,” said the General, leaving a notable pause where ‘you’ should’ve been followed by ‘and her’.
“No. There is little point in fleeing. We– I’ll… stay in place.”
“Why would you do that?” queried Austin with a great deal of concern in his voice.
“I intend on providing support and assistance for as long as possible. Nonetheless…”
Pausing, hesitating, the Meister-General let out a long, uncharacteristically raw sigh.
“There is only so much one man can do,” he began, showing a great deal of vulnerability in his tone. “I’m not infallible, nor am I omnipotent. I declared this war, but you, all of you together, are the ones who can put an end to it. This is an extremely important day, Austin. I can feel it. No matter what happens, I put my trust in you to do the right thing.”
The call ended.
McCarter allowed himself a few seconds of recuperation, processing the Meister-General’s words. All the members of Expeditionary Force One gathered around him in the meantime, having heard the broadcast.
“We must depart immediately,” he announced. “We won’t be able to intercept the Sparkwielders before they arrive, but we have to do everything in our power to protect the City.”
Everyone heard him loud and clear, organizing yet another departure. In the meantime, Austin was unexpectedly approached by a group consisting of Ember Erika, the Stargazers, and several very befuddled Lancers. The children were crowded around her as if guarding her, whispering sporadically to her and giving death glares to anyone who so much as looked at her wrong.
“Are you already leaving?” she inquired. “What will you do with me?”
McCarter already knew what he was going to say, but the way in which the kids clung to her made him all the more sure in his decision.
“You’ll be coming with me. As long as you cooperate, you’ll be under my protection.”
Erika then looked between him and the kids several times before suddenly changing the topic.
“Are you the one responsible for these children?” she asked with a hint of derision. Austin quickly realized what she was thinking of him, and shuddered at the very concept of being that kind of person.
“Trust me, I was not the one who made them into what they are. I’m simply their caretaker.”
“Caretaker?” she echoed cynically, as if she was the one who had dedicated herself to protecting the kids.
“Hey, don’t fight!” interrupted Gold in the kind of tone one uses when their parents are bickering with each other. “Austin’s not lying. He treats us well!”
“Please, don’t get the idea that they’re just soldiers to me,” said McCarter. “I… I treasure these children more than anything in my life.”
The kids almost gasped at such a direct declaration. There was a raw sincerity in his voice, something that comes straight from the heart. Erika looked very carefully at the heart-wrenchingly empathetic expression on his face and couldn’t help but believe him. Shaking off the distrust and reluctance, she gave him a cordial nod. In return, he all but beamed at her with a smile that made him look several decades younger.
Perhaps he wasn’t all that bad.
----------------------------------------
Amid the fleet departing from the Quarry, one helicopter was occupied by a General, a Sparkwielder, and four Stargazers. It was almost like the beginning of a bad joke. Austin and Erika were on opposite sides, Rose and Lime sitting on Erika’s side while Navy and Gold sat next to Austin. The two adults stared at each other as the children casually observed the situation.
McCarter was restless, but there was little he could do now – all the preparations were in the hands of other officers and commanders. Upon realizing that there were no more orders for him to bark into a radio, he turned his attention to the people in his immediate vicinity.
“You’re a healer, aren’t you?” began Austin, breaking the silence while trying to approach the conversation in a delicate manner. “Thank you for helping Rose. I owe you for that.”
“Oh. You’re… welcome, I suppose,” replied Erika. Healing was something that came natural to her, and she wasn’t used to being thanked for it either way. She paused for a while, trying to properly formulate her next words. “Would you believe me if I told you that I never wanted any of this? That I just want all this fighting to end?”
“I… I think I would. You don’t seem like most of them, the fanatics.”
“I’m just so… so tired of it all. Maybe you’ll kill me, maybe they’ll kill me, it doesn’t matter to me now. It’s just that… the moment I saw these children, I finally had something worth fighting for. Worth living for. You care about them too, don’t you?”
“I do. And if they trust you, then I think I can trust you too.”
Erika nodded, and Austin looked at her with a budding new sense of kinship. The kids silently celebrated the fact that two of their most favourite people in the world were beginning to get along. Some part of Austin’s mind thought that this entire scenario was utterly absurd, but that notion ultimately held no weight. For an array of inexplicable reasons, he didn’t feel that anything was wrong with talking to a Sparkwielder, a member of the people he had spent six long years fighting against.
“Have they… told you their names?”
“Oh, they’ve told me many things,” she explained with a giggle. “They’re quite talkative, you know.”
“They don’t usually get so attached to other people, though.”
“Well, I certainly got attached to them. Perhaps for the same reasons as you.”
“Hey!” interrupted Gold. “We’re right here, you know.”
Austin and Erika laughed together. The children managed to create a homely atmosphere even in this cold, cramped interior, their purity shining through even in the darkest of circumstances. Their very existence was a precious memento of peace and happiness in a time of strife and war.
The two adults pondered the mind-boggling weight of the situation unfolding around them, but they were stirred out of their thoughts when the children leaned against them in a gesture of trust and affection, closing their weary eyes for a little nap before they’d have to fight again. All the questions and worries suddenly seemed a lot more manageable.
It was going to be a long flight, but they were in good company.
'Tis your bright and tiny spark
Lights the trav'ller in the dark
Tho' I know not what you are
Twinkle, twinkle, little star