by T. C. Edge
"And you beat them both?"
He nods, smiling at the glorious memory. "Took out one and the other just surrendered immediately. I spared him. Then joined up with the Imperial Guard soon after."
"And him?"
"He was offered to become a soldier, or join one of the gladiator schools as a trainer. But...well, he lost it, really. Wasn't much of a fighter without his brother." He frowns. "Not really sure what happened to him after that."
"Would he be sent home?" I wonder.
He shrugs. "Maybe. But...probably unlikely. You're only meant to win your freedom if you, you know, actually win."
"And so you won your freedom, and then went straight into service anyway? Guess you must love killing."
"I love fighting, Brie," he returns lightly. "Fighting for the glory of Neorome."
"Even though it's not your city?" I ask. "Weren't you taken into slavery too, stolen like Kira was?"
He frowns at me. "No, I'm Neoroman, born and bred."
"What?" I recoil, confused. "You weren't a slave?"
"No," he laughs. "I'm from a fairly wealthy family, believe it or not. I just went in for the glory of it. Really helps you get into the Imperial Guard and rise quickly if you're a Champion of Neorome." He frowns, letting out a sigh. "Just a shame it's all over now, with the games being abolished. I mean, I get why, but still..."
He cuts himself short at that, his ears suddenly pricking up as Kira's tend to do when hearing something off in the distance. I guess he must be a Bat as well as a Hawk and Dasher. It wouldn't surprise me, really.
He listens for a second, and then flicks his eyes back to a number of his Neoroman soldiers, grouped together behind him. He nods at a couple of them, giving some sort of non-verbal order, then stands to his feet, working into a crouch, preparing to move off.
I grab him. Using my telepathy, I press a question into his head. I do it without eye contact. I'm getting rather good at that.
Where are you going?! I ask, with some urgency.
He turns back, bringing a sly smile with him.
Three sentries, off that way, he thinks, his thoughts manifested as words in my head. Gonna take them out, nice and silent, so they don't give us away. Won't be a moment.
With that, and with his customary speed, balance, and skill, he flashes off through the trees, dancing over the leaves and bushes, never once making a sound. How he does it remains a mystery to me, what with all those crunchy leaves and snappy twigs about. He's very like Kira in that regard actually.
I watch him disappear, a couple of his men going too. He returns surprisingly quickly, slipping back within a minute or so, wiping blood from his slick dagger and placing it back into his belt.
"Done," he whispers. "Took a close look at the enemy. They're about to get into position of our incendiaries." He grins. "Time to spring the trap."
I find myself almost marvelling at the man's appetite for the fight, his total lack of nerves, and his quite infectious passion. It helps to lighten the growing trepidation within me, having such a character there by my side.
The woods, once more, turn quiet. Ahead, the hum of the enemy continues to grow in clarity, the great engine tearing their way towards us.
How foolish, how overconfident they are, I think, my manner darkening as thoughts of Nestor come once more. Hubris. That's what this is. It is blinding them to what lies beyond.
I feel an intense pleasure at what is to come, at seeing these people sent to the grave. We saw just how it worked for the Cure, when they burned through the western woods, pressing us right back towards the city. Now, we will use the same tactic for ourselves, decimating their advance force, setting a fear deep into their bones.
How many of our own people will suffer if they defeat us? How many will be sacrificed, murdered, how many 'awakened' to appease their own false gods, this so-called Prime who rules over them? Oh, I know for sure just what this person is. An Enhanced, nothing more, and most likely a Mind-Manipulator and telepath. Someone capable of controlling a large population, just as Empress Vesper did in Neorome.
Just like I'm learning to do.
And one day, perhaps, I'd like to meet them...
The tension grows, the moment imminent. I know that it is Hendricks in control of the trigger, the charges set in the perfect places, ready to close them all into a terrible inferno. It will spread, and spread fast, causing disarray. And when it does, we will be ready.
I feel my heart thudding harder as the clock ticks on. The silence among our troop becomes almost overwhelming, not even Marcus making a peep as we crouch low, and watch, the darkness, the suffocating gloom of the trees closing in from all around us.
I sense the time is near. Somehow, I can feel it, almost feel Commander Hendricks, off through the woods on the other side of the enemy, preparing to push the trigger. I shut my eyes, almost able to see him there, crouching as we are, awaiting the right moment. His thumb begins to press, the switch about to click. And then, with a little more pressure, I watch, in my mind, as the trigger is set.
I rip my eyes open as the sound of a great explosion fills my ears. Ahead, rising up through the trees, a huge orange cloud of death begins to bloom. It spreads quickly, gobbling up all it can see, the darkened woods suddenly growing bright as the incendiaries go off as one.
A ripple of awe spreads through the grouping of soldiers behind me. All dressed with our fire-resistant armour, I wonder if it will be enough. The roaring blaze ahead is joined by screaming. The clamour of confusion and terror spreads along with it as it charges our way, the firestorm overcoming everything in its path.
I notice, to my side, Marcus react, calling for two of his men to come forward. They speed ahead of our group, as Marcus calls for the rest to huddle tight.
"Close in!" he calls. "Get low. And hold the hell onto something!"
He grabs me, pulling me to his side, our bodies bunched together as the two Neoromans move ahead. Our fire-proof armour is effective, but we know it has its limits. It continues to roar, the cloud of orange and red joined by the black fumes of smoke, charging towards us at a tremendous pace. I see the two soldiers prepare themselves, their focus narrowing as they press their hands outwards in the direction of the oncoming flames.
"OK, get ready!" calls Marcus, assuming some measure of leadership here. He's got more experience than I do. Really, this is his unit, not mine.
I can hear the tension in his voice as he shouts, but also the pleasure. The excitement as the fire comes our way.
Looking forward, I see the ground beginning to tremble in front of the two soldiers before us. Bits of debris and forest detritus begin to lift from the ground as they centre their powers, their ability to control the elements. Their specialisation is wind, the ability to control the airflow around us. We have little experience of such Elementals here. New Haven has no such soldiers of its own.
The fire continues, speeding closer. I hear Marcus call for everyone to duck, close in, tuck in their hands and faces, the latter exposed should the flames get through. I glance back and see everyone rolling up like armadillos, all exposed areas hidden behind their armour. Hopefully it won't be needed.
I turn ahead again and see the two Wind Elementals now beginning to gently rotate their wrists, stirring up the air, getting it moving before the fire hits. Another moment, only, and it'll be here.
I brace, but can't help but keep watching, my eyes turned up as the flood of fire advances. The reaction of the Elementals comes at the final moment, directing their flow of energy through their hands, pressing a great and sudden wind in the direction of the flames.
Standing side by side, they hold back the blaze as it hits, the fires coming to a stop before. Then, suddenly, they sweep their arms outwards in opposite directions, forcing the inferno to divert around us. I watch in awe as the flames move around to the side, before continuing off on its way, feasting upon the forest to the sides and behind us.
Only in this channel, protected by the dive
rting winds, are we untouched by the licking flames, our armour doing enough to help combat the otherwise intolerable heat. With a roar of such intensity, it forces me to press my hands to my ears, I shut my eyes again, waiting for the flames to pass.
One, two, three, I count, hidden in darkness behind my closed lids. And on impulse, I find myself testing another of my new powers, another I've been working on. There, as I hold my eyes tightly shut, I find my way into the mind, the eyes, of one of the two Elementals, watching the fires come from his viewpoint. I smile in glee as I make the connection, almost feel the man's strength and power flowing through him.
And then, slowly but surely, the fires begin to subdue, the wave passing behind us like a tidal wave reaching land, rushing past and leaving only carnage in its wake. So it is here, as I creak my own eyes back open, and set them upon the world.
The woods ahead are no longer what they were. The tangled, twisted mass of trees has gone, much of what was there before now melted and burned away, so ferocious was the firestorm that continues its march behind us.
Everywhere, the fires still rage, but in pockets only, presenting paths and routes between the still-burning flames and clumps of trees. And everywhere, rising up from the earth, come the heavy fumes of smoke, the ash rising and collecting above and around us, limiting our vision, limiting our senses.
But not our ears.
No, those work just fine here, taking in the screaming sounds of pain and panic that spread across the forest ahead.
And, moments later, they are joined by gunfire.
10
Brie
The battle is a rush, frenetic and violent, the work of the incendiaries and following flood of flame doing exactly as we'd hoped. Along with my group, we rush immediately in, directed by our finest Bats and trackers, hunting down the enemy as they try to battle the flames and regroup, their forces scattered and sent into disarray.
We first catch a smaller group of what appears to be lookouts and sentries, and cut them down quickly, completely overwhelming them as we rush right through. Our trackers immediately begin picking up other signals, directing us elsewhere, the two Wind Elementals helping to clear the air as we go. We find another group of a dozen or so, several suffering serious burns, others rushing around in a wild panic trying to put out the flames still eating at the flesh of their comrades.
We hurry in with our weapons primed, immediately cutting them down. We take down several before the others are able to realise what's happened. I see that a couple of them are mighty Brutes, tasked with uprooting trees. They haul huge guns from their backs and begin firing back as we advance. Several of the others show themselves to be telekinetics, probably Forgers, managing to lift debris into the path of our bullets to help halt our assault.
It's a delay only. With a flash, I watch Marcus hurry around to flank them, his Neoroman soldiers naturally following as he goes. They work with such a sense of freedom and joy, zipping off in pursuit, leaving the rest of us to cut down the Brutes with an intense volley of gunfire from our pulse rifles, lighting the world up red and blue to join the fiery orange hues now illuminating the skies, mingling with the thick grey smoke, puffed up from the ground.
A minute later, as we overcome the Brutes, our pulse rounds burning through their armour, Marcus comes swishing back around with his soldiers in his slipstream, grinning as he does.
"Invigorating, isn't it!" he says. "We've got smaller groups everywhere. Plenty of fun to be had. Shall we?"
His eyes fall upon me and the New Haven City Guards and Nameless soldiers. They all stand, completely bemused by Marcus's complete ease, his enthusiasm for the fight. War here has been about survival, a veritable struggle between life and death.
Not for him. No, he's been doing this for fun. It's seems to be nothing more than a hobby, a joyous escape, for the man.
"Well, come on then," he says eagerly. "Think I spotted Commander Ares off that way." He glances off to another part of the woods. "He'll have that section covered. This way's best. Come on."
He turns his attention in another direction, and begins moving off, gesturing for us all to follow him. He's a natural leader, I'll give him that. He doesn't inspire through fear, pride, deep admiration and respect. No, his modus operandi is to get people following him by pure joy, the glory of the fight. He very much leads by example.
And sets a damn good one.
I look in the direction he mentioned, feeling the thunderous aura of Ares off that way. A staggering thing that it's hard to put a finger on. At first, I though it was just me, something I could do because of my gifts, some ability to sense people's power levels the same way that Emperor Domitian can. That may be the case, but in truth, others say it too. Even Unenhanced with no powers at all seem to be able to feel this throbbing, profound aura that accompanies his presence.
I begin following again, moving after Marcus, still looking off in the other direction. There's something...odd about it. It feels like Ares's aura, staggering and unfathomable but...different. It's hard to explain it really...
"Brie! You coming or what?"
Marcus's voice snatches me back into action, my Dasher speed pressing me right on after him. We move as a unit, our group of twenty five spaced out, hunting down the enemy like dogs. Rarely do we find them in high concentrations as we zip about, each and every one of us a gifted Dasher, each with sufficient endurance to be able to fight effectively, even after the rush it took to get here.
More enemy soldiers fall under our gaze, more of them sent to the grave. Some, I notice, have already been killed as we move through, unable to withstand the blaze, or already having been set upon by another one of our hunting squads. In certain places, the fighting seems stronger, the enemy managing to group together. With a quick discussion, Marcus and I decide to join in, ending the hunt for stragglers as their signatures begin to decrease.
We rush for the main fighting, the woodlands ahead glowing with a range of colours, visible within the swirling smoke. Enough cover remains for a full firefight to be in effect. Sections of larger, more durable trees, still stand tall, providing protection for the enemy as they try to fight us off. I see the frenzied, wildly aggressive form of Colonel Hatcher rushing through, moving between enemy fire and cutting down several soldiers with his knives. His men follow, breaking the lines of the enemy, causing further havoc as our troop moves in to join them.
Light suddenly blooms ahead. Not the lights of the fires still burning, or the reds and blues of our pulse rounds as they fly through the air, but something different. A great mass of flaming orange and golden light, spreading through the trees as one. I peer ahead with my Hawk eyes and see them now; distinct figures, soldiers wreathed in flame, seeming to boost themselves onwards with bursts of fire as they go.
They move in formation, a specialist group of Fire Elementals, a sort I've seen so little of. And never, ever like this, never draped in flames, their flowing combat robes, coloured in deep maroon, radiating with an almost unnaturally bright light.
It's quite a sight really, as they move right through the fire before them, unaffected by the flame. If anything, it invigorates them, feeding them as their flames grow brighter, and the fires themselves weaken and disappear, leaving behind only the burning embers upon the ground.
Marcus, too, sees them, as they combine with their fellow soldiers, entering into the fight. And others come too, shapes of Dashers rushing through the forest, speeding around burning trees and leaping over stumps and bodies lying stricken on the ground.
The young Neoroman captain nods to me, and we move in as one, entering into a more even battle as we duck and displace, firing from cover and working in smaller units across this new battleground. I work as one of the soldiers, my most potent power held at bay. So far, I've wondered what my limits are, wished to test them in a tense situation like this.
Oh, I've done so a little bit in recent months, hunting raiding parties outside of our borders, but none were ever real threats
. This is different. This is war. This is an army the likes of which we haven't seen before.
Time to see what I can do.
The thought is galvanising, my heart pumping harder as I continue to move alongside my outfit. We reach a concentration of enemy soldiers across the glade, some of those Fire Elementals seemingly among them. They fire at us, not only with guns, but with their hands too, sending spouts of flame in our direction.
"Watch out," I call, trying to lift my voice above the din. "Watch out for the flames!"
Some hear me, only those close enough for my screeching voice to overcome the clamour. Most don't, their attentions elsewhere as the flames come, rushing right into them.
I watch, panicking, as a flood of fire, taking on a swirling, molten, liquid shape, heads right for several of our soldiers, turned the other way, firing at a few enemies coming from the distance.
And one of them is Marcus.
My body clenches, my reaction coming as instinct. Staring right at them, I call out once again, though this time I don't use my voice.
Instead, I bellow the words through my mind, sending them into the heads of all the soldiers ahead of me.
Duck! I shout. Get down!
This time, they do hear me. This time, they have no choice, my voice bellowing loud in their minds.
The reaction is almost immediate, each soldier dropping down low as the flood of flame rushes past them. The heat, burning and sizzling through the air, forces them to slip away as quickly as possible. Marcus comes my way, followed by several others. Only one chooses the wrong path, rushing out from the fire, moving into the open where he's immediately shot down.
I see Marcus tense as he sees it, preparing to rush in to help.
I grab him, but he's strong. "It's no use," I call. "He's already dead!"
He doesn't listen.
He escapes my grasp, moving off. I shut my eyes and call an order into his mind. What once required eye contact I can now do without.